"Pretty well convinced you know where we are now, Tarzan?" asked d'Arnot.

"Yes. I'm quite certain that we are east of Bonga and a little south. That buck I killed ranges in that district."

"Thome probably left Bonga today," said Gregory.

"By the time we reach Bonga he'll be many marches ahead of us. We'll never overtake Mm."

"We don't have to go to Bonga," said Tarzan. "We can strike out directly northeast and cut his trail; then we can follow! on faster than he can travel--boys with packs will slow him down. We're not handicapped by anything like that."

"You mean we can travel without porters or provisions?" demanded Gregory.

"We have been for the last four days," Tarzan reminded him. He looked quickly about the camp. "Where's Magra?" he asked. "I told her not to leave camp. This is lion country; and, if I'm right about the location, it's also cannibal country."

Magra had not meant to go far from the camp; but the forest was intriguing, and it seemed so quiet and peaceful. She walked slowly, enjoying the blooms, watching the birds. She stopped before a lovely orchid, which, like some beautiful woman, sucked the Me blood from the giant that supported it. Presently she recalled Tarzan's injunction, and turned to retrace her steps to camp. She did not see the great lion behind her which had caught her scent and was stalking her on silent, padded feet.

The men in the camp saw Tarzan rise to his feet, his head up, his nostrils quivering; then, to their amazement, they saw him run a few steps, swing into a tree, and disappear. They did not know that Usha, the wind, had brought the acrid scent spoor of Numa, the lion, to the sensitive nostrils of the ape-man, and that mingled with it was the delicate scent of the perfume that Magra loved, revealing to him an impending tragedy and sending him into the trees in the hope that he would reach the scene in time.

As Magra walked toward camp, an angry snarl from the king of beasts brought her suddenly about to awareness of the danger that confronted her. Instantly she realized the hopelessness of her situation and the futility of calling for help that could not reach her in time to prevent the inevitable. With her accustomed courage, she resigned herself to death; but even with death staring her in the face, she could scarcely restrain an involuntary exclamation of admiration for the magnificence of the great beast facing her. His size, his majestic bearing, the sheer ferocity of his snarling mien thrilled every fiber of her being. She did not want to die, but she felt that there could be no more noble death than beneath the mighty fangs and talons of the king of beasts.

Now the lion was creeping toward her, belly to ground, the end of his tail twitching nervously. Just for a yard or so he came thus; then he rose, but still crouching a little as he advanced. Suddenly, with a mighty roar, he charged; and at the same instant a man leaped from a tree above full upon his back.

"Brian!" she cried, with a gasp of astonishment.

The man clung to the back of the carnivore, his growls mingling with those of the great cat, as he drove his hunting knife again and again into the tawny side of the leaping, striking beast. Thrilled and horrified, Magra watched, fascinated, until the pierced heart ceased forever, and the great beast died. Then Magra had reason to shudder in real horror, as the Lord of the Jungle placed a foot upon the carcass of his kill and voiced the victory cry of the bull ape. Every fiber of the girl's body vibrated to a new thrill as she watched the man she now knew was not Brian Gregory.

As the uncanny cry broke the stillness of the jungle, Wolff, Gregory, and Lavac sprang to their feet. Wolff seized his rifle. "My God!" he cried. "What was that?"

"Tarzan has a made a kill," said d'Arnot.

"The Big Bwana has killed Simba," said Ogabi. "Are the white men deaf that they did not hear Simba roar?"

"Sure I heard it," said Wolff; "but that wild man never killed no lion--he had nothin' but a knife. I'd better go out there an' look after him." Carrying his rifle, he started in the direction of the sound that had startled them, Gregory and Lavac following. "That yell was when the lion got him," said Wolff.