to liberty. He wasted no
breath in thanks to Korak, nor did the young man expect thanks. He
knew that none of the baboons would ever forget his service, though as
a matter of fact he did not care if they did. What he had done had
been prompted by a desire to be revenged upon the two white men. The
baboons could never be of service to him. Now they were racing in the
direction of the battle that was being waged between their fellows and
the followers of the two Swedes, and as the din of battle subsided in
the distance, Korak turned and resumed his journey toward the village
of Kovudoo.

On the way he came upon a herd of elephants standing in an open forest
glade. Here the trees were too far apart to permit Korak to travel
through the branches--a trail he much preferred not only because of its
freedom from dense underbrush and the wider field of vision it gave him
but from pride in his arboreal ability. It was exhilarating to swing
from tree to tree; to test the prowess of his mighty muscles; to reap
the pleasurable fruits of his hard won agility. Korak joyed in the
thrills of the highflung upper terraces of the great forest, where,
unhampered and unhindered, he might laugh down upon the great brutes
who must keep forever to the darkness and the gloom of the musty soil.

But here, in this open glade where Tantor flapped his giant ears and
swayed his huge bulk from side to side, the ape-man must pass along the
surface of the ground--a pygmy amongst giants. A great bull raised his
trunk to rattle a low warning as he sensed the coming of an intruder.
His weak eyes roved hither and thither but it was his keen scent and
acute hearing which first located the ape-man. The herd moved
restlessly, prepared for fight, for the old bull had caught the scent
of man.

"Peace, Tantor," called The Killer. "It is I, Korak, Tarmangani."

The bull lowered his trunk and the herd resumed their interrupted
meditations. Korak passed within a foot of the great bull. A sinuous
trunk undulated toward him, touching his brown hide in a half caress.
Korak slapped the great shoulder affectionately as he went by. For
years he had been upon good terms with Tantor and his people. Of all
the jungle folk he loved best the mighty pachyderm--the most peaceful
and at the same time the most terrible of them all. The gentle gazelle
feared him not, yet Numa, lord of the jungle, gave him a wide berth.
Among the younger bulls, the cows and the c