Classic Audiobook Collection - Tarzan and the Lost Empire by Edgar Rice Burroughs ~ Full Audiobook [adventure]

Episode Date: March 6, 2024

Tarzan and the Lost Empire by Edgar Rice Burroughs audiobook. Genre: adventure When rumors surface of a forgotten colony hidden deep in Africa, Lord Greystoke - better known as Tarzan - finds himself drawn into a mystery that feels older than the jungle itself. A strange map, whispered legends of an ancient people, and the disappearance of travelers point toward a region no outsider is meant to reach. Tarzan joins an expedition led by determined scholars and wary guides, but the journey quickly becomes more than a simple search for ruins. Rival interests close in, the wilderness turns treacherous, and every mile deeper into the interior tests the party's courage and loyalty.As Tarzan navigates shifting alliances and mounting dangers, he must rely on both his keen instincts and his hard-won understanding of civilization to keep the expedition alive. The discovery they seek could reshape everything the world believes about history - but it also threatens to awaken forces and ambitions that cannot be easily contained. In a landscape where the jungle hides as much as it reveals, Tarzan confronts the pull of the unknown and the cost of uncovering a lost empire. For ad-free listening try our premium subscription Chapters (Approximate) (00:00:00) Chapter 01 (00:14:06) Chapter 02 (00:33:17) Chapter 03 (00:44:16) Chapter 04 (01:04:27) Chapter 05 (01:22:29) Chapter 06 (01:41:59) Chapter 07 (02:01:37) Chapter 08 (02:27:04) Chapter 09 (02:57:08) Chapter 10 (03:22:30) Chapter 11 (03:34:47) Chapter 12 (03:49:00) Chapter 13 (04:18:34) Chapter 14 (04:37:38) Chapter 15 (04:57:59) Chapter 16 (05:14:43) Chapter 17 (05:31:11) Chapter 18 (05:44:41) Chapter 19 (06:01:53) Chapter 20 (06:10:32) Chapter 21 (06:26:49) Chapter 22 (06:46:48) Chapter 23 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Tarzan and the Lost Empire. Chapter 1 Enkima danced excitedly upon the naked brown shoulder of his master. He chattered and scolded, now looking up inquiringly into Tarzan's face, and then off into the jungle. "'Something is coming, Buena,' said Muviro, sub-chief of the Waziri. Enkima has heard it. And Tarzan, said the ape-man. "'The big Buona's ears are as keen as the ears of Barra, the Antelope,' said Muviro.

"'Had they not been, Tarzan would not be here today,' replied the ape-man with a smile. "'He would not have grown to manhood, had not Kala his mother, taught him to use all of the senses that Moolungu gave him.' "'What comes?' asked Muviro. "'A party of men,' replied Tarzan. "'Perhaps they are not friendly,' suggested the black. "'Shall I want the warriors?' Tarzan glanced about the little camp where a score of its black fighting men were busy preparing their evening meal, and saw that, as was the custom of the waziri, their weapons

were in order and at hand. "'No,' he said. "'It will, I believe, be unnecessary, as these people who are approaching do not come stealthily as enemies would, nor are their number so great as to cause us any apprehension. But Nkima, a born pessimist, expected only the worst, and as the approaching party came nearer, his excitement increased. He leapt from Tarzan's shoulder to the ground, jumped up and down several times, and then, springing back to Tarzan's side, seized his arm and attempted to drag him to his feet. "'Run! Run!' he cried in the language of the air.

shapes. Strange gomangani are coming. They will kill little Nkima. Do not be afraid, Enkima, said the ape-man. Tarzan and Muvira will not let strangers hurt you. I smell a strange tarmangani, chattered Nkima. There is a tarmangani with them. The tarmangani are worse than the gomangani. They come with thundersticks and kill little Nkima and all his brothers and sisters. They kill the Mangani. They kill the gongani. They kill the Go Mungani. They kill everything with their thundersticks. Nkima does not like the Tar-Mangani. Nkima is afraid. To Nkima, as to the other denizens of the jungle, Tarzan was no Tarmangani, no white man. He was of the jungle. He was one of them, and if they thought of him as being

anything other than just Tarzan, it was as a Mangani, a great ape that they classified him. The advance of the strangers was now plainly audible to everyone in the camp. The waziri warriors glanced into the jungle in the direction from which the sounds were coming, and then back to Tarzan and Muviro, but when they saw that their leaders were not concerned, they went quietly on with their cooking. A tall black warrior was the first of the party to come within sight of the camp. When he saw the waziri, he halted, and an instant later a bearded wakened. white man stopped beside him.

For an instant, the white man surveyed the camp and then came forward, making the sign of peace. Out of the jungle, a dozen or more blacks followed him. Most of them were porters, there being but three or four rifles in evidence. Tarzan and the Waziri realized at once that it was a small and harmless party, and even in Kima, who had retreated to the safety of a nearby tree, showed his contempt by scanning. ampering fearlessly back to climb to the shoulder of his master. "'Dr. von Harbin!' exclaimed Tarzan, as the bearded stranger approached. "'I scarcely recognized you at first.'

"'God has been kind to me, Tarzan of the apes,' said Van Harbin, extending his hand. "'I was on my way to see you, and have found you a full two-day's march sooner than I expected.' "'We are after a cattle-killer,' explained Tarzan. has come into our crawl several nights of late, and killed some of our best cattle, but he is very cunning. I think he must be an old lion to outwit Tarzan for so long. But what brings you into Tarzan's country, doctor? I hope it is only a neighborly visit, and that no trouble has come to my good friend, though your appearance belies my hope. I too wish that it were nothing more than a friendly call, said Van Harbin, but as a matter of fact, I am here to seek your help because I am in

trouble. Very serious trouble I fear. Do not tell me that the Arabs have come down again to take slaves or to steal ivory, or is it that the leopard men are waylaying your people upon the jungle trails at night? No, it is neither the one nor the other. I have come to see you upon a more personal matter. It is about my son, Eric. You have never met him. No, said Tarzan, but you are tired and hungry. Let your men make camp here. My evening meal is ready.

While you and I eat, you shall tell me how Tarzan may serve you. As the Waziri, at Tarzan's command, assisted Von Harbin's blacks in making their camp. The doctor and the ape-man sat cross-legged upon the ground and ate the rough fare that Tarzan's Waziric cook had prepared. prepared. Tarzan saw that his guest's mind was filled with the trouble that had brought him in search of the ape-man, and so he did not wait until they had finished the meal to reopen the subject, but urged Van Harbin to continue his story at once.

"'I wish to preface the real object of my visit with a few words of explanation,' commenced von Harbin. "'Eryk is my only son. Four years ago, at the age of nineteen, he completed his university course with honors and received his first degree. Since then, he has spent the greater part of his time in pursuing his studies in various European universities, where he has specialized in archaeology and the study of dead languages. His one hobby, outside of his chosen field, has been mountain climbing, and during succeeding summer vacations, he scaled every important alpine peak. A few months ago, he came here to visit me at the mission, and it was a little bit of

immediately became interested in the study of the various Bantu dialects that are in use by the several tribes in our district, and those adjacent there too. While pursuing his investigation among the natives, he ran across that old legend of the lost tribe of the Wiramwazi Mountains, with which we are all so familiar. Immediately, his mind became imbued, as have the minds of so many others, with the belief that this fable might have originated in fact, and that if he could trace it down, he might possibly find descendants of one of the last tribes of biblical history. "'I know the legend well,' said Tarzan, and because it is so persistent and the details of its narration by the native so circumstantial, I have thought that I should like to investigate

it myself. But in the past, no necessity has arisen to take me close to the Wiramwasi mountains. I must confess, continued the doctor, that I also have had the same urge many times. I have, upon two occasions, talked with men of the Bagheigo tribe that live upon the slopes of the Wiramazi Mountains, and in both instances I have been assured that a tribe of white men dwell somewhere in the depths of that great mountain range. Both of these men told me that their tribe has carried on trade with these people from time immemorial, and each assured me that he had often seen members of the lost tribe, both upon occasions of peaceful trading, and during the warlike raids that the mountaineers occasionally launched upon the Baguigo. The result was that, when Eric suggested

an expedition to the Wiramazi, I rather encouraged him, since he was well-fitted to undertake the adventure. His knowledge of Bantu and his intensive, even though brief experience among the natives, gave him an advantage that few scholars otherwise equipped by education to profit by such an expedition would have, while his considerable experience as a mountain climber, I would, I felt, stand him in good stead during such an adventure. On the whole, I felt that he was an ideal man to lead such an expedition, and my only regret was that I quote, could not accompany him, but this was impossible at the time. I assisted him in every way possible in the organization of his safari

and in equipping and provisioning it. He has not been gone a sufficient length of time to accomplish any considerable investigation and return to the mission, but recently a few of the members of his safari were reported to me as having returned to their villages. When I sought to interview them, they avoided me, but rumors reached me that convinced me that all was not well with my son. I therefore determined to organize a relief expedition, but in all my district I could find only these few men

who dared accompany me to the Wiramazi Mountains, which their legends assure them are inhabited by malign spirits, for, as you know, they considered the lost tribe of the Wiramazi to be a band of bloodthirsty ghosts. It became evident to me that the deserters of Eric's Safari had spread terror through the district. Under the circumstances, I was compelled to look elsewhere for help, and naturally I turned in my perplexity to Tarzan, Lord of the Jungle.

Now you know why I am here. I will help you, Doctor, said Tarzan after the other had concluded. Could, exclaimed Van Harbin, but I knew that you would. You have about twenty men here, I should judge, and I have about fourteen. My men can act as carriers, while yours, who are acknowledged to be the finest fighting men in Africa, can serve as Ascari's.

With you to guide us, we can soon pick up the trail, and with such a force, small though it be, there is no country that we cannot penetrate. Tarzan shook his head. No, doctor, he said, I shall go alone. That is always my way. alone I may travel much more rapidly, and when I am alone the jungle holds no secrets from me. I shall be able to obtain more information along the way than would be possible where I accompanied by others.

You know the jungle people consider me one of themselves. They do not run away from me, as they would from you and these blacks. "'You know best,' said von Harbin. "'I should like to accompany you. I should like to feel that I'm doing it, my share, but if you say no, I can only abide by your decision. Return to your mission, Doctor, and wait there until you hear from me. And in the morning you will leave for the Wiramwasi Mountains? asked von Harbin. I leave at once, said the ape-man.

But it is already dark, objected Van Harbin. There is a full moon, and I wish to take advantage of it, explain the other. I can lie up in the heat of the day for what you can lie up in the heat of the day for what rest I need. He turned and called Muviro to him. Return home with my warriors, Mouverro, he instructed, and hold every fighting man of the waziri in readiness in the event that I find it necessary to send for you. Yes, Buena, replied Muviro. And how long shall we wait for a message before we set out for the Wiramasi Mountains and

such of you? I shall take Nkimu with me, and if I need you, I shall send him back to fetch and to guide you. Yes, Buena, replied Muviro. They will be in readiness, all the fighting men of the Waziri. Their weapons will be at hand by day and by night, and fresh war paint will be ready in every pot. Tarzan swung his bow and square of arrows across his back. Over his left shoulder and under his right arm lay the coils of his grass rope,

and at his hip dangled the hunting-knife of his long-dead sire. He picked up his short spear, and he picked up his short spear, and he, and he picked up the short spear and stood for the moment with head up, sniffing the breeze. The firelight played upon his bronzed skin. For a moment he stood thus, every sense alert. Then he called to Nkima in the tongue of the ape-folk, and as the little monkey scampered toward him, Tarzan of the apes turned without a word of farewell and moved silently off into the jungle, his lithe carriage, his noiseless tread, his majestic means suggesting to the mind of unharbon, a personification of another mighty jungle animal,

Numa the Lion, King of Beasts. End of Chapter 1 Chapter 2 of Tarzan and the Lost Empire by Edgar Rice Burroughs. This Libervox recording is in the public domain. Tarzan and the Lost Empire, Chapter 2. Eric von Harbin stepped from his tent upon the shores of the Wyramwasi Mountains, to look upon a deserted camp.

When he had first awakened, the unusual quiet of his surroundings had aroused within him a presentiment of ill, which was augmented when repeated calls for his body-servant, Gambula, elicited no response. For weeks, as the safari had been approaching the precincts of the feared Wiramwasi, his men had been deserting by twos and threes, until the preceding evening, when they had made this camp well upon the mountain slopes, only a terrified remnant of the original safari had remained with him. Now even these, overcome during the night by the terrors of ignorance and superstition, had permitted fear to supplant loyalty, and had fled from the impending and invisible terrors of this frowning range, leaving their master alone with the bloodthirsty spirits of the dead.

A hasty survey of the campsite revealed that the blacks had stripped von Harbin of everything. all of his supplies were gone, and his gun carriers had decamped with his rifles and all of his ammunition, with the exception of a single Luger pistol and its belt of ammunition that had been in the tent with him. Eric von Harbin had had sufficient experience with these natives to understand fairly well the mental processes based upon their deep-rooted superstition that had led them to this seemingly inhuman and disloyal act, and so he did not place so much blame upon them as might another less familiar with them.

While they had known their destination when they embarked upon the undertaking, their courage had been high in direct proportion to the great distance that they had been from the Wiramwasi. But in proportion as the distance lessened with each day's march, their courage had lessened, until now upon the very threshold of horrors beyond the ken of human minds,

the last vestige of self-control had deserted them and they had fled precipitately. that they had taken his provisions, his rifles, and his ammunition, might have seemed the depth of baseness had von Harbin not realized the sincerity of their belief that there could be no possible hope for him and that his immediate death was a foregone conclusion. He knew that they had reasoned that, under the circumstances, it would be a waste of food to leave it behind for a man who was already as good as dead,

when they would need it for their return to their villages, And likewise, as the weapons of mortal man could avail nothing against the ghosts of Wiramwazi, it would have been a needless extravagance to have surrendered fine rifles and quantities of ammunition that von Harbin could not use against his enemies of the spirit world. Von Harbin stood for some time looking down the mountain slope toward the forest, somewhere in the depths of which his men were hasting toward their own country. That he might overtake them was a possibility, but by no means a certainty, and if he did not he would be no better off alone in the jungle

than he would be on the slopes of the Wiramwazi. He faced about and looked up toward the rugged heights above him. He had come a long way to reach his goal, which now lay somewhere just beyond that serrated skyline, and he was of no mind to turn back now in defeat. A day or week in these rugged mountains might reveal the secret of the lost tribe of legend, And surely a month would be sufficient to determine beyond a reasonable doubt that the story had no basis, in fact. For von Harbin believed that in a month he could fairly well explore such portions of the

range as might naturally lend themselves to human habitation, where he hoped at best to find relics of the faded tribe in the form of ruins or burial mounds. For to a man of Van Harbin's training and intelligence, there could be no thought that the lost tribe of legend, if it had ever existed, existed, could be anything more than a vague memory surrounding a few moldy artifacts and some crumbling bones. It did not take the young man long to reach a decision, and presently he turned back to his tent, and entering it packed a few necessities that had been left to him in a light haversack, strapped his ammunition belt about him, and stepped forth once more to

turn his face upward toward the mystery of the Wiramwasi. In addition to his luger, von Harbin carried a hunting-knife, and with this he presently cut a stout staff from one of the small trees that grew sparsely upon the mountainside against the time when he might find an alpenstock indispensable. A mountain rill furnished him pure cold water to quench his thirst, and he carried his pistol cocked, hoping that he might bag some small game to satisfy his hunger. Nor had he gone far before a hair broke cover, and as it rolled over to the crack of the luger, von Harbin gave thanks that he had devoted much time to perfecting himself in the use of small arms. On the spot he built a fire and grilled the hair, after which he lit his pipe and lay at ease

while he smoked and planned. His was not a temperament to be depressed or discouraged by seeming reverses, and he was determined not to be hurried by excitement, but to conserve his strength at all times during the strenuous days that he felt must lie ahead of him. All day he climbed, choosing the long way when it seemed safer, exercising all the lure of mountain climbing that he had accumulated and resting often. Night overtook him well up toward the summit of the highest ridge that had been visible from the base of the range. What lay behind he could not even guess, but experience suggested that he would find other ridges and frowning peaks before him. He had brought a blanket with him from the last camp, and in this he rolled up on the ground. From below there came the noises of the jungle subdued by distance, the yapping of jackals,

and faintly from afar the roaring of a lion. Toward morning he was awakened by the scream of a leopard, not from the jungle far below, but somewhere upon the mountain slopes nearby. He knew that this savage night-prowler constituted a real menace, perhaps the greatest he would have to face, and he regretted the loss of his heavy rifle. He was not afraid, for he knew that, after all, there was little likelihood that the leopard was hunting him, or that it would attack him, but there was always that chance, and so to guard against it he started a fire of dry wood that he had gathered for the purpose the night before.

He found the warmth of the blaze welcome, for the night had grown cold, and he sat for some time warming himself. Once he thought he heard an animal moving in the darkness beyond the range of the firelight, but he saw no shining eyes and the sound was not repeated. And then he must have slept, for the next thing that he knew it was daylight and only embers remained to mark where the beast fire had blazed. Cold and without breakfast, Van Harbin continued the ascent from his cheerless camp. His eyes, under the constant urging of his stomach, always is alert for food. The terrain offered few obstacles to an experienced mountain climber, and he even forgot his

hunger in the thrill of expectancy in which he anticipated the possibilities hidden by the ridge whose summit now lay but a short distance ahead of him. It is the summit of the next ridge that ever lures the explorer onward. What new sights lie just beyond? What mysteries will its achievement unveil to the eager eyes of the adventure? Venturer. Judgment and experience joined forces to assure him that when his eyes surmounted the ridge ahead, they would be rewarded with nothing more startling than another similar ridge to be negotiated. Yet there was always that other hope hanging like a shining beacon just below the next

horizon, above which the rays of its hidden light served to illuminate the figments of his desire, and his imagination transformed the figments into realities. Von Harbin, sane and phlegmatic as he was, was now key to the highest pitch of excitement as he at last scaled the final barrier and stood upon the crest of the ridge. Before him stretched a rolling plateau, dotted with stunted wind-swept trees, and in the distance lay the next ridge that he had anticipated, but indistinct and imperple by the haze of distance. What lay between him and those far hills, his pulse quickened,

at the thought of the possibilities for exploration and discovery that lay before him, for the terrain that he looked upon was entirely different from what he had anticipated. No lofty peaks were visible, except in the far distance, and between him and them there must lie intriguing ravines and valleys, virgin fields at the feet of the explorer. Eagerly, entirely forgetful of his hunger or his solitude, von Harbin moved northward across the plateau, The land was gently rolling, rock-strewn, sterile, and uninteresting, and when he had covered a mile of it,

he commenced to have misgivings. For if it continued on without change to the dim hills in the distance, as it now seemed was quite likely the case, it could offer him neither interest nor a sustenance. As these thoughts were commencing to oppress him, he became suddenly conscious of a vague change in the appearance of the terrain ahead. It was only an impression of unreality. The hills far away before him seemed to rise out of a great void, and it was as though between him and them there existed nothing. He might have been looking across an inland sea to distant, hazy shores, a waterless sea, for nowhere was there any suggestion of water.

