forest.

The Arabs and their followers were thrown into a fine rage at this
unprecedented occurrence. They ran for the gates, to wreak dire
vengeance upon the foolhardy perpetrator of the outrage; but they
suddenly realized that they did not know which way to turn to find
the foe. As they stood debating with many angry shouts and much
gesticulating, one of the Arabs sank silently to the ground in
their very midst--a thin arrow protruding from his heart.

Tarzan had placed the finest marksmen of the tribe in the surrounding
trees, with directions never to reveal themselves while the enemy
was faced in their direction. As a black released his messenger
of death he would slink behind the sheltering stem of the tree he
had selected, nor would he again aim until a watchful eye told him
that none was looking toward his tree.

Three times the Arabs started across the clearing in the direction
from which they thought the arrows came, but each time another arrow
would come from behind to take its toll from among their number.
Then they would turn and charge in a new direction. Finally they
set out upon a determined search of the forest, but the blacks
melted before them, so that they saw no sign of an enemy.

But above them lurked a grim figure in the dense foliage of the
mighty trees--it was Tarzan of the Apes, hovering over them as if
he had been the shadow of death. Presently a Manyuema forged ahead
of his companions; there was none to see from what direction death
came, and so it came quickly, and a moment later those behind
stumbled over the dead body of their comrade--the inevitable arrow