“Silence, woman,” growled the High Priest. “I am Cadj, King of Opar, High Priest of the Flaming God. You are what you are only because of the favor of Cadj. Try not my patience too far or you shall indeed know the feel of the sacred knife.” There could be no mistaking the sinister menace in his words. Several of those about him could ill conceal the shocked surprise they felt at his sacrilegious attitude toward their High Priestess. However little they thought of Oah, the fact remained that she had been elevated to the highest place among them, and those that believed that La was dead, as Cadj had taken great pains to lead them all to believe, gave in full to Oah the reverence which her high office entitled her to. “Have a care, Cadj,” warned one of the older priests. “There is a limit beyond which not even you may pass.” “You dare threaten me?” cried Cadj, the maniacal fury of fanaticism gleaming in his eyes. “You dare threaten _me_, Cadj, the High Priest of the Flaming God?” And as he spoke he leaped toward the offending man, the sacrificial knife raised menacingly above his head, and just at that moment a little gray monkey came chattering and screaming through an embrasure in the wall overlooking the court of the temple. “The Bolgani! The Bolgani!” he shrieked. “They come! They come!” Cadj stopped and wheeled toward Manu, the hand that held the knife dropping at his side. “You saw them, Manu?” he asked. “You are speaking the truth? If this is another of your tricks you will not live to play another joke upon Cadj.” “I speak the truth,” chattered the little monkey. “I saw them with my own eyes.” “How many of them are there?” asked Cadj. “And how near to Opar have they come?” “They are as many as the leaves upon the trees,” replied Manu, “and they are already close to the temple wall—the Bolgani and the Gomangani, they come as the grasses that grow in the ravines where it is cool and damp.” Cadj turned and raised his face toward the sun, and throwing back his head gave voice to a long-drawn scream that ended in a piercing shriek. Three times he voiced the hideous cry, and then with a command to the others in the court to follow him he started at a brisk trot toward the palace proper. As Cadj directed his steps toward the ancient avenue, upon which the palace of Opar faced, there issued from every corridor and doorway groups of the knurled and hairy men of Opar, armed with their heavy bludgeons and their knives. Screaming and chattering in the trees above them were a score or more of little gray monkeys. “Not here,” they cried, “not here,” and pointed toward the south side of the city. Like an undisciplined mob the horde of priests and warriors reentered the palace at Cadj’s heels, and retraced their steps toward the opposite side of the edifice. Here they scrambled to the summit of the lofty wall which guards the palace, just as Tarzan’s forces came to a halt outside.