They were down wind from Tarzan, and so their scent was not carried
to him, and as his back was turned half toward them he did not see
their cautious advance over the edge of the promontory and down
through the rank grass toward the sandy beach where he lay.
Big fellows they were, all of them, their barbaric headdresses and
grotesquely painted faces, together with their many metal ornaments
and gorgeously coloured feathers, adding to their wild, fierce
appearance.
Once at the foot of the ridge, they came cautiously to their feet,
and, bent half-double, advanced silently upon the unconscious white
man, their heavy war-clubs swinging menacingly in their brawny
hands.
The mental suffering that Tarzan's sorrowful thoughts induced had
the effect of numbing his keen, perceptive faculties, so that the
advancing savages were almost upon him before he became aware that
he was no longer alone upon the beach.
So quickly, though, were his mind and muscles wont to react in
unison to the slightest alarm that he was upon his feet and facing
his enemies, even as he realized that something was behind him. As
he sprang to his feet the warriors leaped toward him with raised
clubs and savage yells, but the foremost went down to sudden death
beneath the long, stout stick of the ape-man, and then the lithe,
sinewy figure was among them, striking right and left with a fury,
power, and precision that brought panic to the ranks of the blacks.
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