Now and again some ancient patriarch of the woods, rent
by a flashing bolt, would crash in a thousand pieces among
the surrounding trees, carrying down numberless branches
and many smaller neighbors to add to the tangled confusion
of the tropical jungle.
Branches, great and small, torn away by the ferocity of the
tornado, hurtled through the wildly waving verdure, carrying
death and destruction to countless unhappy denizens of the
thickly peopled world below.
For hours the fury of the storm continued without surcease,
and still the tribe huddled close in shivering fear.
In constant danger from falling trunks and branches and
paralyzed by the vivid flashing of lightning and the
bellowing of thunder they crouched in pitiful misery until
the storm passed.
The end was as sudden as the beginning. The wind ceased,
the sun shone forth--nature smiled once more.
The dripping leaves and branches, and the moist petals of
gorgeous flowers glistened in the splendor of the returning day.
And, so--as Nature forgot, her children forgot also. Busy life
went on as it had been before the darkness and the fright.
But to Tarzan a dawning light had come to explain the
mystery of CLOTHES. How snug he would have been beneath
the heavy coat of Sabor! And so was added a further incentive
to the adventure.
For several months the tribe hovered near the beach where
stood Tarzan's cabin, and his studies took up the greater
portion of his time, but always when journeying through the
forest he kept his rope in readiness, and many were the smaller
animals that fell into the snare of the quick thrown noose.
Pages:
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103