And then suddenly he came to a halt, startled, amazed. The rolling plateau ceased abruptly, his feet, and below him, stretching far to the distant hills, lay a great abyss. A mighty canyon similar to that which has made the gorge of the Colorado world famous. But here there was a marked difference. There were indications of erosion. The grim walls were scarred and water-worn. Towers and turrets and minarets carved from the native granite pointed upward from below. But they clung close to the canyon's wall, and just beyond them he could see the broad expanse of the floor of the canyon, which from his great height above it appeared as level

as a billiard table. The scene held him in a hypnosis of wonderment and admiration, as at first swiftly and then slowly, his eyes encompassed the whole astounding scene. Perhaps a mile below him lay the floor of the sunken canyon. the further wall of which he could but vaguely estimate to be somewhere between 15 and 20 miles to the north, and this, he realized, was the lesser dimension of the canyon. Upon his right, to the east and upon his left to the west, he could see that the canyon extended to considerable distances, just how far he could not guess. He thought that to the east he could trace the wall that hemmed it upon that side,

but from where he stood the entire extent of the canyon to the west was not not visible, yet he knew that the floor that was visible to him must stretch fully twenty-five or thirty miles from east to west. Almost below him was a large lake or marsh that seemed to occupy the greater part of the east end of the canyon. He could see lanes of water winding through what appeared to be great growths of reeds, and near the northern shore a large island. Three streams, winding ribbons far below, emptied into the lake, and in the lake, and in the in the far distance was another ribbon that might be a road. To the west the canyon was heavily wooded, and between the forest and the lake he saw moving figures of what he thought to be

grazing game. The sight below him aroused the enthusiasm of the explorer to its highest pitch. Here doubtless lay the secret of the lost tribe of the Wiramazi. And how well nature had guarded this secret with stupendous barrier cliffs aided by the superstitious. of the ignorant black inhabitants of the outer slopes was now easily understandable. As far as he could see, the cliff seemed sheer and impossible of descent, and yet he knew that he must find a way, that he would find a way down into that valley of enchantment. Moving slowly along the rim, he sought some foothold, however slight, where nature had lowered

her guard, but it was almost night, and he had covered but a short distance before he found even a suggestion of hope that the canyon was hemmed at any point by other than unbroken cliffs, whose perpendicular faces rose at their lowest point fully a thousand feet above any possible foothold for a human being. The sun had already set when he discovered a narrow fissure in the granite wall. Crumbled fragments of the mother rock had fallen into and partially filled it, so that near the surface at least it offered a means of descent below the level of the cliff-top. but in the gathering darkness he could not determine how far downward this rough and precarious pathway led. He could see that below him the cliffs rose in terraced battlements to within

a thousand feet of where he stood, and if the narrow fissure extended to the next terrace below him, he felt that the obstacles thereafter would present fewer difficulties than those that baffled him up to the present time. For while he would still have some four thousand feet to descend, the formation of the cliffs was much more broken at the foot of the first sheer drop, and consequently might be expected to offer some avenues of descent of which an experienced mountain climber could take advantage. Hungry and cold, he sat beneath the descending night, gazing down into the blackening void below.

Presently, as the darkness deepened, he saw a light twinkling far below, and then another and another, and with each his excitement rose, for he knew that they marked the presence of man. In many places upon the marsh-like lake he saw the fires twinkling, and at a point which he took to mark the side of the island there were many lights. What sort of men were they who tended these fires? Would he find them friendly or hostile?

Were they but another tribe of African blacks, or could it be that the old legend was based upon truth, and that far below him, white men of the lost tribe cooked their evening meals above those tantalizing fires of mystery. What was that? Van Harbin strained his ears to catch the faint suggestion of a sound that arose out of the shadowy abyss below, a faint, thin sound that barely reached his ears,

but he was sure that he could not be mistaken. The sound was the voices of men. And now from out of the valley came the story, came the scream of a beast, and again a roar that rumbled upward like distant thunder. To the music of these sounds, Von Harbin finally succumbed to exhaustion, sleep for the moment, offering him relief from cold and hunger. When morning came he gathered wood from the stunted trees nearby, and built a fire to warm himself.

He had no food, nor all the previous day since he had reached the summit, had he seen any sign of a living creature other than the game a mile beneath him on the verdant meadows of the canyon bottom. He knew that he must have food, and have it soon, and food lay but a mile away in one direction. If he sought to circle the canyon in search of an easier avenue of descent, he knew that he might not find one in the hundred miles or more that he must travel. Of course, he might turn back. He was sure that he could reach the base of the outer side, slopes of the Wyramazi, where he knew that game might be found before exhaustion overcame him, but he had no mind to turn back, and the thought of failure was only a vague suggestion

that scarcely ever rose above the threshold of his conscious mind. Having warmed himself before the fire, he turned to examine the fissure by the full light of day. As he stood upon its brink, he could see that it extended downward for several hundred feet, but there it disappeared. However, he was by no means sure that it ended, since it was not a vertical cleft, but tilted slightly from the perpendicular. From where he stood he could see that there were places in the fissure where descent would be just possible, though it might be very difficult to reascend. He knew, therefore, that should he reach the bottom of the fissure and find that further

descent was impossible, he would be caught in a trap from which there might be no escape. Although he felt as fit and strong as ever, he realized perfectly that the contrary was the fact, and that his strength must be ebbing, and that it would continue to eb still more rapidly, the longer that he was forced to expend it in arduous efforts to descend the cliff and without any possibility of rebuilding it with food. Even to Eric von Harbin, young, self-confident and enthusiastic, his next step seemed little better than suicidal. To another, the mere idea of attempting the descent of these towering cliffs would have seemed madness.

But in other mountains, von Harbin had always found a way, and with this thin thread upon which to hang his hopes, he faced the descent into the unknown. Now he was just about to lower himself over the edge of the fissure when he heard the sounds of footsteps behind him. Wheeling quickly, he drew his luger. End of Chapter 2. Chapter 3 of Tarzan and the Lost Empire by Edgar Rice Burroughs. This Libervox recording is in the public domain.

Tarzan and the Lost Empire. Chapter 3 Little Enkima came racing through the treetops, jabbering excitedly, and dropped to the knee of Tarzan of the apes, where the latter lay stretched upon the great branch of a jungle giant, his back against the rough bowl, where he was lying up after making a kill and feeding. "'Gomangani! Gomongani!' shriled Enkima.

"'They come! They come!' "'Piece,' said Tarzan. "'You are a greater nuisance than all the Gomangani in the jungle.' "'They will kill, little Nkima,' cried the monkey. "'They are strange Gomangani, and there are no Tarmangani among them.' "'Nquimah thinks everything wants to kill him,' said Tarzan, "'and yet he has lived many years and is not dead yet.' "'Seabor and Shida and Numa, the Gomongani and Hista the snake,

like to eat poor little Nkima,' wailed the monkey. "'That is why he is afraid.' "'Do not fear Enkima,' said the ape-man. Tarzan will let no one hurt you. "'Go and see the gomangani,' urged Nkima. "'Go and kill them. "'Nkema does not like that. the gomangani. Tarzan arose leisurely.

I go, he said. Inchema may come, or he may hide in the upper terraces. Enkima is not afraid, blustered the little monkey. He will go and fight the gomangani with Tarzan of the apes. And he leapt to the back of the ape-man and clung there with his arms about the bronze throat, from which point of vantage he peered fearfully ahead, first over the top of one broad shoulder, and then over the top of the other. Tarzan swung swiftly and quietly through the trees toward a point where Nkima had discovered the blacks, and presently he saw below him some score of natives straggling along the jungle trail. A few of them were armed with rifles and all carry packs of various sizes. Such packs as

Tarzan knew must belong to the equipment of a white man. The Lord of the Jungle hailed them, and startled, the blacks halted, looking up fearfully. I am Tarzan of the apes. Do not be afraid, Tarzan reassured them, and simultaneously he dropped lightly to the trail among them. But as he did so, Enkima leapt frantically from his shoulders and scampered swiftly to a high branch far above, where he sat chattering and scolding, entirely forgetful of his vain boasting of a few moments before.

Where is your master? demanded Tarzan. The blacks looked sullenly at the ground. but did not reply. "'Where is the Buanna von Harbin?' Tarzan insisted. A tall black standing near fidgeted uneasily. "'He is dead,' he mumbled. "'How did he die?' asked Tarzan. Again the black hesitated before replying.

"'A bull elephant that he had wounded killed him,' he said at last. "'Where is his body?' "'We could not find it.' "'Then how do you know, that he was killed by a bull elephant, demanded the ape-man. "'We do not know,' spoke up another black. "'He went away from the camp and did not return.'

"'There was an elephant about, and we thought that it had killed him,' said the first black. "'You are not speaking true words,' said Tarzan. "'I shall tell you the truth,' said a third black. "'Our Buanna ascended the slopes of the Wiramwasi, and the spirits of the dead being angry seized him and carried him away. I shall tell you the truth, said Tarzan.

You have deserted your master and run away, leaving him alone in the forest. We were afraid, said the third Black. We warned him not to ascend the slopes of the Wiramazi. We begged him to turn back. He would not listen to us, and the spirits of the dead carried him away. How long ago was that? asked the ape-man.

Six, seven, perhaps ten March, I do not remember." Where was he when you last saw him?" As accurately as they could the blacks described the location of their last camp upon the slopes of the Wyramwasi. Go your way back to your own villages in the Urambe country. I shall know where to find you if I want you. If your Buona is dead you shall be punished."

And swinging into the branches of the lower terrace Tarzan disappeared from sight of the unhappy blacks in the direction of the Wiramazzi, while in Kima, screaming shrilly, raced through the trees to overtake him. From his conversation with the deserting members of Van Harbin's safari, Tarzan was convinced that the young man had been traitorously abandoned, and that, in all likelihood, he was making his way alone back upon the trail of the deserters.

Not knowing Eric von Harbin, Tarzan could not have guessed that the young man would push on alone into the unknown and forbidding depths of the Wyrimwasi, but assumed on the contrary that he would adopt the more prudent alternative and seek to overtake his men as rapidly as possible. Believing this, the ape-man followed back along the trail of the blacks, expecting momentarily to meet von Harbin. This plan greatly reduced his speed,

but even so, he traveled with so much greater rapidity than the blacks that he came to the slopes of the Wormozy upon the third day after he had interviewed the remnants of Van Harbin's safari. It was with great difficulty that he finally located the point at which Van Harbin had been abandoned by his men, as a heavy rain and windstorm had obliterated the trail, but at last he stumbled upon the tent, which had blown down, but nowhere could he see any signs of Von Harbin's trail. Not having come upon any signs of the white man in the jungle, or any indication that he had followed his fleeing safari.

Tarzan was forced to the conclusion that if Van Harbin was not indeed dead, he must have faced the dangers of the unknown alone, and now be either dead or alive somewhere within the mysterious fastnesses of the Wiramwasi. Nkima, said the ape-man, the Tarmangani have a saying that, when it is futile to search for a thing, it is like hunting for a needle in a haystack. Do you believe in Kima that in this great mountain range we shall find our needle?

Let us go home, said Enkima, where it is warm. Here the wind blows, and up there it is colder. It is no place for Little Manu the monkey. Nevertheless, Enkima, there is where we are going. The monkey looked up toward the frowning heights above. Little Enkima is afraid, he said. It is in such places. that sheet out the panther lairs. Ascending diagonally, and in a westerly direction in the hope of crossing von Harbin's trail,

Tarzan moved constantly in the opposite direction from that taken by the man he sought. It was his intention, however, when he reached the summits, if he had in the meantime, found no trace of von Harbin, to turn directly eastward and search at a higher altitude in the opposite direction. As he proceeded, the slope became steeper and more rugged,

Until, at one point, near the western end of the mountain mass, he encountered an almost perpendicular barrier high up on the mountainside, along the base of which he picked his precarious way among loose boulders that had fallen from above. Underbrush and stunted trees extended at different points from the forest below, quite up to the base of the vertical escarpment. So engrossed was the eight men in the dangerous business of picking his way along the mountainside, that he gave little heed to anything beyond the necessities of the trail and his constant search for the spoor of von Harbin. And so he did not see the little group of black warriors that were gazing up at him from the shelter of a clump of trees far down

the slope. Nor did Enkima, usually as alert as his master, have eyes or ears for anything beyond the immediate exigencies of the trail. Enkima was unhappy. The wind blew, and Enkima did not like the wind. All about him he smelled the spore of Shida the panther, while he considered the paucity and stunted nature of the few trees along the way that his master had chosen. From time to time he noted, with sinking heart, ledges just above them from which Shida might spring down upon them, and the way was a way of terror for little enkima. Now they had come to a particularly precarious point upon the mountainside. A sheer cliff rose above them. them on the right, and at their left the mountainside fell away so steeply that as Tarzan advanced,

his body was pressed closely against the granite face of the cliff as he sought a foothold upon the ledge of loose rubble. Just ahead of them the cliff shouldered out boldly against the distant skies. Perhaps beyond that clear-cut corner the going might be better. If it should develop that it was worse, Tarzan realized that he must turn back. At the turn where the footing was narrowest, a stone gave beneath Tarzan's foot, throwing him off his balance for an instant. And at that same instant, Nkima, thinking that Tarzan was falling, shrieked and leapt from his shoulder, giving the ape-man's body just the impetus that was required to overbalance it entirely. The mountside below was steep, though not perpendicular. And if Nkima had not pushed the ape-man

outward, he doubtless would have slid but a short distance before being able to stay his fall. But as it was, he lunged head foremost down the embankment, rolling and tumbling for a short distance over the loose rock, until his body was brought to a stop by one of the many stunted trees that clung tenaciously to the wind-swept slope. Terrified, Nkima scampered to his master's side. He screamed and shattered in his ear and pulled and tugged upon him in an effort to raise him. But the ape-man lay motionless, a tiny stream of blood trickling from a cut on his temple into

with shock of black hair. As in Chima mourned, the black warriors, who have been watching them from below, clambered quickly up the mountainside toward him and his helpless master. End of Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Of Tarzan and the Lost Empire

by Edgar Rice Burroughs. This Liberovox recording is in the public domain. Tarzan and the Lost Empire. Chapter 4 As Eric von Harbin turned to face the thing that he heard approaching behind him, he saw a negro armed with a rifle coming toward him. "'Gabula!' exclaimed the white man, lowering his weapon. "'What are you doing here?'

"'Bana,' said the Black, "'I could not desert you. I could not leave you to die alone at the hands of the spirits that dwell upon these mountains.' Van Harbin eyed the Negro incredulously. "'But if you believe that, Gabula, are you not to die alone? afraid that they will kill you too? I expect to die, Buanna, replied Gabula. I cannot understand why you will not kill the first night or the second night.

We shall both surely be killed tonight. And yet you followed me. Why? You have been kind to me, Buanna, replied the Black. Your father has been kind to me. When the others talked, they filled me with fear, and when they run away, I went with them, but I have come back. There was nothing else that I could do, was there?

No, Gabula. For you or for me, there would have been nothing else to do as we see such things, but as the others saw them, they found another thing to do, and they did it. Gabura is not as the others, said the black proudly. Gabula is a butto-o. Gabula is a brave warrior, said Van Harbin. I do not believe in spirits, and so there was no reason why I should be afraid. But you and all your people do believe in them. And so it was a very brave thing for you

to come back, but I shall not hold you. You may return, Gabula, with the others. "'Yes?' Gabula exclaimed eagerly. "'The Buona is going back. That would be good. Kaboud will go back with him.' "'No, I am going down into that canyon,' said Van Harbin, pointing over the rim. Kabula looked down, surprise and wonder reflected by his wide eyes and parted lips. But, Bona, even if a human being could find a way down these steep cliffs, where there is no place for either hand or foot, he would surely be killed the moment he reached the bottom, for this indeed must be the land of the lost tribe, where the spirits of the dead live in the heart of the Wiramazi.

You do not have to come with me, Gabula, said Van Harbin. Go back to your people. "'How are you going to get down there?' demanded the black. "'I do not know just how, or where, or when. "'Now I am going to descend as far long this fissure as I can go. "'Perhaps I shall find my way down here, perhaps not.' "'But suppose there is no foothold beyond the fissure?' asked Gabula. "'I shall have to find footing.'

"'Gabula shook his head. "'And if you reach the bottom, Buona, you are right about the spirits and there are none, Or they do not kill you. How will you get out again?' Van Harbin shrugged his shoulders and smiled. Then he extended his hand. "'Good-bye, Gabula,' he said. "'You are a brave man.' Kabula did not take the offered hand of his master. "'I am going with you,' he said simply.

"'Even though you realize that should we reach the bottom alive, we may never be able to return?' "'Yes.' "'I cannot understand you, Gabula.' "'You are afraid, and I know that you wish to return to the village of your people. "'Then why do you insist on coming with me when I give you leave to return home?' "'I have sworn to serve you, Buona, and I am a Batoro,' replied Gabula. "'And I can only thank the Lord that you are a Batoro,' said Van Herban. "'For the Lord knows that I shall need help before I reach the bottom of this canyon,

and we must reach it, Gabula, unless we are content to die by starvation.' "'I have brought food,' said Gabula. "'I knew that you might be hungry, and I brought some of the food that you like.' And unrolling the small pack that he carried, he displayed several bars of chocolate and a few packages of concentrated food that von Harbin had included among his supplies in the event of an emergency. To the famished von Harbin, the food was like manna to the Israelites, and he lost no time in taking advantage of Gabula's thoughtfulness.

