For an hour Tarzan heard only the murmur of excited voices from
the far end of the village. Evidently the savages were once more
attempting to work up their flickering courage to a point that would
permit them to make another invasion of the hut, for now and then
came a savage yell, such as the warriors give to bolster up their
bravery upon the field of battle.
But in the end it was two of the whites who first entered, carrying
torches and guns. Tarzan was not surprised to discover that neither
of them was Rokoff. He would have wagered his soul that no power
on earth could have tempted that great coward to face the unknown
menace of the hut.
When the natives saw that the white men were not attacked they,
too, crowded into the interior, their voices hushed with terror
as they looked upon the mutilated corpse of their comrade. The
whites tried in vain to elicit an explanation from Tarzan; but to
all their queries he but shook his head, a grim and knowing smile
curving his lips.
At last Rokoff came.
His face grew very white as his eyes rested upon the bloody thing
grinning up at him from the floor, the face set in a death mask of
excruciating horror.
"Come!" he said to the chief. "Let us get to work and finish this
demon before he has an opportunity to repeat this thing upon more
of your people.
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