The minutes dragged slowly into hours. Faintly sounds came to him
as of shouting men at a great distance. The battle was in progress.
He wondered if Ja-don would be victorious and should he be, would
his friends ever discover him in this hidden chamber in the bowels
of the hill? He doubted it.
And now as he looked again toward the aperture in the roof there
appeared to be something depending through its center. He came closer
and strained his eyes to see. Yes, there was something there. It
appeared to be a rope. Tarzan wondered if it had been there all the
time. It must have, he reasoned, since he had heard no sound from
above and it was so dark within the chamber that he might easily
have overlooked it.
He raised his hand toward it. The end of it was just within his
reach. He bore his weight upon it to see if it would hold him.
Then he released it and backed away, still watching it, as you have
seen an animal do after investigating some unfamiliar object, one
of the little traits that differentiated Tarzan from other men,
accentuating his similarity to the savage beasts of his native
jungle. Again and again he touched and tested the braided leather
rope, and always he listened for any warning sound from above.
He was very careful not to step upon the trap at any time and when
finally he bore all his weight upon the rope and took his feet from
the floor he spread them wide apart so that if he fell he would
fall astride the trap.
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