The sharp edge of his hunger removed, Van Harbin experienced a feeling of renewed strength and hopefulness, and it was with a light heart and aboyant optimism that he commenced the descent into the canyon. Kabula's ancestry, stretching back through countless generations of jungle-dwelling people, left him appalled as he contemplated the frightful abyss into which his master was leading him. But so deeply had he involved himself by his protestations of loyalty and tribal pride, that he followed von Harbin with no outward show of the real terror that was consuming him. The descent through the fissure was less difficult than it had appeared from above. The tumbled rocks that had partially filled it gave more than sufficient footing,

and in only a few places was assistance required, and it was at these times that von Harbin realized how fortunate for him had been Gabula's return. When at last they reached the bottom of the cleft, they found themselves at its outer opening, flush with the face of the cliff, and several hundred feet below the rim. This was the point beyond which Van Harbin had been unable to see, and which he had been approaching with deep anxiety, since there was every likelihood that the conditions here might put a period to their further descent along this route. Creeping over the loose rubble in the bottom of the fissure to its outer edge, von

Harbin discovered a sheer drop of a hundred feet to the level of the next year. next terrace, and his heart sank. To return the way they had come, was, he feared, a feet beyond their strength and ingenuity, for there had been places down which one had lowered the other only with the greatest difficulty, which would be practically unscalable on the return journey. It being impossible to ascend, and as starvation surely faced them where they were, there was but one alternative. Van Harbin lay upon his belly, his eyes at the outer edge of the the fissure, and instructing Gabula to hold tightly to his ankles, he wormed himself forward until he could scan the entire face of the cliff below him to the level of the next terrace.

A few feet from the level on which he lay, he saw that the fissure lay open again to the base of the cliff, its stoppage at the point where they were, having been caused by a large fragment of rock that had wedged securely between the sides of the fissure, entirely choking it at this point. The fissure, which had narrowed considerably since they had entered it at the summit, was not more than two or three feet wide directly beneath the rock on which he lay, and extended with little variation at this width the remaining hundred feet to the comparatively level ground below. If he and Kabula could but get into this crevice, he knew that they could easily brace themselves against its sides in such a way as to descend safely the remaining distance.

but how with the means at hand were they to climb over the edge of the rock that blocked the fissure and crawl back into the fissure again several feet farther down? Van Harbin lowered his crude Alpenstock over the edge of the rock fragment. When he extended his arms at full length, the tip of the rod fell considerably below the bottom of the rock in which he lay. A man hanging at the end of the Alpenstock might conceivably swing into the fissure, but it would necessitate a feat of acrobatic. far beyond the powers of either himself or Gabula. A rope would have solved their problem,

but they had no rope. With a sigh, Von Harbin drew back when his examination of the Fisher convinced him that he must find another way, but he was totally at a loss to imagine in what direction to look for a solution. Gabula crouched back in the Fisher, terrified by the anticipation of what Van Harbin's

attempted exploration had suggested. The very thought of even looking out over the edge of that rock beyond the face of the cliff left Gabula cold and half paralyzed, while the thought that he might have to follow Van Harbin bodily over the edge threw the negro into a fit of trembling. Yet had von Harbin gone over the edge, Gabula would have followed him. The white man sat for a long time, buried in thought. Time and again his eyes examined every detail of the formation of the fissure within the range of his vision. Again and again they returned to the huge fragment upon which they sat,

which was securely wedged between the Fisher's sides. With this out of the way, he felt that they could make unimpeded progress to the next terrace, but he knew that nothing short of a charge of dynamite could budge the heavy granite slab. Directly behind it were loose fragments of various sizes, and as his eyes returned to them once again, he was struck by the possibility that they suggested. "'Come, Gabula,' he said. "'Help me throw out some of these rocks. This seems to be our only possible hope of escaping from the trap that I have got us into.'

"'Yes, Buena,' replied Gabula, and fell to work beside Van Harbin, though he could not understand why they should be picking up these stones, some of which were very heavy, and pushing them out over the edge of the flat fragment that clogged the fissure. He heard them crash heavily where they struck the rocks below, and this interested and fascinated him to such an extent that he worked feverishly to loosen the larger blocks of stone for the added pleasure he derived from hearing the loud noise that they made when they struck. It begins to look, said Van Harbin after a few minutes, as though we may be going to succeed.

Unless, by removing these rocks here, we cause some of those above to slide down and thus loosen the whole mass above us, in which event, Gabbura, the mystery of the lost tribe was ceased to interest us longer. "'Yes, Buona,' said Gabula, and lifting an unusually large rock, he started to roll it toward the edge of the fissure. "'Look! Look, Buona!' he exclaimed, pointing at the place where the rock had lain. Van Harbin looked, and saw an opening about the size of a man's head extending into the

fissure beneath them. "'Thank Nassini the grasshopper, Gabula,' cried the white men, if that is the totem of your clan, for here indeed is a way to salvation." Hurriedly, the two men set to work to enlarge the hole by throwing out other fragments that had long been wedged in together to close the fissure at this point, and as the fragments clattered down upon the rocks below, a tall, straight warrior standing in the bow of a dugout upon the marshy lake far below looked up and called the attention of his comrades.

They could plainly hear the reverberations of the falling fragments as they struck the rocks at the foot of the fisher, and keen-eyed they could see many of the larger pieces that von Harbin and Gabula tossed downward. "'The great wall is falling,' said the Black Warrior. "'A few pebbles,' said another. "'It is nothing.' "'Such things do not happen except after rains,' said the first speaker. "'It is thus that it is prophesied that the Great Wall will fall.'

"'Perhaps it is a demon who lives in the Great Rift in the Wall,' said another, "'Let us hasten and tell the masters.' "'Let us wait and watch,' said the first speaker, "'until we have something to tell them. "'If we went and told them that a few rocks had fallen from the great wall, "'they would only laugh at us.' "'Van Harbin and Gabula had increased the size of the opening "'until it was large enough to permit the passage of a man's body.

"'Through it the white man could see the rough sides of the fisher "'extending to the level of the next terrace, and knew that the next stage of the descent was already as good as an accomplished fact. "'We shall descend one at a time, Gabula,' said Van Harbin. "'I shall go first, for I am accustomed to this sort of climbing. Watch carefully, so that you may descend exactly as I do. It is easy, and there is no danger. Be sure that you keep your back braced against one wall and your feet against the other.

We shall lose some hide in the descent, for the walls are rough, but we shall get down safely enough if we take it slowly. "'Yes, Buona, you go first,' said Gabula. "'If I see you do it, then perhaps I can do it.' Van Harbin lowered himself through the aperture, braced himself securely against the opposite walls of the fissure, and started slowly downward. A few minutes later, Gubula saw his master standing safely at the bottom,

and though his heart was in his mouth, the black followed without hesitation. but when he stood at last beside Van Harbin, he breathed such a loud sigh of relief that von Harbin was forced to laugh aloud. "'It is the demon himself,' said the Black Warrior in the dugout, as Van Harbin had stepped from the fissure. From where the dugout of the watchers floated, half concealed by lofty papyrus, the terrace at the base of the fissure was just visible.

They saw Van Harbin emerge, and a few moments later the figure of Gabula. "'Now, indeed,' said one of the blacks, "'we should hasten and tell the masters.' "'No,' said the first speaker. "'Those two may be demons, "'but they look like men, "'and we shall wait until we know what they are "'and why they are here before we go away.'

"'For a thousand feet the descent from the base of the fissure "'was far from difficult, "'a rough slope leading in an easterly direction "'down toward the canyon bottom. "'During the descent, "'their view of the lake and of the canyon, was often completely shut off by masses of weather-worn granite around which they sometimes had difficulty in finding a way.

As a rule, the easiest descent lay between these towering fragments of the main body of the cliff, and at such times as the valley was hidden from them, so were they hidden from the watchers on the lake. A third of the way down the escarpment, von Harbin came to the verge of a narrow gorge, the bottom of which was densely banked with green, the foliage of trees growing luxuriantly, pointing unquestionably to the presence of water in abundance.

Leading the way, von Harbin descended into the gorge, at the bottom of which he found a spring from which a little stream trickled downward. Here they quenched their thirst and rested. Then, following the stream downward, they discovered no obstacles that might not be easily surmounted. For a long time, hemmed in by the walls of the narrow gorge, and their very few, view further circumscribed by the forest-like growth along the banks of the stream, they had no sight of the lake or the canyon bottom. But finally, when the gorge debouched upon the lower slopes, von Harbin halted in admiration of the landscape spread out before him. Directly below, another stream entered that along which they had descended, forming a little river that dropped steeply to what

appeared to be vivid green meadowland, the which it wound tortuously to the great swamp that extended out across the valley for perhaps ten miles. So choked was the lake with some feathery-tipped aquatic plant that von Harbin could only guess as to its extent, since the green of the water plant and the green of the surrounding meadows blended into one another, but here and there he saw signs of open water, that appeared like winding lanes or passages leading in all directions throughout the marsh. As von Harbin and Gabula stood looking out across this to them, and mysterious world. The black warriors in the dugout watched them attentively. The strangers

were still so far away that the blacks were unable to identify them, but their leader assured them that these two were no demons. "'How do you know that they are not demons?' demanded one of these fellows. "'I can see that they are men,' replied the other. "'Demons are very wise and very powerful,' insisted the doubter. "'They may take any form they choose. They might come as birds, or animals, or men. "'They are not fools,' snapped the leader. "'If a demon wished to descend the Great Wall, he would not choose the hardest way.

He would take the form of a bird and fly down.' The other scratched his head in perplexity, for he realized that here was an argument that would be difficult to controvert. For want of anything better to say, he suggested that they go at once and report the matter to their masters. The first few steps that von Harbin took on to the grass, Meadowland revealed the fact that it was a dangerous swamp from which only with the greatest

difficulty were they able to extricate themselves. Floundering back to solid ground, Van Harbin reconnoitered in search of some other avenue to more solid ground on the floor of the canyon, but he found that upon both sides of the river the swamp extended to the foot of the lowest terrace of the cliff, and low as these were in comparison to their lofty fellows towering far above them, they were still impassable barriers. Possibly by reascending the gorge, he might find an avenue to more solid ground toward the west, but as he had no actual assurance of this, and as both he and Gubula were well-nigh exhausted from the physical strain of the descent, he preferred to find an easier way to the lake shore

if it were possible. He saw that while the river at this point was not swift, the current was rapid enough to suggest that the bottom might be sufficiently free from mud to make it possible for them to utilize it as an avenue to the lake, if it were not too deep. To test the feasibility of the idea, he lowered himself into the water, holding to one end of his alpenstock while Gubula seized the other. He found that the water came to his waistline, and that the bottom was firm and solid. "'Come on, Gubula. This is our way to the lake, I guess,' he said to the black. As Gubula slipped into the water behind his master, The dugout containing the Black Warriors

pushed silently along the watery lane among the papyrus, and with silent paddles was urged swiftly toward the mouth of a stream where it emptied into the lake. As von Harbin and Gabula descended the stream, they found that the depth of the water did not greatly increase. Once or twice they stumbled into deeper holes and were forced to swim,

but in other places the water shallowed until it was only to their knees. And thus they made their way to their way, down to the lake, at the verge of which their view was shut off by clumps of papyrus, rising twelve or fifteen feet above the surface of the water. "'It begins to look,' said Van Harbin, "'as though there is no solid ground along the shoreline, but the roots of the papyrus will hold us,

and if we can make our way to the west end of the lake, I am sure that we shall find solid ground, for I am positive that I saw higher land there as we were descending the cliff.' Feeling their way cautiously along, They came at last to the first clump of papyrus, and just as von Harbin was about to clamber to the solid footing of the roots, a canoe shot from behind the mass of floating plants, and the two men found themselves covered by the weapons of a boatload of Ebon warriors.

End of Chapter 4. Chapter 5 of Tarzan and the Lost Empire by Edgar Rice Burroughs. This Libervox recording is in the public domain. Tarzan and the Lost Empire Chapter 5 Lucchiti, the Big Eagle, carried a gourd of milk to a hut in the village of his people on the lower slopes at the west end of the Wiramwasi range.

Two stalwart spearmen stood guard at the doorway of the hut. Niotto has sent me with milk for the prisoner, said Lucidi. Has his spirit returned to him? Go in and see, directed one of the sentries. Lukiti entered the hut, and in the dim light saw the figure of a giant white man sitting upon the dirt floor gazing at him. The man's wrists were bound together behind his back, and his ankles were secured with tough fiber strands. "'Here is food,' said Lukiti, setting the gourd upon the ground near the prisoner.

"'How can I eat with my hands tied behind my back?' demanded Tarzan. "'Lukiti scratched his head. "'I do not know,' he said. "'Nuto sent me with the food. He did not tell me to free your hands.' "'Cut the bond,' said Tarzan. "'Otherwise, I cannot eat.' "'One of the spearmen entered the hut. "'What is he saying?' he demanded. "'He says he cannot eat unless his hands are freed,' said Lukiti.

"'Did Nuto tell you to free his hands?' asked the spearman. "'No,' said the Lukiti. "'The spearman shrugged his shoulders. "'Leave the food then. That was all you asked to do." Lukiti turned to leave the hut. "'Wait,' said Tarzan. "'Who is Nuto?'

"'He is the chief of the Begigos,' said Lukiti. "'Go to him and tell him that I wish to see him. Tell him also that I cannot eat with my hands tied behind my back.' Lucidi was gone for half an hour. When he returned, he brought an old rusted slave chain and an ancient padlock. "'Nuto says that we may chain him to the center pole "'and then cut the bonds that secure his hands,' he said to the guard. "'The three men entered the hut where Likini passed one end of the chain

"'around the center pole, pulling it through a ring on the other end. "'The free end he then passed around Tarzan's neck, "'securing it there with the old slave padlock. "'Cut the bonds that hold his wrists,' said Lukiti to one of the spearmen. "'Do it yourself.' retorted the warrior. Niotto sent you to do it. He did not tell me to cut the bonds.

Lukidi hesitated. It was apparent that he was afraid. We will stand ready with our spears, said the guardsman. Then he cannot harm you. I shall not harm him, said Tarzan. Who are you anyway? And who do you think I am? One of the guardsmen laughed.

He asked who we are as though he did not. But no! We know who you are, all right, said the other warrior. I am Tarzan of the apes, said the prisoner, and I have no quarrel with the Baguigos. The guardsmen, who at last spoken, laughed again derisively. That may be your name, he said. You men of the lost tribe have strange names. Perhaps you have no quarrel with the Bagheigos, but the Baguigos have a quarrel with you.

And still laughing, he left the hut, followed. by his companion, but the youth Lukiti remained, apparently fascinated by the prisoner at whom he stood staring as he might have stared at a deity. Tarzan reached for the gourd and drank the milk had contained, and never once did Lukiti take his eyes from him. "'What is your name?' asked Tarzan. "'Lukiti,' replied the youth. "'And you have never heard of Tarzan of the apes?' "'No,' replied the youth. "'Who do you think of you?'

I think I am," demanded the ape-man. "'We know that you belong to the lost tribe.' "'But I thought the members of the lost tribe were supposed to be spirits of the dead,' said Tarzan. "'That we do not know,' replied Lucchity. "'Some think one way, some another. But you know, for you are one of them.' "'I am not one of them,' said Tarzan.

"'I come from a country farther south, but I have heard of the big egos, and I have heard of the lost tribe. I do not believe you, said Lukiti. I speak the truth, said Tarzan. Lukiti scratched his head. Perhaps you do, he said. You do not wear clothes like the members of the lost tribe, and the weapons that we found with you are different.

You have seen members of the lost tribe? asked Tarzan. Many times, replied Lukiti. Once a year they come out of the bows of the Wiramazi and trade with us. They bring dried fish, snails, and iron, and take in exchange, salt, goats and cows. If they come and trade with you peacefully, why do you take me a prisoner if you think I am one of them? demanded Tarzan.

Since the beginning we have been at war with the members of the lost tribe, replied Lucchiti. It is true that once a year we trade with them, but they are always our enemies. Why is that? demanded the ape-man. because at other times we cannot tell when they will come with many warriors and capture men, women, and children whom they take away with them into the Wiramazi. None ever returns. We do not know what becomes of them. Perhaps they are eaten.

What will your chief Nuto do with me? asked Tarzan. I do not know, said Lukiri. They are discussing the question now. They all wish to put you to death, but there are some who believe that this would arouse the anger of the ghosts of all the dead bagheegos. Why should the ghost of your dead wish to protect me? to manned Tarzan. There are many who think that you members of the lost tribe are the ghosts of our dead,

replied Lucidi. What do you think, Lucchiti? Asked the ape-man. When I look at you, I think that you are a man of flesh and blood the same as I, and so I think that perhaps you are telling me the truth when you say that you are not a member of the lost tribe, because I am sure that they are all ghosts. But when they come to trade with you, and when they come to fight with you,

can you not tell whether they are flesh and blood or not? They are very powerful, said Lukiti. They might come in the form of men in the flesh, or they might come as snakes or lions. That is why we are not sure. And what do you think the council will decide to do with me? asked Tarzan. I think that there is no doubt but that they will burn you alive,

for thus both you and your spirit will be destroyed, so that it cannot come back to haunt and annoy us. Have you seen or heard of another white man recently? asked Tarzan. No, replied the youth. Many years ago, before I can remember, two white men came who said that they were not members of the lost tribe, but we did not believe them, and they were killed.

I must go now. I shall bring you more milk tomorrow. After Lukitie had left, Tarzan commenced, examining the chain, padlock, and the center pole of the hut in an effort to discover some means of escape. The hut was cylindrical and surmounted by a conical roof of grass. The sidewalls were of stakes set upright a few inches in the ground and fastened together at their tops and bottoms by creepers. The center pole was much heavier and was secured in position by rafters radiating from it to the top of the wall. The interior of the hut was plastered with mud, which had

been thrown on with force and then smooth with the palm of the hand. It was a common type with which Tarzan was familiar. He knew that there was a possibility that he might be able to raise the center pole and withdraw the chain from beneath it. It would, of course, be difficult to accomplish this without attracting the attention of the guards, and there was a possibility that the center pole might be set sufficiently far in the ground to render it impossible for him to raise it. If he were given time, he could excavate around the base of it, but inasmuch as one or the other of the sentries was continually poking his head into the hut to see that all was well, Tarzan saw little likelihood of his being able to free himself without being discovered.

