He was sure now of the meaning
of Rokoff's words.
The ape-man's face went white as he looked upon the pasty, vice-marked
countenance of the Swede. Across Tarzan's forehead stood out the
broad band of scarlet that marked the scar where, years before,
Terkoz had torn a great strip of the ape-man's scalp from his skull
in the fierce battle in which Tarzan had sustained his fitness to
the kingship of the apes of Kerchak.
The man was his prey--the black should not have him, and with the
thought he leaped upon the warrior, striking down the spear before
it could reach its mark. The black, whipping out his knife, turned
to do battle with this new enemy, while the Swede, lying in the
bush, witnessed a duel, the like of which he had never dreamed to
see--a half-naked white man battling with a half-naked black, hand
to hand with the crude weapons of primeval man at first, and then
with hands and teeth like the primordial brutes from whose loins
their forebears sprung.
For a time Anderssen did not recognize the white, and when at last
it dawned upon him that he had seen this giant before, his eyes
went wide in surprise that this growling, rending beast could ever
have been the well-groomed English gentleman who had been a prisoner
aboard the Kincaid.
An English nobleman! He had learned the identity of the Kincaid's
prisoners from Lady Greystoke during their flight up the Ugambi.
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