Moving leisurely, sometimes upon the ground and again among
the lower branches of the trees, gathering an occasional fruit or
turning over a fallen log in search of the larger bugs, which he
still found as palatable as of old, Tarzan had covered a mile or
more when his attention was attracted by the scent of Sheeta up-wind
ahead of him.
Now Sheeta, the panther, was one of whom Tarzan was exceptionally
glad to fall in with, for he had it in mind not only to utilize
the great cat's strong gut for his bow, but also to fashion a new
quiver and loin-cloth from pieces of his hide. So, whereas the
ape-man had gone carelessly before, he now became the personification
of noiseless stealth.
Swiftly and silently he glided through the forest in the wake of
the savage cat, nor was the pursuer, for all his noble birth, one
whit less savage than the wild, fierce thing he stalked.
As he came closer to Sheeta he became aware that the panther on his
part was stalking game of his own, and even as he realized this
fact there came to his nostrils, wafted from his right by a vagrant
breeze, the strong odour of a company of great apes.
The panther had taken to a large tree as Tarzan came within sight
of him, and beyond and below him Tarzan saw the tribe of Akut
lolling in a little, natural clearing.
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