As darkness settled upon the village, Tarzan stretched himself upon the hard dirt floor of the hut and sought to sleep. For some time the noises of the village kept him awake, but at last he slept. How long thereafter it was that he was awakened he did not know. From childhood he had shared with the beasts, among whom he had been raised, the ability to awaken quickly and in full command of all his faculties. He did so now, immediately conscious that the noise that had aroused him came from an animal upon the roof of the hut. Whatever it was, it was working quietly, but to what end the ape-man could not imagine.

The awkward fumes of the village Cookfire so filled the air that Tarzan was unable to catch the scent of the creature upon the roof. He carefully reviewed all the possible purposes for which an animal might be upon the thatched dry grass roof of the Big Eagle Hut, and through a process of elimination he could reach but one conclusion. That was that the thing upon the outside wished to come in, and either it did not have brains enough to know that there was a doorway, or else it was too cunning to risk detection by attempting to pass the centuries. But why should any animal wish to enter the hut? Tarzan lay upon his back, gazing up through the darkness in the direction of the roof above him

as he tried to find an answer to his question. Presently, directly above his head, he saw a little ray of moonlight. Whatever it was upon the roof had made an opening that grew larger and larger as the creature quietly tore away the thatching. The aperture was being made close to the wall where the radiating rafters were farthest apart. But whether this was through intent or accident, Tarzan could not guess. As the hole grew larger, and he caught occasional glimpses of the thing silhouetted against the moonlit sky, a broad smile illuminated the face of the ape-man.

Now he saw strong little fingers working at the twigs that were fastened laterally across the rafters to support the thatch. And presently, after several of these had been removed, the opening was entirely closed by a furry little body that wriggled through and dropped to the floor close beside the prisoner. "'How did you find me, Enkima?' whispered Tarzan. "'Inchema followed,' replied the little monkey. "'All day he has been sitting in a high tree above the village, watching this place and waiting for darkness. "'Why do you stay here, Tarzan of the apes? "'Why do you not come away with little Enkima?'

"'I am fastened here with a chain,' said Tarzan. I cannot come away." Enkima will go and bring Muviro and his warriors, said Inkima. Of course he did not use these words at all, but what he said in the language of the apes conveyed the same meaning to Tarzan. Black apes carrying sharp, long sticks, was the expression that he used to describe the Waziri warriors, and the name for Muviro was one of his own coining. But he and Tarzan understood one another.

No, said Tarzan. If I am going to need Muviro, he could not get here in time now to be of any help to me. Go back into the forest Enkima and wait for me. Perhaps I shall join you very soon.' Enkima scolded, for he did not want to go away. He was afraid alone in this strange forest. In fact, Enkima's life had been one long complex of terror, relieved only by those occasions when he could snuggle in the lap of his master,

safe within the solid walls of Tarzan's bungalow. One of the sentries heard the voices within the hut and crawled partway in. "'There,' said Tarzan to Enkima, "'you see what you have done? Now you had better do as Tarzan tells you and get out of here and into the forest before they catch you and eat you.' "'Who are you talking to?' demanded the sentry. He heard a scampering in the darkness, and at the same instant he caught sight of the hole in the roof and almost simultaneously he saw something dark go through it and

disappear. What was that? He demanded nervously. That, said Tarzan, was the ghost of your grandfather. He came to tell me that you and your wives and all your children will take sick and die if anything happens to me. He also brought the same message for Neutotau. The sentry trembled.

Caught him back, he begged, and tell him that I had nothing to do with it. It is not I, but Nuto, the chief, who is going to kill you. "'I cannot call him back,' said Tarzan. "'And so you had better tell Nuto not to kill me.' "'I cannot see Nuto until morning,' wailed the black. "'Perhaps then it will be too late.' "'No,' said Tarzan. "'The ghost of your grandfather will not do anything until tomorrow.'

Terrified, the sentry returned to his post, where Tarzan heard him fearfully and excitedly discussing the matter with his companion, until the ape-man finally dropped off to sleep again. It was late the following morning before anyone entered the hut in which Tarzan was confined. Then came Lucidi with another gourd of milk. He was very much excited. "'Is what Ogano says true?' he demanded.

"'Who is O'Gano?' asked Tarzan. "'He was one of the warriors who stood guard here last night, and he has told Nuto and all the village that he heard the ghost of his grandfather talking with you, and that the ghost said that he would kill everyone in the village if you were harmed, and now everyone is afraid. And Nuto? asked Tarzan. Nuto is not afraid of anything, said Lukidi.

Not even of ghosts of grandfathers? asked Tarzan. No, he alone of all the big egos is not afraid of the men of the lost tribe, and now he is very angry at you, because you have frightened his people, and this evening you are to be burned. Look. And Lukidi pointed to the low doorway of the hut. From here you can see them placing the stake to which you are to be bound, and the boys are in the forest gathering fagots.

Tarzan pointed toward the hole in the roof. There, he said, is the home made by the ghost of Ogunno's grandfather. Fetched Nuto and let him see. Then perhaps he will believe. It will make no difference, said Lucidi. If he saw a thousand ghosts with his own eyes, he would not be afraid. He is very brave, but he is also very stubborn and a fool. Now we shall all die.

Unquestionably, said Tarzan. Can you not save me? asked Lucidi. If you will help me to escape, I promise you that the ghost shall not harm you. Oh, if I could but... "'But do it,' said Lukiti as it passed the gourd of milk to the ape-man. "'You bring me nothing but milk,' said Tarzan. "'Why is that?' "'In this village we belong to the Beliso clan,

and therefore we may not drink the milk nor eat the flesh of timber, the black cow, so when we have guests or prisoners, we save this food for them.' Tarzan was glad that the totem of the Beliso clan was a cow instead of a grasshopper, or rainwater from the roofs of houses, or one of the hundred of other objects that are venerated by different clans. For while Tarzan's early training had not placed grasshoppers beyond the pale as food for men, he much preferred the milk of Timba. "'I wish that Nuto would see me and talk with me,' said Tarzan of the apes. Then he would know that it would be better to have me for a friend than for an enemy.

Many men have tried to kill me, many chiefs greater than Newto. This is not the first hut in which I have lain a prisoner, nor is it the first time that black men have prepared fires to receive me. Yet I still live, Lukiti, and many of them are dead. Go, therefore, to Niotto, and advise him to treat me as a friend, for I am not from the lost tribe of the Wiramwasi. I believe you, said Lukiti, and I shall go and beg your. Nuto to Himmi, but I am afraid that he will not.

As the youth reached the doorway of the hut, there suddenly arose a great commotion in the village. Tarzan heard men issuing orders. He heard children crying and the pounding of many naked feet upon the hard ground. Then the war drums boomed, and he heard clashing of weapons upon shields and loud shouting. He saw the guards before the doorway spring to their feet and run to join the other warriors, and then Lukidi, at the doorway, shrank back with a cry of terror. They come, they come, he cried, and ran to the far side of the hut where he crouched in terror. End of Chapter 5.

Chapter 6. Of Tarzan and the Lost Empire by Edgar Rice Burroughs. This Libervox recording is in the public domain. Tarzan and the Lost Empire. Chapter 6 Eric von Harbin looked into the faces of the tall, almost naked black warriors, whose weapons menaced him across the gunwale of their low dugout,

and the first thing to attract his attention was the nature of those weapons. Their spears were unlike any that he had ever seen in the hands of modern savages. Corresponding with the ordinary spear of the African savage, they carried a heavy and formidable javelin that suggested to the mind of the young archaeologist nothing other than the ancient Roman pike, and this similarity was further confirmed by the appearance of the short, broad, two-edged swords that dangled and scabbards supported by straps passing over the left shoulders of the warriors. If this weapon was not the gladius Hispanists of the Imperial Legionary,

von Harbin felt that his studies and researches had been for naught. Ask them what they want, Kabula, he directed. Perhaps they would understand you. Who are you, and what do you want of us? demanded Gabula in the Bantu dialect of his tribe. "'We wish to be friends,' added Van Harbin in the same dialect. "'We have come to visit your country. Take us to your chief.' A tall black in the stern of the dugout shook his head.

"'I do not understand you,' he said. "'You are our prisoners. We are going to take you with us to our masters. Come, get into the boat. If you resist or make trouble, we shall kill you.' They speak a strange language, said Gabula. I do not understand them. Surprise and incredulity were reflected in the expression on von Harbin's face, and he experienced such a sensation as one might, who looked upon a man suddenly resurrected after having been dead for nearly two thousand years.

Von Harbin had been a close student of ancient Rome and its long-dead language. But how different was the living tongue, which he heard and which he heard, and which he recognized for what it was, from the dead and musty pages of ancient manuscripts. He understood enough of what the black had said to get his meaning, but he recognized the tongue as a hybrid of Latin and Bantu root words, though the inflections appeared to be uniformly those of the Latin language. In his student days, Van Harbin had often imagined himself a citizen of Rome.

He had delivered orations in the forum, and had addressed his troops in the field in Africa and in Gaul. But how different it all seemed now when he was faced with the actuality rather than the figment of imagination. His voice sounded strange in his own ears, and his words came haltingly as he spoke to the tall black in the language of the Caesars.

"'We are not enemies,' he said. "'We have come as friends to visit your country.' And then he waited, scarce believing that the man could understand him. "'Are you a citizen of Rome?' demanded the Black. "'No, but my country is at peace with Rome,' replied von Harbin. The Black looked puzzled as though he did not understand the reply.

"'You are from Castra Sanguinarius.' His words carried the suggestion of a challenge. "'I am from Germania,' replied von Harbin. "'I never heard of such a country. You are a citizen of Rome from Castrasanguinarius. Take me to your chief, said Van Harbin. That is what I intend to do. Get in here. Our masters will know what to do with you.

Van Harbin and Gabula climbed into the dugout, so awkwardly that they almost overturned it, much to the disgust of the black warriors, who seized hold of them none too gently and forced them to squat in the bottom of the frail craft. This was now turned about and paddle along a winding canal, bordered on either side by tufted papyrus rising ten to fifteen feet above the surface of the water. "'To what tribe do you belong?' asked von Harbin, addressing the leader of the blacks.

"'We are barbarians of the Marri Orientes, subjects of Validas Augustus, Emperor of the East. But why do you ask such questions? You know these things as well as I.' A half-hour of steady paddling along winding water lanes brought them to a collection of beehive huts built upon the floating roots of the papyrus, from which the tall plants have been clear just sufficiently to make room for the half-dozen huts that constituted the village. Here, von Harbin and Gabula became the center of a curious and excited company of men, women, and children, and von Harbin heard himself and Gabula described by their captors as spies from Castra sanguinarius. and learned that on the morrow they were to be taken to Castromare, which he decided must be the village of the mysterious masters to whom his captors were continually eluding. The blacks did not treat him unkindly,

though they evidently considered them as enemies. When they were interviewed by the headman of the village, von Harbin, his curiosity aroused, asked the blacks why they had not been molested if all of his people believed as they seemed to that they were enemies. "'You are a citizen of Rome,' replied the headman. "'And this other is your slave. "'Our masters do not permit us barbarians to injure a citizen of Rome

"'even though he may be from Castrasanguinarius, "'except in self-defence or upon the battlefield in time of war.' "'Who are your masters?' demanded Van Harbin. "'Why, the citizens of Rome who live in Castromaray, of course, "'as one from Castra Sanguerius well knows. "'But I am not from Castra Sangueranerius, Marius, insisted von Harbin. "'You may tell that to the officers of Adidas Augustus,

"'replied the headman. "'Perhaps they will believe you, "'but it is certain that I do not.' "'Are these people who dwell in Castromari black men?' asked Van Harbin. "'Take them away,' ordered the headman, "'and can find them safely in a hut. "'There they may ask one another foolish questions. "'I do not care to listen to them further.'

"'Van Harbin and Gabula were led away by a group of warriors, and conducted into one of the small huts of the village. Here they were brought a supper of fish and snails, and a dish concocted of the cooked pith of papyrus. When morning dawn, the prisoners were again served with food similar to that which they had been given the previous evening, and shortly thereafter they were ordered from the hut. Upon the water lane before the village, floated half a dozen dugouts filled with warriors. Their faces and bodies were painted as for war, and they appeared to have donned all the finery of barbaric necklaces, anklets, bracelets, armbands, and feathers that each could command.

Even the prows of the canoes bore odd designs in fresh colors. There were many more warriors than could have been accommodated in the few huts within the small clearing, but as von Harbin learned later, these came from other clearings, several of which comprised the village. Van Harbin and Gabula were ordered into the chief's canoe, and a moment later the little fleet pushed off into the water lane. Strong paddlers propelled the dugouts along the winding waterway in a northeasterly direction. During the first half-hour, they passed several small clearings in each of which stood a few huts from which the women and children came to the water's edge to watch them as they passed, but for the most part the water lane ran between monotonous walls of

lofty papyrus, broken only occasionally by short stretches of more open water. Von Harbin tried to draw the chief into conversation, especially relative to their destination and the nature of the masters into whose hands they were to be delivered. But the taciturn warrior ignored his every advance, and finally von Harbin lapsed into the silence of resignation. They had been paddling for hours, and the heat and the monotony have become almost undefined. bearable, when a turn in the water lane revealed a small body of open water, across the opposite of which stretched what appeared to be low land surmounted by an earth and rampart, along the top of which was a strong stockade. The course of the canoe was directed toward two lofty towers

that apparently marked the gateway through the rampart. Figures of men could be seen loitering about this gateway, and as they caught sight of the canoes, a trumpet sounded and a score of sallied from the gateway and came down to the water's edge. As the boat drew nearer, Von Harbin saw that these men were soldiers, and at the command of one of them the canoes drew up a hundred yards offshore and waited there while the chief shouted to the soldiers on shore, telling them who he was and the nature of his business. Permission was then given for the chief's canoe to approach, but the others were ordered to remain where they were. Stay where you are, commanded one of the soldiers, evidently an under-officer, as the dugout touched the shore.

I have sent for the Centurion. Van Harbin looked with amazement upon the soldiers drawn up at the landing. They wore the tunics and cloaks of Caesar's legionaries. Upon their feet were the sandalike Caligy. A helmet, a leather cuiris, an ancient shield with pike and Spanish sword, completed the picture of antiquity. Only their skin belied the suggestion of their rube. origin. They were not white men, neither were they Negroes, but for the most part of a light brown

color with regular features. They seemed only mildly curious concerning von Harbin, and on the whole appeared rather bored than otherwise. The under-officer questioned the chief concerning conditions in the village. They were casual questions on subjects of no particular moment, but they indicated to von Harbin a seemingly interested and friendly relationship between the blacks of the outlying villages in the papyrus swamp and the evidently civilized brown people of the mainland. Yet the fact that only one canoe had been permitted to approach the land suggested that other and less pleasant relations had also existed between them at times. Beyond the rampart, von Harbin could see the roofs of buildings and far away beyond these,

the towering cliffs that form the opposite side of the canyon. Presently, two more soldiers emerged from the gateway opposite the landing. One of them was evidently the officer for whom they were waiting, his cloak and cuiris being of finer materials and more elaborately decorated, while the other, who walked a few paces behind him, was a common soldier, probably the messenger who had been dispatched to fetch him. And now another surprise was added to those which von Harbin, had already experienced since he had dropped over the edge of the barrier cliffs into this little

valley of anachronisms. The officer was unquestionably white. "'Who are these, Rufinus?' he demanded of the under-officer. "'A barbarian chief and warriors from the villages of the western shore,' replied Rufinus. "'They bring two prisoners that they captured in the Rupa's flumen. "'As a reward, they wish permission to enter the city and see the emperor.' "'How many are they?' asked the officer. "'S sixty,' replied Rufinus. "'They may enter the city,' said the officer.

"'I will give them a pass, "'but they must leave their weapons in their canoes "'and be out of the city before dark. "'Send two men with them. "'As to their seeing Validas Augustus, "'that I cannot arrange. "'They might go to the palace and ask the prefect there. "'Have the prisoners come ashore.'

As Van Harbin and Gabula stepped from the dugout, the expression upon the officer's face was one of perplexity. "'Who are you?' he demanded. "'My name is Eric von Harbin,' replied the prisoner. The officer jerk his head impatiently. "'There is no such family in Castra Sanguerius,' he retorted. "'I am not from Castra Sanguerius.' "'Not from Castra Sanguerius!' the officer laughed.

"'That is the story he told me,' said the black chief, who have been listening to the conversation. "'I suppose that he will be saying next "'that he is not a citizen of Rome,' said the officer. "'That is just what he does say,' said the chief. "'But wait,' exclaimed the officer excitedly. "'Perhaps you are indeed from Rome herself.' "'No, I am not from Rome,' Van Harbin assured him.

"'Can it be that there are white barbaric barbarians in Africa? exclaimed the officer. Surely your garments are not Roman. Yes, you must be a barbarian, unless, as I suspect, you are not telling me the truth, and you are indeed from Castra Sanguanarius. A spy, perhaps, suggested Rufinus. No, said Van Harbin, I am no spy, nor am I an enemy. And with a smile, I am a barbarian, but a friendly barbarian. "'And who is this man?' asked the officer, indicating Gabula. "'You're a slave?' "'He is my servant, but not a slave.'

"'Come with me,' directed the officer. "'I should like to talk with you. "'I find you interesting, though I do not believe you.' "'Vun Harbin smiled. "'I do not blame you,' he said, "'for even though I see you before me, "'I can scarcely believe that you exist.' "'I do not understand what you want.'

mean, said the officer, but come with me to my quarters. He gave orders that Kabula was to be confined in the guardhouse temporarily, and then he led Van Harbin back to one of the towers that guarded the entrance to the rampart. The gate lay in a vertical plain at right angles to the rampart, with a higher tower at either side, the rampart curving inward at this point to connect with a tower at the inner end of the gate. This made a curved entrance that forced an enemy. attempting to enter, to disclose its right or unprotected side to the defenders upon the rampart, a form of camp fortification that von Harbin knew had been peculiar to the ancient Romans.

The officer's quarters consisted of a single small bare room, directly off a larger room occupied by the members of the guard. It contained a desk, a bench, and a couple of roughly made chairs. Sit down, said the officer, after they had entered, and tell me something about yourself. If you are not from Castra Sanguinarius, from whence do you come? How did you get into our country? And what are you doing here? I am from Germania, replied von Harbin. "'Bah!' exclaimed the officer. "'They are wild and savage barbarians. They do not speak the language of Rome at all,

not even as poorly as you.' "'How recently have you come in contact with German barbarians?' von Harbin asked. Oh, I? Never, of course. But our historians knew them well. And how lately have they written of them? Why, Sanquinarius himself mentions them in the story of his life. Sanguinarius? questioned von Harbin. I do not recall ever having heard of him. Sanguinarius fought against the barbarians of Germania in the 839th year of Rome. That was about 1837 years ago, Van Harbin reminded the officer, and I think you'll have to admit that there may have been much progress in that time.

