The hair at the back of
her head seemed to stand erect--yet she was unafraid. The muscles
bequeathed her by some primordial ancestor reacted instinctively
to the presence of an ancient enemy--that was all. The woman moved
slowly and deliberately toward the wood. Again the lion moaned;
this time nearer. She sought a low-hanging branch and finding it
swung easily into the friendly shelter of the tree. The long and
perilous journey with Obergatz had trained her muscles and her
nerves to such unaccustomed habits. She found a safe resting place
such as Tarzan had taught her was best and there she curled herself,
thirty feet above the ground, for a night's rest. She was cold
and uncomfortable and yet she slept, for her heart was warm with
renewed hope and her tired brain had found temporary surcease from
worry.
She slept until the heat of the sun, high in the heavens, awakened
her. She was rested and now her body was well as her heart was warm.
A sensation of ease and comfort and happiness pervaded her being.
She rose upon her gently swaying couch and stretched luxuriously,
her naked limbs and lithe body mottled by the sunlight filtering
through the foliage above combined with the lazy gesture to impart
to her appearance something of the leopard. With careful eye she
scrutinized the ground below and with attentive ear she listened for
any warning sound that might suggest the near presence of enemies,
either man or beast.
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