re also missing.

They found the way blocked by jammed and distorted rock. For two days
they labored to tear a way through to their imprisoned friends; but
when, after Herculean efforts, they had unearthed but a few yards of
the choked passage, and discovered the mangled remains of one of their
fellows they were forced to the conclusion that Tarzan and the second
Waziri also lay dead beneath the rock mass farther in, beyond human
aid, and no longer susceptible of it.

Again and again as they labored they called aloud the names of their
master and their comrade; but no answering call rewarded their
listening ears. At last they gave up the search. Tearfully they cast
a last look at the shattered tomb of their master, shouldered the heavy
burden of gold that would at least furnish comfort, if not happiness,
to their bereaved and beloved mistress, and made their mournful way
back across the desolate valley of Opar, and downward through the
forests beyond toward the distant bungalow.

And as they marched what sorry fate was already drawing down upon that
peaceful, happy home!

From the north came Achmet Zek, riding to the summons of his
lieutenant's letter. With him came his horde of renegade Arabs,
outlawed marauders, these, and equally degraded blacks, garnered from
the more debased and ignorant tribes of savage cannibals through whose
countries the raider passed to and fro with perfect impunity.

Mugambi, the ebon Hercules, who had shared the dangers and vicissitudes
of his beloved Bwana, from Jungle Island, almost to the headwaters of
the Ugambi, was the first to note the bold approach of the sinister
caravan.

He it was whom Tarzan had left in charge of the warriors who remained
to guard Lady Greystoke, nor could a braver or more loyal guardian have
been found in any clime or upon any soil. A giant in stature, a
savage, fearless warrior, the huge black possessed also soul and
judgment in proportion to his bulk and his ferocity.

Not once since his master had departed had he been beyond sight or
sound of the bungalow, except when Lady Greystoke chose to canter
across the broad plain, or relieve the monotony of her loneliness by a
brief hunting excursion. On such occasions Mugambi, mounted upon a
wiry Arab, had ridden close at her horse's heels.

The raiders were still a long way off when the warrior's keen eyes
discovered them. For a time he stood scrutinizing the advancing party
in silence, then he turn