Adventure stories; Fantasy fiction; Tarzan (Fictitious character) -- Fiction
The bow and the arrows and the long knife had brought him thus far
safely, yet often in the face of great risks that could have been
minimized by a single shot from the well-kept rifle at his back. What
purpose might he have for conserving this precious ammunition? in
risking his life to bring the last bright shining missile to his
unknown goal? For what, for whom were these death-dealing bits of metal
preserved? In all the world only he knew.
When Pan-at-lee stepped over the edge of the cliff above Kor-ul-lul she
expected to be dashed to instant death upon the rocks below; but she
had chosen this in preference to the rending fangs of JA. Instead,
chance had ordained that she make the frightful plunge at a point where
the tumbling river swung close beneath the overhanging cliff to eddy
for a slow moment in a deep pool before plunging madly downward again
in a cataract of boiling foam, and water thundering against rocks.
Into this icy pool the girl shot, and down and down beneath the watery
surface until, half choked, yet fighting bravely, she battled her way
once more to air. Swimming strongly she made the opposite shore and
there dragged herself out upon the bank to lie panting and spent until
the approaching dawn warned her to seek concealment, for she was in the
country of her people's enemies.
Rising, she moved into the concealment of the rank vegetation that
grows so riotously in the well-watered kors[1] of Pal-ul-don.
Hidden amidst the plant life from the sight of any who might chance to
pass along the well-beaten trail that skirted the river Pan-at-lee
sought rest and food, the latter growing in abundance all about her in
the form of fruits and berries and succulent tubers which she scooped
from the earth with the knife of the dead Es-sat.
Ah! if she had but known that he was dead! What trials and risks and
terrors she might have been saved; but she thought that he still lived
and so she dared not return to Kor-ul-JA. At least not yet while his
rage was at white heat. Later, perhaps, her father and brothers
returned to their cave, she might risk it; but not now--not now. Nor
could she for long remain here in the neighborhood of the hostile
Kor-ul-lul and somewhere she must find safety from beasts before the
night set in.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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