And why? demanded the other. There have been no changes in this country since the days of Sanguinarius, and he has been dead over 1800 years. It is not likely then that barbarians would change greatly if Roman citizens have not. You say you are from Germainian. Perhaps you were taken to Rome as a captive and got your civilization there, but your apparel is strange. It is not of Rome. It is not of any place of which I have ever heard.

Go on with your story. My father is a medical missionary in Africa, explained Van Harbin. Often, when I have visited him, I heard the story of a lost tribe that was supposed to live in these mountains. The natives told strange stories of a white race living in the depths of the Wiramwasi. They said that the mountains were inhabited by the ghosts of their dead. Briefly, I came to investigate the story. All but one of my men, terrified after we reached the outer slopes of the mountains, deserted me.

That one and I managed to descend to the floor of the canyon. Immediately we were captured and brought here. For a while the other sat in silence thinking. Perhaps you are telling me the truth, he said at last, Your apparel is not that of Casta sanguinarius, and you speak our language with such a peculiar accent, and with so great effort that it is evidently not your mother tongue. I shall have to report your capture to the Emperor, but in the meantime I shall take you to the home of my uncle, Septimus Favonius. If he believes your story, he can help you, as he has great

influence with the Emperor Validus Augustus. "'You are kind,' said Van Harbin, "'and I shall need a friend here "'if the customs of Imperial Rome "'still prevail in your country as you suggest. "'Now that you know so much about me, "'perhaps you will tell me something about yourself.' "'There is little to tell,' said the officer.

"'My name is Malius Lepus. "'I am a centurion in the army of Vilius Augustus. "'Perhaps, if you are familiar with Roman customs, "'you will wonder that a patrician should should be a centurion. But in this matter, as in some others, we have not followed the customs of Rome. Sanguinarius admitted all his centurions to the patrician class, and since then, for over eighteen hundred years, only patricians have been appointed centurions. "'But here is Asper,' exclaimed Malius Lepas, as another officer entered the room.

"'He has come to relieve me, and when he has taken over the gate, you and I shall go at once to the home of my uncle, Septimus Favonius. End of Chapter 6. Chapter 7 of Tarzan and the Lost Empire by Edgar Rice Burroughs. This Liberbox recording is in the public domain. Tarzan and the Lost Empire.

Chapter 7. Tarzan of the Apes looked at Lucchiti in surprise, and then, out through the low doorway of the hut, in an effort to see what it was that had so filled the bread, of the black youth with terror. The little section of the village street, framed by the doorway, showed a milling mass of brown bodies, waving spears, terrified women and children. What could it mean?

At first he thought that Lukiti meant that the big egos were coming for Tarzan, but now he guessed that the big egos were being beset by troubles of their own, and at last he came to the conclusion that some other savage tribe had attacked the village. But whatever the cause of the uproar, it was soon over. He saw the big egos turn and flee in all directions. Strange figures passed before his eyes in pursuit, and for a time there was comparative silence, only a hurrying of feet, an occasional command,

and now and then a scream of terror. Presently three figures burst into the hut, enemy warriors searching the village for fugitives. Lucchiti, trembling, inarticulate, paralyzed by fright, crouched against the far wall. Tarzan sat leaning against the center pole to which he was chained. At sight of him, the leading warrior halted, surprise written upon his face. His fellows joined him, and they stood for a moment an excited conversation, evidently discussing their find. Then one of them addressed Tarzan, but in a tongue that the ape-man could not understand, although he realized that there was something vaguely

and tantalizingly familiar about it. Then one of them discovered Lukiti, and crossing the hut, dragged him to the center of the floor. They spoke again to Tarzan, motioning him toward the door so that he understood that they were ordering him from the hut, but in reply he pointed to the chain about his neck. One of the warriors examined the lock that secured the chain, spoke to his fellows, and then left the hut. He returned very shortly with two rocks, and making Tarzan lie upon the ground, placed the padlock upon one of the rocks, and pounded upon it with the other until it broke. As soon as he was released, Tarzan and Lukiti were ordered from the hut, and when they had come out into the open, the eight-men had an opportunity to examine

his captors more closely. In the center of the village, there were about one hundred light-brown warriors surrounding their Big Eagle prisoners, of whom there were some fifty men, women, and children. The tunics, cuirasses, helmets, and sandals of the raiders, Tarzan knew that he had never seen before, and yet they were as vaguely familiar as was the language spoken by their wearers. The heavy spears and the swords hanging at their right sides were not precisely like any spears or swords that he had ever seen, and yet he had a feeling that they were not entirely unfamiliar objects. The effect of the appearance of these strangers was tantalizing in the extreme. It is not uncommon for us to have experiences that are immediately followed by such a

sensation of familiarity that we could swear we had lived through them before in their minutest detail, and yet we are unable to recall the time or place or any coincident occurrences. It was such a sensation that Tarzan experienced now. He thought that he had seen these men before, that he had heard them talk. He almost felt that at some time he had understood their language, and yet at the same time he knew that he had never seen them. Then a figure approached from the opposite side of the village. A white man garbed similarly to the warriors, but in more resplendent trappings, and of a sudden Tarzan of the apes found the key and the solution of the mystery. for the man who came toward him might have stepped from the pedestal of the statue of Julius Caesar

and the Palazzo de Conservatory in Rome. These were Romans. A thousand years after the fall of Rome, he had been captured by a band of Caesar's legionaries, and now he knew why the language was so vaguely familiar. For Tarzan, in his effort to fit himself for a place in the civilized world into which necessity sometimes commanded him, had studied many things, and among them, Latin, but the reading of Caesar's commentaries and scanning Virgil do not give one a command

of the language. And so Tarzan could neither speak nor understand the spoken words, though the smattering that he had of the language was sufficient to make it sound familiar when he heard others speaking it. Tarzan looked intently at the Caesar-like white man approaching him and at the dusky stalwart legionaries about him. He shook himself. This indeed must be dream, and then he saw Loughkeedee with the other Big Eagle prisoners. He saw the stake that had been set up for his burning, and he knew that as these were realities, so were the strange warriors about him. Each soldier carried a short length of chain, at one end of which was a metal collar and a padlock, and with these they were rapidly chaining the prisoners neck to neck.

While they were thus occupied, the white man, who was evidently an officer, was joined as a by two other whites similarly garbed. The three caught sight of Tarzan and immediately approached and questioned him, but the ape-man shook his head to indicate that he could not understand their language. Then they questioned the soldiers who had discovered him in the hut, and finally the commander of the company issued some instructions relative to the ape-man and turned away. The result was that Tarzan was not chained to the file of black prisoners,

but though he again wore the iron collar, the end of the chain was held by one of the legionaries in whose keeping he had evidently been placed. Tarzan could only believe that his preferential treatment was accorded him because of his color, and the reluctance of the white officers to chain another white with Negroes. As the raiders marched away from the village,

one of the officers and a dozen legionaries marched in advance. These were followed by the long line of prisoners, accompanied by another officer and a small guard. Behind the prisoners, many of whom were compelled to carry the live chickens that were a part of the spoils of the raid, came another contingent of soldiers, hurting the cows and goats and sheep of the villagers, and behind all, a large rearguard comprising the greater part of the legionaries

under the command of the third officer. The march led along the base of the mountains in a northerly direction, and presently, upward diagonally, across the main. the rising slopes at the west end of the Wyramazi range. It chanced that Tarzan's position was at the rear of the line of black prisoners, at the end of which marched Lukiti. "'Who are these people, Lukiti?' asked Tarzan, after the party had settled down to steady progress.

"'These are the ghost people of the Wiramazzi,' replied the young Big Eagle. "'They have come to prevent the killing of their fellow,' said another black, looking at Tarzan. "'I knew Nuto should not have taken him prisoner. "'I knew that harm would come from it. "'It is well for us that the ghost people came before we had slain him.' "'What difference will it make?' said another. "'I would rather have been killed in my own village "'that be taken into the country of the ghost people and killed there.'

"'Perhaps they will not kill us,' suggested Tarzan. "'They will not kill you because you are one of them, but they will kill the Begigos because they did dare to take you prisoner. But they have taken him prisoner too, said Lukiti. Can you see that he is not one of them? He does not even understand their language. The other blacks shook their heads, but they were not convinced. They had made up their minds that Tarzan was one of the ghost people, and they were determined that nothing should alter this conviction.

After two hours of marching, the trail turned sharp. sharply to the right, and entered a narrow and rocky gorge, the entrance to which was so choked with trees and undergrowth that it could not have been visible from any point upon the slopes below. The gorge soon narrowed until its rocky walls could be spanned by a man's outstretched arms. The floor, strewn with jagged bits of granite from the lofty cliffs above, afforded poor and dangerous footing, so that the speed of the column was greatly reduced. As they proceeded, Tarzan realized that, although they were entering more deeply into the mountains, the trend of the gorge was downward rather than upward.

The cliffs on either side rose higher and higher above them, until in places the gloom of night surrounded them, and far above, the stars twinkled in the morning sky. For a long hour they followed the windings of the dismal gorge. The column halted for a minute or two, and immediately after the march was re-reged, presumed, Tarzan saw those directly ahead of him, filing through an arched gateway in the man-made wall of solid masonry that entirely blocked the gorge to a height of at least a hundred feet. Also, when it was the ape-man's turn to pass the portal, he saw that it was guarded by other soldiers similar to those into whose hands he had fallen, and that it was further reinforced

by a great gate of huge hand-hewn timbers that had been swung open to permit the party to pass. Ahead of him, Tarzan saw a well-worn road leading down into a dense forest in which huge live oaks predominated, though interspersed with other varieties of trees, among which he recognized acacias and a variety of plain tree as well as a few cedars. Shortly after passing through the gate, the officer in charge gave the command to halt at a small village of conical huts that was inhabited by blacks not unlike the big egos, but armed with pikes and swords similar to those carried by the legionaries. Preparations were immediately made to camp in the village,

the blacks turning over their huts to the soldiers, quite evidently, judging from the expressions on their faces, with poor grace. The legionaries took possession of whatever they wished, and ordered their hosts about with all the authority and assurance of conquerors. At this village a ration of corn and dried fish was issued to the people, prisoners. They were given no shelter, but were permitted to gather deadwood and build a fire, around which they clustered, still chained neck to neck. Numerous birds, strange to Tarzan, flitted among the branches of the trees overhead, and numerous monkeys chattered and scolded,

but monkeys were no novelty to Tarzan of the apes, who was far more interested in noting the manners and customs of his captors. Presently an acorn fell upon Tarzan. but as acorns might be expected to fall from oak trees, he paid no attention to the occurrence, until a second and third acorn in rapid succession struck him squarely from above, and then he glanced up to see a little monkey perched upon a low branch above him. "'So, Enkima!' he exclaimed. "'How did you get here?' "'I saw them take you from the village of the Gomongani. I followed.'

"'You came through the gorge, Enkima?' Enkima was afraid that the rocks would come together and crush him, said the little monkey. So he climbed to the top and came over the mountains along the edge. Far, far below, he could hear the Tarmangani and the Gomangani walking along the bottom. Away up there the wind blew, and little Enkima was cold, and the spore of Shita the leopard was everywhere, and there were great baboons who chased little Enkima, so that he was glad when he came to the end of the mountain and saw the forest far below. It was a very steep mountain.

Even little Enkima was afraid, but he found the way to the bottom. Enkima had better run home, said Tarzan. This forest is full of strange monkeys. I am not afraid, said Enkima. They are little monkeys, and they are all afraid of Enkima. They are homely little monkeys. They are not so beautiful as Enkima. But Enkima has seen some of the shees looking at him and admiring him.

It is not a bad place for Enkima. What are the strange Tarmangani going to do with Tarzan of the apes? I do not know Enkima, said the ape-man. Then Nkima will go back and fetch Muviro and the Waziri. No, said the ape-man. Wait until I find the Tarmanani for whom we are searching. Then you may go back with a message for Muviro. That night Tarzan and the other prisoners slept upon the hard ground in the open,

And after it was dark, little Enkima came down and snuggled in his master's arms, and there he lay all night, happy to be near the great Tarmangandi he loved. As morning dawned, O'Ganyo, who had been captured with the other big egos, opened his eyes and looked about him. The camp of the soldiers was just stirring. O'Ganyo saw some of the legionaries emerging from the huts that they had commandeered. He saw his fellow prisoners huddled close together. for warmth, and at a little distance from them lay the white man whom he had so recently guarded in the prison hut in the village of Nuto, his chief. As his eyes rested upon the white man,

he saw the head of a little monkey arise from the encircling arms of the sleeper. He saw it cast a glance in the direction of a legionaries emerging from the huts, and then he saw it scamper quickly to a nearby tree and swing quickly into the branches above. Oganio gave a cry of alarm that awakened the prisoners near him. "'What is the matter, O'Gagno?' cried one of them. "'The ghost of my grandfather!' he exclaimed. "'I saw him again. He came out of the mouth of the white man who calls himself Tazan.

He has put a curse upon us because we kept the white man prisoner. Now we are prisoners ourselves, and soon we shall be killed and eaten.' The others nodded their heads solemnly in confirmation. Food similar to that given to them the night before was given to the prisoners, and after they and the legionaries had eaten, the march was resumed in a southerly direction along the dusty road. Until noon they plodded through the dust toward the south, passing through other villages similar to that at which they had camped during the night, and then they turned directly east into a road that joined the main road at this point.

Shortly afterward, Tarzan saw before him, stretching across the road to the right and left as far as he could see through the forest, a lofty rampart surmounted by palisades and battlements. Directly ahead, the roadway swung to the left just inside the outer line of the rampart, and passed through a gateway that was flanked by lofty towers. At the base of the rampart was a wide moat through which a stream of water moved slowly, the moat being spanned by a bridge where the road crossed it. There was a brief halt at the gateway while the officer commanding the company conferred with the commander of the gate,

and then the legionaries and their prisoners filed through, and Tarzan saw stretching before him not a village of native huts, but a city of substantial buildings. Those near the gate were one-story stucco houses, apparently built around an inner courtyard, as he could see the foliage of trees rising high above the roofs. But at a distance down the vista of a long avenue, he saw the outlines of more imposing edifices rising to a greater height.

As they proceeded along the avenue, they saw many people upon the streets and in the doorways of the houses, brown and black people, clothed for the most part in tunics and cloaks, though many of the blacks were almost naked. In the vicinity of the gateway there were a few shops. but as they proceeded along the avenue, these gave way to dwellings that continue for a considerable distance, until they reached a section that seemed to be devoted to shops of a better grade and to public buildings. Here they began to encounter white men, though the proportion of them of the total

population seemed quite small. The people they passed stopped to look at the legionaries and their prisoners, and at intersections little crowds formed and quite a number followed them, but there were mostly small boys. The ape-man could see that he was attracting a great deal of attention, and the people seemed to be commenting and speculating upon him. Some of them called to the legionaries, who answered them good-naturedly, and there was considerable joking and chaffing, probably Tarzan surmised at the expense of the unfortunate prisoners. During the brief passage through the city, Tarzan came to the conclusion that the black inhabitants

were the servants, perhaps slaves, the brown men, the soldiers and shopkeepers, while the whites formed the aristocratic or patrician class. Well within the city, the company turned to the left into another broad avenue, and shortly afterward approached a great circular edifice constructed of hewned granite blocks. Arched apertures flanked by graceful columns rose tier upon tier to a height of 40 or 50 feet. And above the first story, all of these arches were open. Through them, Tarzan could see that the enclosure was without a roof,

and he guessed that this lofty wall enclosed an arena, since it bore a marked resemblance to the Coliseum at Rome. As they came opposite the building, the head of the column turned and entered it beneath a low, wide arch, and here they were lived through numerous corridors in the first story of the building, and down a flight of granite steps into gloomy subterranean chambers, where, opening from a long corridor,

the ends of which were lost in darkness in both directions, were a series of narrow doorways, before which swung heavy iron gates. In parties of four or five the prisoners were unchained, and ordered into the dungeons that lay behind. Tarzan found himself with Lukiti and two other big egos, in a small room constructed entirely of granite blocks, The only openings were the narrow-graded doorway through which they entered, and a small

grated window in the top of the wall opposite the door, and through this window came a little light and air. The grating was closed upon them, the heavy padlocks snapped, and they were left alone to wonder what fate lay in store for them. End of Chapter 7. Chapter 8 Of Tarzan and the Lost Empire by Edgar Rice Burroughs. This Libervox recording is in the public domain.

Tarzan and the Lost Empire Chapter 8 Malius Lepas conducted von Harbin from the quarters of the captain of the gate in the south wall of the island city of Castramari, and summoning a soldier bade him fetch Gabula. You shall come with me as my guest, Eric von Harbin, announced Malius Lepis.

And by Jupiter, unless I am mistaken, Septimus Favonius will thank me for bringing such a find. His dinner's lag for want of novelty, for long since has he exhausted all the possibilities of Castromare. He has even had a black chief from the western forest as his guest of honor, and once he invited the aristocracy of Castromare to meet a great ape. His friends will be mad to meet a barbarian chief from Germania. You are a chief, are you not?

And as Van Harbin was about to reply, Malius Lepa stayed him with a gesture. Never mind. You shall be introduced as a chief, and if I do not know any difference, I cannot be accused of falsifying. Van Harbin smiled as he realized how alike was human nature the world over and in all periods of time. "'Here is your slave now,' said Malius. As the guest of Septimus Favonius, you will have others to do your bidding. but doubtless you will want to have your own body-servant as well." "'Yes,' said Van Harbin.

"'Cabulu has been very faithful. I should hate to part with him.' Malius led the way to a long shed-like building beneath the inner face of the rampart. Here were two litters and a number of strapping black warriors. As Malius appeared, eight of these sprang to their stations in front and behind one of the litters, and carried it from the shed, lowering it to the ground again before their master. "'And tell me, if you have visited Rome recently, does my litter compare favorably with those now

used by the nobles?' demanded Malleus. "'There have been many changes, Malius Lepas, since the Rome of which your historian sanguinarius wrote. "'Were I to tell you of even the least of them, I fear that you would not believe me.' "'But certainly there could have been no great change in the style of litters,' argued Malleus, and I cannot believe that the patricians have ceased to use them. Their litters travel upon wheels now, said Van Harbin. Incredible! exclaimed Malius.

