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hand Werper could touch the spot where the pouch was buried。
For a long time he lay watching and listening。 He moved about；
making more noise than necessary； yet Tarzan did not awaken。 He drew
the sacrificial knife from his belt； and plunged it into the ground。 Tarzan
did not move。 Cautiously the Belgian pushed the blade downward
through the loose earth above the pouch。 He felt the point touch the soft；
tough fabric of the leather。 Then he pried down upon the handle。 Slowly
the little mound of loose earth rose and parted。 An instant later a corner of
the pouch came into view。 Werper pulled it from its hiding place； and
tucked it in his shirt。 Then he refilled the hole and pressed the dirt
carefully down as it had been before。
Greed had prompted him to an act； the discovery of which by his
companion could lead only to the most frightful consequences for Werper。
Already he could almost feel those strong； white fangs burying themselves
in his neck。 He shuddered。 Far out across the plain a leopard screamed；
and in the dense reeds behind him some great beast moved on padded feet。
Werper feared these prowlers of the night； but infinitely more he
feared the just wrath of the human beast sleeping at his side。 With
utmost caution the Belgian arose。 Tarzan did not move。 Werper took a
few steps toward the plain and the distant forest to the northwest； then he
paused and fingered the hilt of the long knife in his belt。 He turned and
looked down upon the sleeper。
〃Why not？〃 he mused。 〃Then I should be safe。〃
He returned and bent above the ape…man。 Clutched tightly in his
hand was the sacrificial knife of the High Priestess of the Flaming God！
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Tarzan and the Jewels of Opar
10
Achmet Zek Sees the Jewels
Mugambi； weak and suffering； had dragged his painful way along the
trail of the retreating raiders。 He could move but slowly； resting often； but
savage hatred and an equally savage desire for vengeance kept him to his
task。 As the days passed his wounds healed and his strength returned；
until at last his giant frame had regained all of its former mighty powers。
Now he went more rapidly； but the mounted Arabs had covered a great
distance while the wounded black had been painfully crawling after them。
They had reached their fortified camp； and there Achmet Zek awaited
the return of his lieutenant； Albert Werper。 During the long； rough
journey； Jane Clayton had suffered more in anticipation of her impending
fate than from the hardships of the road。
Achmet Zek had not deigned to acquaint her with his intentions
regarding her future。 She prayed that she had been captured in the hope
of ransom； for if such should prove the case； no great harm would befall
her at the hands of the Arabs； but there was the chance； the horrid chance；
that another fate awaited her。 She had heard of many women； among
whom were white women； who had been sold by outlaws such as Achmet
Zek into the slavery of black harems； or taken farther north into the almost
equally hideous existence of some Turkish seraglio。
Jane Clayton was of sterner stuff than that which bends in spineless
terror before danger。 Until hope proved futile she would not give it up；
nor did she entertain thoughts of self…destruction only as a final escape
from dishonor。 So long as Tarzan lived there was every reason to expect
succor。 No man nor beast who roamed the savage continent could boast
the cunning and the powers of her lord and master。 To her； he was little
short of omnipotent in his native worldthis world of savage beasts and
savage men。 Tarzan would come； and she would be rescued and avenged；
of that she was certain。 She counted the days that must elapse before he
would return from Opar and discover what had transpired during his
absence。 After that it would be but a short time before he had surrounded
the Arab stronghold and punished the motley crew of wrongdoers who
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Tarzan and the Jewels of Opar
inhabited it。
That he could find her she had no slightest doubt。 No spoor； however
faint； could elude the keen vigilance of his senses。 To him； the trail of
the raiders would be as plain as the printed page of an open book to her。
And while she hoped； there came through the dark jungle another。
Terrified by night and by day； came Albert Werper。 A dozen times he had
escaped the claws and fangs of the giant carnivora only by what seemed a
miracle to him。 Armed with nothing more than the knife he had brought
with him from Opar； he had made his way through as savage a country as
yet exists upon the face of the globe。
By night he had slept in trees。 By day he had stumbled fearfully on；
often taking refuge among the branches when sight or sound of some great
cat warned him from danger。 But at last he had come within sight of the
palisade behind which were his fierce companions。
At almost the same time Mugambi came out of the jungle before the
walled village。 As he stood in the shadow of a great tree； reconnoitering；
he saw a man； ragged and disheveled； emerge from the jungle almost at his
elbow。 Instantly he recognized the newcomer as he who had been a guest
of his master before the latter had departed for Opar。
The black was upon the point of hailing the Belgian when something
stayed him。 He saw the white man walking confidently across the
clearing toward the village gate。 No sane man thus approached a village
in this part of Africa unless he was sure of a friendly welcome。 Mugambi
waited。 His suspicions were aroused。
He heard Werper halloo； he saw the gates swing open； and he
witnessed the surprised and friendly welcome that was accorded the
erstwhile guest of Lord and Lady Greystoke。 A light broke upon the
understanding of Mugambi。 This white man had been a traitor and a spy。
It was to him they owed the raid during the absence of the Great Bwana。