TARZAN AND THE LOST EMPIRE
of the legionaries instead. Their bodies, lying in the aisles, served as warning to the others.
Sublatus turned and whispered to a guest in the imperial loge. “This should be a lesson to all who would dare affront Caesar,” he said.
“Quite right,” replied the other. “Glorious Caesar is, indeed, all powerful,” but the fellow’s lips were blue from terror as he saw how great and menacing was the crowd and how slim and few looked the glittering pikes that stood between it and the imperial loge.
As the apes approached, Zutho was in the lead. “I am Zutho,” he cried. “I kill.”
“Look well, Zutho, before you kill your friend,” replied the ape-man. “I am Tarzan of the Apes.”
Zutho stopped, bewildered. The others crowded about him.
“The Tarmangani spoke in the language of the great apes,” said Zutho.
“I know him,” said Go-yad. “He was king of the tribe when I was a young ape.”
“It is, indeed, Whiteskin,” said Gayat.
“Yes,” said Tarzan, “I am Whiteskin. We are all prisoners here together. These Tarmangani are my enemies and yours. They wish us to fight, but we shall not.”
“No,” said Zutho, “we shall not fight against Tarzan.”
“Good,” said the ape-man, as they gathered close around him, sniffing that their noses might validate the testimony of their eyes.
“What has happened?” growled Sublatus. “Why do they not attack him?”
“He has cast a spell upon them,” replied Caesar’s guest.
The people looked on wonderingly. They heard the beasts and the man growling at one another. How could they guess that they were speaking together in their common language? They saw Tarzan turn and walk toward Caesar’s loge, his bronzed skin brushing against the black coats of the savage beasts lumbering at his side. The ape-man and the apes halted below imperial Caesar. Tarzan’s eyes ran quickly around the arena. The wall was lined with legionaries so not
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