It would be tortured to bump over the rough pavements and country roads on the great wooden wheels of ox-carts. No, Eric von Harbin. I am afraid I cannot believe that story. The city pavements are smooth today, and the countryside is cut in all directions by wide level highways, over which the litters of the modern citizens of Rome rolled at great speed on small wheels with soft tires. Nothing like the great wooden wheels of the ox-carts you have in mind, Malias Lepis.

The officer called a command to his carriers, who broke into a smart run. I warrant you, Eric von Harbin, that there be no litters in all Rome that move at greater speed than this, he boasted. How fast are we traveling now? asked von Harbin. "'Better than 8,500 paces an hour,' replied Malleus. "'Fifty thousand paces an hour is nothing unusual for the wheel-litters of today,' said Van Harbin. "'We call them automobiles.'

"'You are going to be a great success,' cried Malius, slapping von Harbin upon the shoulder. "'May Jupiter strike me dead if the guess of Septimus Favonius do not say that I have made a find indeed. "'Tell them that there be litter carriers in Rome today, who can run fifty thousand paces in an hour, and they will acclaim you the greatest entertainer, as well as the greatest liar Castromare has ever seen.' Van Harbin laughed good-naturely. "'But you'll have to admit, my friend, that I never said that there were litter-bearers

who could run fifty thousand paces an hour,' he reminded Melius. "'But did you not assure me that the litters traveled that fast? How then may a litter travel unless it is carried by bearers?' "'Perhaps the litters of today are carried by horses. "'Where are the horses that can run fifty thousand paces in an hour?' "'The litters are neither carried nor drawn by horses or men, Malius,' said Van Harbin. The officer leaned back against the soft cushion of the carriage, roaring with laughter. "'They fly, then, I presume,' he jeered.

"'By Hercules, you must tell this all over again to Septimus Favonius. I promise you, he will love you." They were passing along a broad avenue bordered by old trees. There was no pavement, and the surface of the street was deep with dust. The houses were built quite up to the street line, and where there was space between adjacent houses, a high wall closed the aperture, so that each side of the street presented a solid front of masonry broken by arched gateways, heavy doors, and small unglazed windows heavily barred.

"'These are residences?' asked von Harbin, indicating the buildings they were passing. "'Yes,' said Malius. "'From the massive doors and heavily barred windows, "'I should judge that your city is overrun with criminals,' commented von Harbin. "'Malius shook his head. "'On the contrary,' he said, "'we have few criminals in Kastrom-Mari. "'The defenses that you see are against the possible uprising of slaves

"'or invasions by barbarians.' Upon several occasions during the life of the city, such things have occurred, and so we build a safeguard against disaster in the event that there should be a recurrence of them, but even so doors are seldom locked even at night, for there are no thieves to break in, no criminals to menace the lives of our people. If a man has done wrong to a fellow man, he may have reason to expect the dagger of the assassin. But if his conscience be clear, he may live without fear of attack. I cannot conceive of a city without criminals, said Van Harbin.

How do you account for it? That is simple, replied Malius. When Honos Hasta revolted and founded the city of Costa Mari in the 953rd year of Rome, Castra Sanguinarius was overrun with criminals, so that no man dared go abroad at night without an armed bodyguard, nor was anyone safe within his own home. And Honus Hasta, who became the first Emperor of the East, swore that there should be no criminals in Kastromari. And he made laws so drastic that no thief or murderer lived to propagate his kind.

Indeed, the laws of Honos Hasta destroyed not only the criminal, but all the members of his family, so that there was none to transmit to posterity the criminal inclinations of a depraved sire. There are many who thought Honas Hasta a cruel tyrant, but time has shown the wisdom of many of his acts, and certainly our freedom from criminals may only be ascribed to the fact that the laws of Honos Hasta prevented the breeding of criminals. So seldom now does an individual arise who steals or wantonly murders that it is an event of as great a moment as any that can occur, and the entire city takes a holiday to see the culprit and his family destroyed.

Entering an avenue of more pretentious homes, the litter bears halted before an ornate gate where Lepas and Eric descended from the litter. In answer to the summons of the former, the gate was opened by a slave, and von Harbin followed his new friend across a tiled forecourt into an inner garden, where, beneath the shade of a tree, a stout elderly man was writing at a low desk. It was with something of a thrill that von Harbin noted, the ancient Roman inkstand, the reed pen and the roll of parchment that the man was using as naturally as though they had not been quite extinct for a thousand years.

"'Greetings, uncle,' cried Lepas, and as the older man turned toward them, "'I have brought you a guest such as no citizen of Castramari has entertained since the founding of the city. This, my uncle, is Eric von Harbin, barbarian chief from Far Germania.' Then to von Harbin, My revered uncle, Septimus Favonius! Septimus Favonius arose and greeted von Harbin hospitably, yet with such a measure of conscious dignity as to carry the suggestion that are barbarian,

even though a chief and a guest could not be received upon a plain of actual social equality by a citizen of Rome. Very briefly, Lepas recounted the occurrences leading to his meeting with von Harbin. Septimus Favonius seconded his nephew's invitation to be their guest, and then, at the suggestion of the older man, Lepus took Eric to his apartments to outfit him with fresh apparel. An hour later, Eric shaved and apparelled as a young Roman patrician, stepped from the apartment which had been placed at his disposal into the adjoining chamber which was a part of the suite of Malleus Lepas.

"'Go on down to the garden,' said Lepas. and when I am dressed, I shall join you there. As von Harbin passed through the home of Septimus Favonius on his way to the garden court, he was impressed by the peculiar blending of various cultures in the architecture and decoration of the home. The walls and columns of the building followed the simplest Grecian lines of architecture, while the rugs, hangings, and mural decorations showed marked evidence of both Oriental and savage African influences. The latter he could understand, but the source of the Oriental designs in many of the decorations was quite beyond him, since it was obvious that the Lost Tribe had had no intercourse with the

outside world, other than with the savage bagheegos, for many centuries. And when he stepped out into the garden, which was of considerable extent, he saw a further blending of Rome and savage Africa, for while the main part of the building was roofed with handmade tile, several porches were covered with native grass thatch, while a small outbuilding at the far end of the garden was a replica of a Begigo hut, except that the walls were left unplastered, so that the structure appeared in the nature of a summer house. Septimus Favonius had left the garden, and von Harbin took advantage of the fact to examine his surroundings more closely. The garden was laid out with winding gravel walks, bordered by shrubs

and flowers, with an occasional tree, some of which gave evidence of great age. The young man's mind, his eyes, his imagination, were so fully occupied with his surroundings, that he experienced a sensation almost akin to shock as he followed the turning of the path around a large ornamental shrub, and came face to face with a young woman. That she was equally surprised was evidenced by the consternation apparent in her expression as she looked wide-eyed into the eyes of von Harbin. For quite an appreciable moment of time, they stood looking at one another.

Von Harbin thought that never in his life had he seen so beautiful a girl. But the girl thought Von Harbin did not know. It was she who broke the silence. "'Who are you?' she asked in a voice little above a whisper, as one might conceivably address an apparition that had arisen suddenly and unexpectedly before him. "'I am a stranger here,' replied Van Harbin. "'And I owe you an apology for intruding upon your privacy.

"'I thought that I was alone in the garden.' "'Who are you?' repeated the girl. "'I have never seen your face before, or one like yours.' "'And I,' said Van Harbin, "'have never seen a girl like you. "'Perhaps I am dreaming. "'Perhaps you do not exist at all, "'for it does not seem credible

"'that in the world of you, realities, such a one as you could exist." The girl blushed. "'You are not of Castromare,' she said. "'That I can see.' Her tone was a trifle cold and slightly haughty. "'I have offended you,' said Van Harbin. "'I ask your pardon. I did not mean to be offensive, but coming upon you so unexpectedly quite took my breath away.' "'And your manners, too?' asked the girl, but now her eyes were smithes.

smiling. "'You have forgiven me?' asked von Harbin. "'You will have to tell me who you are and why you are here before I can answer that,' she replied. "'For all I know you might be an enemy, or a barbarian.' Van Harbin laughed. "'Malius Lepas, who invited me here, insists that I am a barbarian,' he said. "'But even so, I am the guest of Septimus Favonius, his uncle.' The girl shrugged. "'I am not surprised,' she said.

"'My father is notorious for the guests he honors.' "'You are the daughter of Favonius?' asked Van Harbin. "'Yes, I am Favonia,' replied the girl. "'But you have not told me about yourself. "'I command you to do so,' she said imperiously. "'I am Eric von Harbin of Germania,' said the young man. "'Germania!' exclaimed the girl. Caesar wrote of Germania, as did sanguinarious. It seems very far away.

"'It never seemed so far as now,' said Van Harbin. "'Yet the three thousand miles of distance seems nothing by comparison with the centuries of time that intervene.' The girl puckered her brows. "'I do not understand you,' she said. "'No,' said Van Harbin, and I cannot blame you.' "'You are a chief, of course?' she asked. He did not deny the insinuation, for he had been quick to see from the attitude of the

three patricians he had met that the social standing of a barbarian in Castramari might be easily open to question, unless his barbarism was somewhat mitigated by a title. Proud as he was of his nationality, von Harbin realized that it was a far cry from the European barbarians of Caesar's Day to their culture descendants of the 20th century, and that it would probably be impossible to convince these people of the changes that have taken place since their history was written. And also he was conscious of a very definite desire to appear well in the eyes of this lovely maiden of bygone age.

"'Favonia!' exclaimed von Harbin. He scarcely breathed the name. The girl looked up at him questioningly. "'Yes,' she said. "'It is such a lovely name.' He said. I'd never heard it spoken before. You like it? she asked. Very much indeed. The girl puckered her brows in thought. She had beautiful pencil brows and a forehead that denoted an intelligence that belied by neither

her eyes, her manner, nor her speech. I am glad that you like my name, but I do not understand why I should be glad. You say that you are a barbarian. Your appearance and your manner are those of a patrician, though perhaps you are overbold with a young woman you have never met before, but that I ascribe to the ignorance of the barbarian, and so I forgive it. Being a barbarian has its compensations,' laughed Van Harbin. "'And perhaps I am a barbarian. I may be again forgiven if I say you are quite the most beautiful girl I have ever seen, and the only one I could.' He hesitated.

"'You could what?' she demanded. "'Even a barbarian should not dare to say what I was about to say to one whom I have known scarce half a dozen minutes.' "'Whever you may be, you show rare discrimination,' came in a sarcastic tone in a man's voice directly behind von Harbin. The girl looked up in surprise, and Van Harbin wheeled about simultaneously, for neither had been aware of the presence of another. Facing him, von Harbin saw a short, dark, greasy-looking young man in an elaborate tunic,

his hand resting upon the hilt of the short-sword that hung at his hip. There was a sarcastic sneer upon the face of the newcomer. "'Who is your barbarian friend, Favonia?' he demanded. "'This is Eric von Harbin, a guest in the home of Septimus Favonius, my father,' replied the girl haughtily, and to von Harbin, "'This is Fulvis Fupus, who accepts the hospitality of Septimus Favonius so often that he feels free to criticize another guest.' "'Fupus flushed.

"'I apologize,' he said. "'But one may never know when to honor or when to ridicue one of Septimus Favonius's guests of honor. "'The last, if I recall correctly, was an ape, and before that there was a black barbarian from some outer village. But they are always interesting, and I am sure that the barbarian, Eric von Harbin, will prove no exception to the rule.

The man's tone was sarcastic and obnoxious to a degree, and it was with difficulty that von Harbin restrained his mounting temper. Fortunately, at this moment, Malius Lepis joined them, and Van Harbin was formerly presented to Favonia. Fovas, thereafter, paid little attention to Van Harbour. Harbin, but devoted his time assiduously to Favonia. Von Harbin knew from their conversation that they were upon friendly and intimate terms, and he guessed that Phupas was in love with Favonia,

though he could not tell from the girl's attitude whether or not she returned his affection. There was something else that Van Harbin was sure of, that he too was in love with Favonia. Upon several occasions in life he had thought that he was in love, but his sensations and reactions upon those other occasions had not been the same in either kind or degree as those which he now experienced. He found himself hating Fovus, whom he had known scarce a quarter of an hour, and whose greatest offence, aside from looking lovingly at Favonia, had been a certain arrogant sarcasm of speech and manner. Certainly no sufficient warrant for a sane man to wish

to do murder, and yet Eric von Harker. Harbin fingered the butt of his luger, which he had insisted upon wearing, in addition to the slim dagger with which Malleus Lepus had armed him. Later, when Septimus Favonius joined them, he suggested that they all go to the baths, and Malius Lepus whispered to Van Harbin that his uncle was already itching to exhibit his new find. "'He will take us to the baths of Caesar,' said Lepas, which are patronized by the richest patricians only.

So have a few good stories ready. But save your best ones, like that you told me about the modern Roman litters for the dinner that my uncle is sure to give tonight, for he will have the best of Castro Mari there, possibly even the emperor himself. The baths of Caesar were housed in an imposing building, of which that portion facing on the avenue

was given over to what appeared to be exclusive shops. The main entrance led to a large court, where the warmth with which the party was greeted by a number of patrons of the baths already congregated there attested to the popularity of Favonius, his daughter, and his nephew, and while it was evident to Van Harbin that there was less enthusiasm manifested for Fuvas Phupas. Servants conducted the bathers to the dressing-rooms, the men's and the women's being in different quarters of the building. After his clothes were removed, Van Harbin's body was anointed with oils in a warm room, and then he was led into a hot room, and from there, with the other men he passed where both

the men and women gathered. About the plunge were seats for several hundred people, and in the baths of Caesar these were constructed of highly polished granite. While von Harbin enjoyed the prospect of a swim in the clear cold water of the frigidarium, he was much more interested by the opportunity it afforded him to be with Favonia again. She was swimming slowly around the pool when he entered the room, and making a long-running dive, Van Harbin slipped easily and gracefully into the water, a few strokes bringing him to her side.

A murmur of applause that followed meant nothing to Van Harbin, for he did not know that diving was an unknown art among the citizens of Castramare. Fulvis Phupis, who had entered the frigidarium behind Van Harbin, sneered as he saw the dive and heard the applause. He had never seen it done before, but he could see that the thing was very easy, and realizing the advantages of so graceful in accomplishment, he determined at once to show the assembled patricians, and especially Favonia,

that he was equally a master of this athletic art, as was the barbarian. Running, as he had seen Van Harbin run, toward the edge of the pool, Fulvas Phupas sprang high into the air and came straight down upon his belly with a resounding smack that sent the wind out of the sea. him and the water splashing high in all directions. Gasping for breath, he managed to reach the side of the pool, where he clung while the laughter of the assembled patricians brought the scarlet of mortification to his face. Whereas before he had viewed von Harbin with contempt and some slight suspicion, he now viewed

him with contempt, suspicion, and hatred. Disgruntled, Phupas clambered from the pool and returned immediately to the dressing-room where he donned his garments. "'Going already, Phupus?' demanded a young patrician, who was disrobing in the apodotarium. "'Yes,' growled Phupus. "'I hear you came with Septimus Favonius and his new find. What sort may he be?'

"'Listen well, Cecilius Matalus,' said Phupus. "'This man who calls himself Eric von Harbin says that he is a chief from Germania, but I believe otherwise.' "'What do you believe?' demanded Mattelis, politely, though evidently, with no considerable interest. Fupus came close to the other. "'I believe him to be a spy from Castra Sanguerius,' he whispered, and that he is only pretending that he is a barbarian. "'But they say that he does not speak our language well,' said Mattelis.

"'He speaks it as any man might speak it, who wanted to pretend that he did not understand it or that it was new to him. said Phupus. Betelus shook his head. Septimus Favonius is no fool, he said. I doubt if there is anyone in Castra-Sanguinaria sufficiently clever to fool him to such an extent. There is only one man who has any right to judge as to that, snapped Phupus, and he is going to have the facts before I am an hour older.

Whom do you mean? asked Mattelis. Validus Augustus, Emperor of the East. I am going to him at once. Don't be a fool, Phupus, counsel Mattelis. You will only get yourself laughed at, or possibly worse. Know you not that Septimus Favonius is high in favor of the Emperor? Perhaps, but is it not also known that he was friendly with Cassius Hasta,

nephew of the Emperor, whom Validus Augustus accused of treason and banished? It would not take much to convince the Emperor that this Eric von Harbin is an emissive, of Cassius Hasta, who is reputed to be in Castrasanguinarius. Cecilius Mattelius Mattelius laughed. Go on, then, and make a fool of yourself, Phupus, he said. You will probably bring up at the end of a rope. The end of a rope will terminate this business, agreed Phupus, but Van Harbin will be there, not I.

End of Chapter 8. Chapter 9 of Tarzan and the Lost Empire. by Edgar Rice Burroughs. This Libervox recording is in the public domain. Tarzan and the Lost Empire Chapter 9 As night fell upon the city of Castrasanguinarius, the gloom of the granite dungeons beneath the city's coliseum

deepened into blackest darkness, which was relieved only by a rectangular patch of starlit sky where barred windows pierced the walls. Squatting upon the rough stone, own floor, his back against the wall, Tarzan watched the stars moving in slow procession across the windows opening. A creature of the wild, impatient of restraint, the ape-man suffered the mental anguish of the caged beast. Perhaps, because of his human mind, his suffering was greater than would have been that of one of the lower orders, yet he endured

with even greater outward stoicism than the beast that paces to and fro seeking escape from the bars that confine it. As the feet of the beast might have measured the walls of its dungeon, so did the mind of Tarzan, and never for a waking moment was his mind not occupied by thoughts of escape. Lukiti and the other inmates of the dungeon slept, but Tarzan still sat watching the free stars and envying them, when he became conscious of a sound, ever so slight, coming from the arena, the floor of which was about on a level with the sill of the little window in the top of the dungeon wall. Something was moving, stealthily and cautiously, upon the sand of the

arena. Presently, framed in the window, silhouetted against the sky, appeared a familiar figure. Tarzan smiled and whispered a word so low that a human ear could scarce have heard it, and Enkima slipped between the bars and dropped to the floor of the dungeon. An instant later the little monkey snuggled close to Tarzan, its long must-hema. muscular arms clasped tightly about the neck of the ape-man. "'Come home with me,' pleaded Enkima. "'Why do you stay in this cold, dark hole beneath the ground?' "'You have seen the cage in which we sometimes keep Jad Balja the golden lion?'

demanded Tarzan. "'Yes,' said Inkema. "'Jad Balja cannot get out unless we open the gate,' explained Tarzan. "'I too am in a cage. I cannot get out until they opened the gate. "'I will go and get Muviro and his Gomangani with the sharp sticks,' said Enkima. "'They will come and let you out.' "'No, Inkema,' said Tarzan.

