" Freely translated it might
read, "He who follows the right trail sometimes reaches the wrong
destination," and such apparently was the fate that lay in the
footsteps of the great chieftain of the north and his godlike ally.
Tarzan, more familiar with the windings of the corridors than his
fellows and having the advantage of the full light of the torch,
which at best was but a dim and flickering affair, was some distance
ahead of the others, and in his keen anxiety to close with the
enemy he gave too little thought to those who were to support him.
Nor is this strange, since from childhood the ape-man had been
accustomed to fight the battles of life single-handed so that it
had become habitual for him to depend solely upon his own cunning
and prowess.
And so it was that he came into the upper corridor from which opened
the chambers of Lu-don and the lesser priests far in advance of his
warriors, and as he turned into this corridor with its dim cressets
flickering somberly, he saw another enter it from a corridor before
him--a warrior half carrying, half dragging the figure of a woman.
Instantly Tarzan recognized the gagged and fettered captive whom
he had thought safe in the palace of Ja-don at Ja-lur.
The warrior with the woman had seen Tarzan at the same instant that
the latter had discovered him.
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