cry of his people.

One by one the tribe swung down from their arboreal retreats and formed
a circle about Tarzan and his vanquished foe. When they had all come
Tarzan turned toward them.

"I am Tarzan," he cried. "I am a great killer. Let all respect Tarzan
of the Apes and Kala, his mother. There be none among you as mighty as
Tarzan. Let his enemies beware."

Looking full into the wicked, red eyes of Kerchak, the young Lord
Greystoke beat upon his mighty breast and screamed out once more his
shrill cry of defiance.

Chapter VIII

The Tree-top Hunter

The morning after the Dum-Dum the tribe started slowly back through the
forest toward the coast.

The body of Tublat lay where it had fallen, for the people of Kerchak
do not eat their own dead.

The march was but a leisurely search for food. Cabbage palm and gray
plum, pisang and scitamine they found in abundance, with wild
pineapple, and occasionally small mammals, birds, eggs, reptiles, and
insects. The nuts they cracked between their powerful jaws, or, if too
hard, broke by pounding between stones.

Once old Sabor, crossing their path, sent them scurrying to the safety
of the higher branches, for if she respected their number and their
sharp fangs, they on their part held her cruel and mighty ferocity in
equal esteem.

Upon a low-hanging branch sat Tarzan directly above the majestic,
supple body as it forged silently through the thick jungle. He hurled
a pineapple at the ancient enemy of his people. The great beast
stopped and, turning, eyed the taunting figure above her.

With an angry lash of her tail she bared her yellow fangs, curling her
great lips in a hideous snarl that wrinkled her bristling snout in
serried ridges and closed her wicked eyes to two narrow slits of rage
and hatred.

With back-laid ears she looked straight into the eyes of Tarzan of the
Apes and sounded her fierce, shrill challenge. And from the safety of
his overhanging limb the ape-child sent back the fearsome answer of his
kind.

For a moment the two eyed each other in silence, and then the great cat
turned into the jungle, which swallowed her as the ocean engulfs a
tossed pebble.

But into the mind of Tarzan a great plan sprang. He had killed the
fierce Tublat, so was he not therefore a mighty fighter? Now would he
track down the crafty Sabor and slay her likewise. He would be a
mighty hunter, also.

At the bottom of his little English heart beat th