"'If I cannot get out by myself, Muviro could not get here in time to free me. And if he came, many of my brave Waziri would be killed, for there are fighting men here in far greater numbers than Muviro can bring.' After a while Tarzan slept. and curled up within his arms, slept Nkima the little monkey, but when Tarzan awoke in the morning, Nkima was gone. Toward the middle of the morning, soldiers came, and the door of the dungeon was unlocked and open to admit several of them,

including a young white officer who was accompanied by a black slave. The officer addressed Tarzan in the language of the city, but the ape-man shook his head, indicating that he did not understand. Then the other turned to the other turn to the city. the black slave with a few words, and the latter spoke to Tarzan in the Begigo dialect, asking him if he understood it. Yes, replied the ape-man, and through the interpreter the officer questioned Tarzan. Who are you, and what were you a white man doing in the village of the Begigo's? asked the officer.

I am Tarzan of the apes, replied the prisoner. I was looking for another white man who was lost somewhere in these mountains, but I slipped upon the cliffside and fell, and while I was unconscious, the Begigos took me prisoner. And when your soldiers raided the Begigo village, they found me there. Now that you know about me, I presume that I shall be released. Why? demanded the officer. Are you a citizen of Rome? Of course not, said Tarzan. What has that to do with it? Because, if you are not a citizen of Rome, it is quite possible that you are an enemy. How do we know that you are not from Castromare?" Tarzan shrugged. "'I do not know,' he said, "'how you would know that, since I do not even know what Castromare

means.' "'That is what you would say if you wish to deceive us,' said the officer. "'And you would also pretend that you could not speak or understand our language. But you will find that it is not going to be easy to deceive us.' We are not such fools as the people of Castromare believe us to be. Where is this Castromare, and what is it? asked Tarzan. The officer laughed. You are very clever, he said. I assure you, said the ape-man, that I am not trying to deceive you.

Believe me for a moment and answer one question. What is it you wish to ask? Has another white man come into your country within the last few weeks? "'He is the one for whom I am searching.' "'No white man has entered this country,' replied the officer, "'since Marcus Crispus Sanguinarius led the third cohort of the Tenth Legion in victorious conquest of the barbarians "'who inhabited it eighteen hundred and twenty-three years ago.'

"'And if a stranger were in your country, you would know it?' asked Tarzan. "'If he were in Castra Sanguanarius, yes,' replied the officer. but if he had entered Castro Mare at the east end of the valley, I should not know it. But come, I was not sent here to answer questions, but to fetch you before one who will ask them. At a word from the officer, the soldiers who accompanied him conducted Tarzan from the dungeon, along the corridor through which he had come to previous day and up into the city. The detachment proceeded for a mile through the city streets to an imposing building. before the entry to which there was stationed a military guard

whose elaborate cuirasses, helmets, and crests suggested that they might be a part of a select military organization. The metal plates of their cuirasses appeared to Tarzan to be of gold, as did the metal of their helmets, while the hilts and scabbards of their swords were elaborately carved and further ornamented with colored stones, ingeniously inlaid in the metal, and to their gorgeous appearance was added the final touch

of scarlet cloaks. The officer who met the party at the gate admitted Tarzan, the black interpreter, and the officer who had brought him, but the guard of the soldiery was replaced by a detachment of a splendid men-at-arm similar to those who guarded the entrance to the palace. Tarzan was taken immediately into the building and along a wide corridor, from which opened many chambers, into a large oblong room flanked by stately columns. At the far end of the apartment, a large man sat in a huge carved chair upon a raised dais. There were many other people in the room, nearly all of whom were colorfully garbed in bright

cloaks over colored tunics and ornay cuiruses of leather or metal, while others were only simple flowing togas, usually of white. Slaves, messengers, officers were constantly entering or leaving the chamber. The party accompanying Tarzan withdrew between the columns at one. side of the room and waited there." "'What is this place?' asked Tarzan of the Big Ego interpreter. "'And who is the man at the far end of the room?' "'This is the throne room of the Emperor of the West, and that is Sublatus Imperator

himself.' For some time Tarzan watched the scene before him with interest. He saw people, evidently of all classes, approach the throne and address the Emperor. and though he could not understand their words, he judged that they were addressing pleas to their ruler. There were patricians among the supplicants, brown-skinned shopkeepers, black barbarians resplendent in their savage finery and even slaves.

The Emperor, Sublattus, presented an imposing figure. Over a tunic of white linen, the Emperor wore a cuirass of gold. His sandals were of white, with gold buckles, and from his shoulders fell the purple robe of the Caesars. A fillet of embroidered linen about his brow was the only other insignia of his station. Directly behind the throne were heavy hangings, against which were ranged a file of soldiers bearing poles surmounted by silver eagles and various other devices and banners, of the meaning and purpose of which Tarzan was ignorant. Upon every column along the side of the wall were hung shields of various shapes over crossed banners and standards, similar to those

ranged behind the Emperor. Everything pertaining to the embellishment of the room was Marshal, the mural decorations being crudely painted scenes of war. Presently, a man, who appeared to be an official of the court, approached them and addressed the officer who had brought Tarzan from the Coliseum. "'Are you Maximus Procleris?' he demanded. "'Yes,' replied the officer. Present yourself with the prisoner.

As Tarzan advanced toward the throne surrounded by the detachment of the guard, all eyes were turned upon him, for he was a conspicuous figure even in this assemblage of gorgeously apparelled courtiers and soldiers, though his only garments were a loincloth and a leopard skin. His sun-tanned skin, his shock of black hair, and his gray eyes might not alone have marked him especially in such an assemblage, for there were other dark-skinned black-skinned black black-haired, gray-eyed men among them, but there was only one who towered inches above them all, and he was Tarzan. The undulating smoothness of his easy strides suggested even to the mind

of the proud and haughty sublattus the fierce and savage power of the king of beasts, which perhaps accounted for the fact that the emperor, with raised hand, halted the party a little further from the throne than usual. As the party halted before the throne, Tarzan did not wait to be questioned, but turning to the Big Ego interpreter said, "'Ask Sublattus why I have been made a prisoner and tell him that I demand that he free me at once.' The black quailed. "'Do as I tell you,' said Tarzan. "'What is he saying?' asked Subladus of the interpreter.

"'I fear to repeat such words to the emperor,' replied the black. "'I command it,' said Subladus. He asked why he has been made a prisoner and demands that he be released at once. Ask him who he is, said Subladus angrily, that he dares issue commands to Sublattus imperator. Tell him, said Tarzan, after the Emperor's words have been translated to him, that I am Tarzan of the apes. But if that means as little to him as his name means to me, I have other means to convince him that I am as accustomed to issuing order

and being obeyed as is he. "'Take the insolent dog away,' replied Sublattus, with trembling voice, after he had been told what Tarzan's words had been. The soldiers laid hold of Tarzan, but he shook them off. "'Tell him,' snapped the ape-man, "'that as one white man to another I demand an answer to my question. Tell him that I did not approach his country as an enemy, but as a friend, and that I shall look to him to see that I am accorded the treatment to which I am entitled,

and that before I leave this room. When these words were translated to Sablatus, the purple of his enraged face matched the imperial purple of his cloak. "'Take him away!' he shrieked. "'Take him away! Call to guard! Throw Maximus preclaris into chains for permitting a prisoner to thus address Sublatus.' Two soldiers seized Tarzan. one is right arm, the other is left.

But he swung them suddenly together before him, and with such force did their heads meet that they relaxed their grasp upon him and sank unconscious to the floor, and then it was that the eight men leapt with the agility of a cat to the dais where sat the emperor Sibladis. So quickly had the act been accomplished, and so unexpected was it, that there was none prepared to come between Tarzan and the emperor

in time to prevent the terrible indignity that Tarzan proceeded to inflict upon him, Seizing the emperor by the shoulder, he lifted him from his throne and wheeled him about, and then, grasping him by the scruff of the neck and the bottom of his cuirass, he lifted him from the floor just as several pikemen leapt forward to rescue Subladas. But when they were about to menace Tarzan with their pikes, he used the body of the screaming Sublottas as a shield, so that the soldiers dared not attack for fear of killing their emperor.

"'Tell them,' said Tarzan to the big ego interpreter, that if any man interferes with me before I have reached the street, I shall ring the emperor's neck. Tell him to order them back. If he does, I shall set him free when he is out of the building. If he refuses, it will be at his own risk. When this message was given to Sabladus, he stopped screaming orders to his people to attack the ape-man and instead warned them to permit Tarzan to leave the palace. Carrying the emperor above his head, Tarzan leapt from the dais, and as he did so, the courtiers fell back in accordance with the commands of Sablatus, who now ordered them to turn their backs that they might not witness the indignity

that was being done to their ruler. Down the long throne-room and through the corridors to the outer court, Tarzan of the apes carried Sibladus aperator above his head, and at the command of the ape-man the black interpreter went ahead, but there was no need for him, since Sublattis kept the road clear as he issued commands in a voice that trembled with a convent. combination of rage, fear, and mortification. At the outer gate, the members of the guard begged to be permitted to rescue Sublattus and avenge the insult that had been put upon him, but the Emperor warned them to permit his capture to leave the palace in safety, provided he kept his word and liberated

Sabladus when they had reached the avenue beyond the gate. The scarlet-cloaked guard fell back grumbling, their eyes filled with anger because of the humiliation of their emperor. Even though they had no love for him, yet he was the personification of the power and dignity of their government. And the scene that they witnessed filled them with mortification as the half-naked barbarian bore their commander-in-chief through the palace gates out into the tree-bordered avenue beyond, while the black interpreter marched ahead, scarce knowing whether to be more downcast by terror

or elated through pride in his unwanted publicity. The city of Castor Sanguerius had been carved from the primeval forest that clothed the west end of the canyon, and with unusual vision the founders of the city had cleared only such spaces as were necessary for avenues, buildings, and similar purposes. Ancient trees overhung the avenue before the palace, and in many places their foliage overspread the low housetops, mingling with the foliage of the trees in inner courtyards. Midway of the Broad Avenue, The ape-man halted and lowered Sublatus to the ground. He turned his eyes in the direction of the gateway

through which the soldiers of Sublatus were crowding out into the avenue. "'Tell them,' said Tarzan to the interpreter, "'to go back into the palace grounds. "'Then and then only shall I release their emperor.' For Tarzan had noted the ready javelins in the hands of many of the guardsmen and guessed that the moment his body ceased to be protected by the near presence of Subladus, it would be the target and the goal of a score of the weapons.

When the interpreter delivered the ape-man's ultimatum to them, the guardsman hesitated, but Sublattus commanded them to obey, for the barbarian's heavy grip upon his shoulder convinced him that there was no hope that he might escape alive or uninjured unless he and his soldiers acceded to the creature's demand. As the last of the guardsman passed back into the palace courtyard, Tarzan released the emperor, and as Subladus hastened quickly toward the gate, the guardsmen made a sudden sally into the avenue. They saw their quarry turn and take a few quick steps, leap high into the air, and disappear amidst the foliage of an overhanging oak. A dozen javelins hurtled among the branches of the tree. The soldiers rushed forward, their eyes strained upward, but the quarry had vanished.

Sublattas was close upon their heels. "'Quick!' he cried. "'After him! a thousand dinari to the man who brings down the barbarian. There he goes, cried one, pointing. No, cried another. I saw him there among the foliage. I saw the branches move, and he pointed in the opposite direction. And in the meantime, the ape-man moved swiftly through the trees along one side of the avenue,

dropped to a low roof, crossed it, and sprang into a tree that rose from an inner court, pausing there to listen for signs of pursuit. After the manner of a wild beast hunted through his native jungle, he moved as silently as the shadow of a shadow, so that now, although he crouched scarce twenty feet above them, the two people in the courtyard below him were unaware of his presence. But Tarzan was not unaware of theirs, and as he listened to the noise of the growing pursuit that was spreading now in all directions through the city, he took note of the girl and the men in the garden beneath him.

It was apparent that the man was wooing the maid, and Tarzan needed no knowledge of their spoken language to interpret the gestures, the glances, and the facial expressions of passionate pleading upon the part of the man or the cold aloofness of the girl. Sometimes a tilt of her head presented a partial view of her profile to the ape-man, and he guessed that she was very beautiful, but the face of the young man with her reminded him of the face of Pomba, the rat. It was evident that his courtship was not progressing to the liking of the youth, and now there were evidences of anger in his tone.

The girl rose haughtily, and with a cold word turned away, and then the man leapt to his feet from the bench upon which they had been sitting, and seized her roughly by the arm. She turned surprised and angry eyes upon him, and had half-voiced a cry for help, when the rat-faced man clapped a hand across her mouth and with his free arm dragged her into his embrace. Now all of this was none of Tarzan's affair.

The shees of the city of Castra sanguinarius met no more to the savage ape-man than did the shees of the village of Nuto, chief of the Begigos. They met no more to him than did Sabor the lioness, and far less than did the shees of the tribe of Akut or of Toyat the King ape. But Tarzan of the Apes was often a creature of impulses. Now he realized that he did not like the rat-faced young man, and that he never could like him. while the girl that he was maltreating seemed to be doubly likable because of her evident aversion to her torment her.

The man had bent the girl's frail body back upon the bench. His lips were close to hers when there was a sudden jarring of the ground beside him, and he turned astonished eyes upon the figure of a half-naked giant. Steel-gray eyes looked into his beady black ones, a heavy hand fell upon the collar of his tunic, and he felt himself lifted from the body of the girl and then hurled roughly aside. He saw his assailant lift his victim to her feet, and his little eyes saw, too, another thing. The stranger was unarmed. Then it was that the sword of Fastus leapt from its scabbard,

and that Tarzan of the apes found himself facing naked steel. The girl saw what Fastus would do. She saw that the stranger who protected her was unarmed, and she leapt between them, at the same time calling loudly, "'Axak! Sarus! Mpingu! Hither quickly!' Tarzan seized the girl and swung her quickly behind him, and simultaneously Fastus was upon him. But the Roman had reckoned without his host and the easy conquest over an unarmed man that he had expected seemed suddenly less easy of accomplishment, for when his keen Spanish sword swung down to cleave the body of his foe, that foe was not there. Never in his life had Fastus witnessed such agility. It was as though the eyes and body of the barbarian moved more rapidly than the sword of Fastus, and always a fraction of an inch ahead.

Three times Fastus swung viciously at the stranger, and three times his blade cut empty air, while the girl, Y died with astonishment, watched the seemingly unequal duel. Her heart was filled with admiration for this strange young giant, who, though he was evidently a barbarian, looked more the patrician than Fastus himself. Three times the blade of Fastus cut harmlessly through empty air, and then there was a lightning-like movement on the part of his antagonist. A brown hand shot beneath the guard of the Roman, steel fingers gripped his wrist, and an instant later his sword clattered to the tile walk of the courtyard. At the same moment, two white men and a negro hurried breathlessly into the garden and ran quickly forward,

two with daggers in their hands, and one the black with a sword. They saw Tarzan standing between Fastus and the girl. They saw the man in the grip of a stranger. They saw the sword clatter to the ground, and naturally they reached the one conclusion that seemed possible. Fastus was being worsted in an attempt to protect the girl against a stranger. Tarzan saw them coming toward him and realized that three-to-one are heavy odds. He was upon the point of using Fastus as a shield against his new enemies, when the girl stepped before the three and motioned them to stop. Again, the tantalizing tongue that he could almost understand, and yet not quite, as the girl explained the circumstances to the newcomers while Tarzan still stood holding fastest

by the wrist. Presently, the girl turned to Tarzan and addressed him, but he only shook his head to indicate that he could not understand her. Then, as his eyes fell upon the black, a possible means of communicating with these people occurred to him, for the Negro resembled closely the big egos of the outer world. "'Are you a big ego?' asked Tarzan in the language of that tribe. "'The Black looked surprised. "'Yes,' he said.

"'I am, but who are you?' "'And you speak the language of these people?' "'As Tarzan, indicating the young woman and fastest, "'and ignoring the Black's query. "'Of course,' said the Black, "'I have been a prisoner among them for many years, "'but there are many big egos among my fellow prisoners, "'and we have not forgotten the language of our mothers.'

"'Good,' said Tarzan. "'Through you this young woman may speak to me. "'She wants to know who you are, "'and where you came from, "'and what you are doing in her garden, "'and how you got here, "'and how you happened to protect her from Fustus, "'and Tarzan held up his hand,

"'one at a time,' he cried. "'Tell her, I am Tarzan of the apes, "'a stranger from a far country, "'and I came here in friendship, "'seeking one of my own people who was lost.' Now came an interruption in the form of loud pounding and alluing beyond the outer doorway of the building. "'See what that may be, Aksuk,' directed the girl, and as the once so addressed,

and evidently a slave, humbly turned to do her bidding, she once more addressed Tarzan through the interpreter. "'You have won the gratitude of Delecta,' she said, and you shall be rewarded by her father.' At this moment, Aksuk returned followed by a young officer. As the eyes of the newcomer fell upon Tarzan, they went wide and he started back, his hand going to the hilt of his sword, and simultaneously Tarzan recognized him as Maximus Procleras, the young patrician officer who had conducted him from the Coliseum to the palace. "'Lay off your sword, Maximus Proclaris,' said the young girl,

"'for this man is no enemy.' "'Are you sure of that, Delecta?' demanded Procleris. "'What do you know of him?' "'I know that he can't. came in time to save me from this swine who would have harmed me," said the girl haughtily, casting a withering glance at Fastus. "'I do not understand,' said Procleris. "'This is a barbarian prisoner of war who calls himself Tarzan, and whom I took this morning

from the Coliseum to the palace at the command of the emperor, that Subladus might look upon the strange creature whom some thought to be a spy from Castromare.' "'If he is a prisoner, what is he doing here, then?' demanded the girl. "'And why are you here?' "'This fellow attacked the emperor himself, and then escaped from the palace. The entire city is being searched, and I, being in charge of a detachment of soldiers assigned to this district, came immediately hither, fearing the very thing that has happened, and that this wild man might find you and do you harm.'

"'It was the patrician fastest son of Imperial Caesar who would have harmed me,' said the girl. "'It was the wild man who saved me from him. him. Maximus Proclerus looked quickly at Fastus, the son of Sublatus, and then at Tarzan. The young officer appeared to be resting upon the horns of a dilemma. "'Here is your man,' said Fastus with a sneer. Back to the dungeons with him. Maximus Pecleras does not take orders from Fastus, said the young man, and he knows his duty without consulting him. "'You will arrest this man who has protected me, Proclaris?' demanded Delecta.

"'What else may I do?' asked Proclaris. "'It is my duty.' "'Then do it,' sneered Fastus. Preclerus went white. "'It is with difficulty that I can keep my hands off you, Fastus,' he said. "'If you were the son of Jupiter himself, it would not take much more to get yourself choked. "'If you know what is well for you, you will go, before I lose control of my temper.

Mpingu, said Delector, show fastest to the avenue. Fastest flushed. My father, the emperor, shall hear of this, he snarled. And do not forget, Delector, your father stands none too well in the estimation of Subladus Imperator. Get gone, cried Delector, before I order my black slave to throw you into the avenue. With a sneer and a swagger, Fastest Pist. quit the garden, and when he had gone, delected turn to Maximus Precleris.

"'What shall we do?' she cried. "'I must protect this noble stranger who saved me from Fastus, and at the same time you must do your duty and return him to Sabladus.' "'I have a plan,' said Maximus Precleras, "'but I cannot carry it out unless I can talk with the stranger.' "'Imingo can understand and interpret for him,' said the girl. Can you trust Mpinku implicitly? asked Proclaris. Absolutely, said Delecta.

Then send away the others, said Preclerus, indicating Aksuk and Sarus. And when Impingu returned from escorting fastest to the street, he found Maximus Proclerus, Delecta, and Tarzan alone in the garden. Preclerus motioned Mpingu to advance. Tell the stranger that I have been sent to arrest him. He said to Mekyll. Pingu. But tell him also that, because of the service he has rendered delecta, I wish to protect him, if he will follow my instructions.

"'What are they?' asked Tarzan, when the question have been put to him. "'What do you wish me to do?' "'I wish you to come with me,' said Precleras. "'To come with me as though you are my prisoner. I shall take you in the direction of the Coliseum, and when I am opposite my own home, I shall give you a signal so that you will understand that the high-house of the high-esim.' house is mine. Immediately afterward, I will make it possible for you to escape into the trees, as you did when you quit the palace with Sablattus. Go then immediately to my house, and remain there

until I return. Delecta will send Mpingu there now to warn my servants that you are coming. At my command they will protect you with their lives. Do you understand?' "'I understand,' replied the ape-man, when the plan had been explained to him by M-Pingu. Later, said Procleris, we may be able to find a way to get you out of Castrasanguinarius and across the mountains. End of Chapter 9. Chapter 10 of Tarzan and the Lost Empire by Edgar Rice Burroughs. This Libervox recording is in the public domain. Tarzan and the Lost Empire. Chapter 10 The cares of state rested lightly upon the shoulders of a

Aletis Augustus, Emperor of the East, for though his title was imposing, his domain was small, and his subjects few. The island city of Costa Mare boasted a population of only a trifle more than 22,000 people, of which some 3,000 were whites, and 19,000 of mixed blood, while outside the city, in the villages of the lake dwellers and along the eastern shore of Mare Orientes, dwelt the balance of his subjects, comprising some 26,000 blacks. Today, reports and audiences disposed of, the Emperor had withdrawn to the Palace Garden to spend an hour in conversation with a few of his intimates, while his musicians, concealed within a vine-covered bower, entertained him.

While he was thus occupied, a Chamberlain approached and announced that the patrician Fulvis Phupas begged an audience of the Emperor. "'Fulvis knows that the audience hour is passed,' snapped the Emperor, bid him come on the morrow. He insists most glorious Caesar, said the Chamberlain, that his business is of the utmost importance, and that it is only because he felt that the safety of the Emperor is at stake that he came at this hour. Bring him here, then, commanded Veletus, and as the Chamberlain turned away, am I never to have a moment's relaxation without some fool like Fulvus Fupus breaking in upon me with some silly story?

He grumbled to one of his companions. When Fulvas approached the Emperor a moment later, he was received with a cold and haughty stare. "'I have come, most glorious Caesar,' said Fulvas, "'to fulfill the duty of a citizen of Rome, whose first concern should be the safety of his emperor.' "'What are you talking about?' snapped Fuletus. "'Quick, out with it.' "'There is a stranger in Castramare who claims to be a barbarian from Germania, but I believe him to be a spy from Castrum Sanguinarius,

where it is said Cassius Hasta is an honored guest of Subladus in that city. What do you know about Cassius Hasta, and what has he to do with it? demanded Valides. It is said, it is rumored, stammered Fulvis Phupus, that I have heard too many rumors already about Cassius Hasta, exclaimed Veletus. Can I not dispatch my nephew upon a mission, without every fool in Castro-Mare lying awake nights to conjure motives, which may later be ascribed to me?'

"'It is only what I heard,' said Fulvas, flushed and uncomfortable. "'I do not know anything about it. I did not say that I knew.' "'Well, what did you hear?' demanded Veletus. "'Come, out with it!' "'The talk is common in the baths that you sent Cassius Haster away because he was plotting treason, and that he went at once to Sublatus, who received him in a friendly fashion, and that together they are planning an attack upon Castromare. Valita scowled.

Baseless rumor, he said, but what about this prisoner? What has he to do with it, and why have I not been advised of his presence? That I do not know, said Fulvis Fupus. That is why I felt it doubly my duty to inform you, since the man who is harboring the stranger is a most powerful patrician and one who might well be ambitious. Who is he? asked the emperor. Septimus Favonius, replied Fupus. Septimus Favonius, exclaimed Valides, impossible.

Not so impossible, said Fupus boldly, if glorious Caesar will but recall the friendship that ever existed between Cassius Hasta and Malleus Lepis, the nephew of Septimus Favonius. The home of Septimus Favonius was the other home of Cassius Hasta. To whom, then, sooner might be turned for aid than to his powerful friend, whose ambitions are well known outside the palace, even though they may not as yet have come to the ears of Alidas Augustus. Nervously, the emperor arose and paced to and fro,

the eyes of the others watching him narrowly. Those of Fulvasfupas narrowed with malign anticipation. Presently Validus halted and turned toward one of his courtiers. "'May Hercules strike me dead?' he cried, "'if there be not some truth in what Fulvas Fupus suggests.' "'And to Fupus, what is the stranger like?' "'He is a man of white skin, yet of slightly different complexion and appearance than the usual patrician.

He feigns to speak our language with a certain practice stiltedness that is intended to suggest lack of familiarity. This, I think, is merely a part of the ruse to deceive. How did he come into Castramare, and none of my officers report the matter to me? asked Valides. That you may learn from Malius Lepas, said Fubus. For Malius Lepus was in command of the Porta Decumana when some of the barbarians of the lake villages brought him there, presumably a prisoner.

Yet Caesar knows how easy it would have been to bribe these creatures to play such a part. "'You explain it so well, Fulfus Fupus, said the Emperor, "'that one might even suspect you to have been the instigator of the plot, "'or at least to have given much thought to similar schemes.' "'Seasurer's ever-brillant wit never deserts him,' said Fupas, forcing a smile, though his face paled. "'We shall see,' snapped Veletus, and turning to one of his officers, "'order the arrest of Septimus Favonius and Malius Lepus and this stranger at once.'

As he ceased speaking, a Chamberlain entered the garden and approached the Emperor. Septimus Favonius requests an audience, he announced. Malius Lepus, his nephew, and a stranger are with him. Fetch them, said Veletus, and to the officer who was about to depart to arrest him, wait here, we shall see what Septimus Favonius has to say. A moment later the three entered and approached the Emperor. Favonius and Lepus saluted Veletus, and then the former presented von Harbin as a barbarian chief from Germania. "'We have already heard of this barbarian chief,' said Veletus with a sneer.

Fovonius and Lepas glanced at Phupus. "'Why was I not immediately notified of the capture of this prisoner?' This time the Emperor directed his remarks to Malius Lepus. "'There has been little delay, Caesar,' replied the young officer. replied the young officer. It was necessary that he be bathed and property clothed before he was brought here. It was not necessary that he be brought here, said Veletus. There are dungeons in Castromare for prisoners from Castra sanguinarius.

He is not from Castra sanguinarius, said Septimus Favonius. Where are you from, and what are you doing in my country? demanded Veletus, turning upon von Harbin. "'I am from a country that your historians knew as Germania,' replied Eric. "'And I suppose you learn to speak our language in Germania?' sneered Veletus. "'Yes,' replied Van Harbin. "'I did.' "'And you have never been to Castra Sanguerius?'

"'Never.' "'I presume you have been to Rome,' laughed Veletus. "'Yes, many times,' replied Van Harbin. "'And who is Emperor there now?' "'There is no Roman Emperor,' said Van Harbin. "'No Roman Emperor!' exclaimed Veletus. "'If you are not a spy from Castra Sanguerius, you are a lunatic. "'Perhaps you are both, for no one but a lunatic would expect me to believe such a story.

"'No Roman Emperor indeed.' "'There is no Roman Emperor,' said Van Harbin, "'because there is no Roman Empire.' "'Mannius Lepis tells me that your country has has had no intercourse with the outside world for more than eighteen hundred years. Much can happen in that time. Much has happened. Rome fell over a thousand years ago. No nation speaks its language today, which is understood by priests and scholars only.

The barbarians of Germania, of Gallia, and of Britannia have built empires and civilizations of tremendous power, and Rome is only a city in Italia. Malius Lepas was beaming delightedly. "'I told you,' he whispered to Favonius, "'that you would love him. "'By Jupiter, I wish he would tell Valides "'the story of the litters that travel fifty thousand paces an hour.' "'There was that in the tone and manner of unharbon

"'that compelled confidence and belief, "'so that even the suspicious Veletus gave credence "'to the seemingly wild tales of the stranger "'and presently found himself asking questions of the barbarian. "'Finally, the emperor turned to Fulvis Phupus. "'Upon what proof do you accuse this man of being a spy from Castor Sanguerius?' he demanded. "'Where else may he be from?' asked Fulvis Fupus. "'We know he is not from Castromare, so he must be from Castrum Sanguinarius.'

"'You have no evidence, then, to substantiate your accusations?' Fupus hesitated. "'Get out,' ordered Veletus angrily. "'I shall attend to you later.' Overcome by mortification, Phupas left the garden, but the malevolent glances that he shot at Favonius, Lepus, and Eryk boated them no good. Valditus looked long and searchingly at von Harbin for several minutes after Phupas quit the garden, as though attempting to read the soul of the stranger standing before him.

"'So there is no emperor at Rome,' he mused half aloud. When Sanguinarius led his cohort out of Egyptus, Nerva was at Emperor. That was upon the sixth day before the Callens of February in the 840th year of the city and the second year of Nerva's reign. Since that day, no word of Rome has reached the descendants of Saguenarius and his cohort. Von Harbin figured rapidly, searching his memory for the historical dates and data of ancient history that were as fresh in his mind as those of his own day. "'The sixth day before the callens of February,' he repeated, That would be the 27th day of January in the 848th year of the city.

Why, January 27th, AD 98, is the date of Nerva's death, he said. Ah, if Sankanarius had but known, said Veletus. But Egyptus is a long way from Rome, and Sanguinarius was far to the south up the Nylos, before word could have reached his post by ancient Thebe that his enemy was dead. And who became emperor after Nerva? Do you know that? Trajan, replied Van Harbin. Why do you, a barbarian, know so much concerning the history of Rome? asked the Emperor.

I am a student of such things, replied Van Harbin. It has been my ambition to become an authority on the subject. Could you write down these happenings since the death of Nerva? I could put down all that I could recall, or all that I have read. said Van Harbin, but it would take a long time. "'You shall do it,' said Veletus, "'and you shall have the time.' "'But I had not planned remaining in your country,' dissented Van Harbin.

"'You shall remain,' said Veletus. "'You shall also write a history of the reign of Valides Augustus, emperor of the east.' "'But,' interjected von Harbin, "'enough,' snapped Veletus. "'I am Caesar. It is a command.' Von Harbin shrugged and smiled. Rome and the Caesars, he realized,

had never seemed other than musty parchment and weather-worn inscriptions cut in crumbling stone, until now. Here indeed was a real Caesar. What matter it that his empire was not but a few square miles of marsh, an island and swampy shoreland in the bottom of an unknown canyon, or that his subjects numbered less than fifty thousand souls? The first Augustus himself was no more a Caesar than was his namesake, Veletus.

"'Come,' said Veletus, "'I shall take you to the library myself, for that will be the scene of your labors.' In the library, which was a vault-like room at the end of a long corridor, Veletus displayed with pride several hundred parchment rolls neatly arranged upon shelves. "'Here,' said Veletus, selecting one of the rolls, is the story of sanguinarius and the history of our country up to the founding of Castramare. Take it with you, and read it at your leisure. For while you shall remain with Septimus Favonius,

whom with Malius Lepis I shall hold responsible for you, every day you shall come to the palace, and I shall dictate to you the history of my reign. Go now with Septimus Favonius, and at this hour to-morrow attend again upon Caesar. When they were outside the palace of Valides Augustus, Van Harbin turned to Malius Lepus. "'It is a question whether I am a prisoner or a guest,' he said with a rueful smile. "'Perhaps you are both,' said Malius Lepis, "'but that you are even partially a guest is fortunate for you.

Voletus Augustus is vain, arrogant, and cruel. He is also suspicious, for he knows that he is not popular, and Phovus Phupus had evidently almost succeeded in bringing your doom upon you and ruin to Favonius and myself before we arrived. What strange whim altered the mind of Caesar? I do not know. But it is fortunate for you that it was altered. Fortunate, too, for Septimus Favonius and Malius Lepus. But it will take years to write the history of Rome, said von Harbin. And if you refuse to write it, you will be dead many more. years than it would take to accomplish the task, retorted Malleus Lepis with a grin.

Castramare is not an unpleasant place in which to live, said Septimus Favonius. Perhaps you are right, said Van Harbin, as the face of the daughter of Favonius presented itself to his mind. Return to the home of his host, the instinct of the archaeologist and the scholar urged von Harbin to an early perusal of the ancient papyrus role that Caesar had loaned him, so that no sooner was he in the apartments that had been set aside for him, that he stretched himself upon a long sofa and untied the cords that confined the roll. As it unrolled before his eyes, he saw a manuscript in ancient Latin, marred by changes and erasures, yellowed by age. It was quite unlike anything that had previously fallen into his

hands during his scholarly investigations into the history and literature of ancient Rome. For whereas such other original ancient manuscripts, as he had had the good fortune to examine, had been the work of clerks or scholars, a moment's glance at this marked it as the laborious effort of a soldier unskilled in literary pursuits. The manuscript bristled with the rough idiom of far-flung camps of veteran legionaries, with the slang of Rome and Egypt of nearly two thousand years before, and there were references to people and places that appeared in no histories or geography known to modern man.

Little places and little people that were without fame in their own time and whose very memory had long since been erased from the consciousness of man. But yet, in this crude manuscript, they lived again for Eric von Harbin. The Quester, who had saved the life of Sanguinarius

in an Egyptian town that never was on any map. And there was Marcus Crispus Sanguinarius himself, who had been of sufficient importance to win the enmity of Nerva in the year 90 AD, while the latter was consul. Marcus Crispus Sanguinarius, the founder of an empire whose name appears nowhere

in the annals of ancient Rome. With mounting interest, von Harbin read the complaints of Sanguinarius, and his anger, because the enmity of Nerva had caused him to be relegated to the hot sands of this distant post below the ancient city of Thebe

in far Egyptus. Writing in the third person, Sanguinarius had said, sanguinarius, a prefect of the third cohort of the 10th Legion, stationed below Thibi in Egyptus in the 846th year of the city, immediately after Nerva assumed the purple, was accused of having plotted against the emperor. About the fifth day before the calends of February in the 848th year of the city, a messenger came to Sanguarius from Nerva, commanding the prefect to return to Rome, and place himself under arrest. But this, Sanguonarius had no

mind to do. And as no other in his camp knew the nature of the message he had received from Nerva, Senguinarius struck the messenger down with his dagger and caused the word to be spread among his men that the man had been an assassin sent from Rome, and that Senguinarius had slain him in self-defense. He also told his lieutenants and centurions that Nerva was sending a large force to destroy the cohort, and he prevailed upon them to follow up the Nylus in search of a new country, where they might establish themselves far from the malignant power of a jealous Caesar, and upon the following day the long march commenced. It so happened that shortly before this,

a fleet of 120 vessels landed at Mios Hormos, a port of Egyptus on the Sinus Arabius. This merchant fleet annually brought rich merchandise from the island of Taprobana, silk, the value of which was equal to its weight in gold, pearls, diamonds, and a variety of aromatics and other merchandise, which was transferred to the backs of camels and brought inland from Myos Hormos to the Nylos, and down that river to Alexandria whence it was shipped to Rome. With this caravan were hundreds of slaves from India and Far Cathay, and even light-skinned people captured in the distant northwest by Mongol raiders. The majority of these were young girls destined for the auction block at Rome, and it

chance that Sanguinarius met this caravan, heavy with riches and women, and captured it. During the ensuing five years, the cohort settled several times and what they hoped would prove a permanent camp, but it was not until the 853rd year of Rome that by accident they discovered the hidden canyon where now stands Castra sanguinarius. You find it interesting? inquired a voice from the doorway, and looking up Van Harbin saw Malleus Lepas standing on the threshold. "'Very,' said Eric.

Lepa shrugged his shoulders. "'We suspect that it would have been more interesting had the old assassin written the truth,' said Lepis. As a matter of fact, very little is known concerning his reign, which lasted for twenty years. He was assassinated in the year twenty, Anosanguinarii, which corresponds to the eight hundred seventy-third year of Rome. The old buck named the city after himself,

to create a calendar of his own and had his head stamped on gold coins, many of which are still in existence. Even today we use his calendar quite as much as that of our Roman ancestors, but in Castramare, we have tried to forget the example of sanguinarius as much as possible. What is this other city that I have heard mention so often, and that is called Castra sanguinarius? asked von Harbin. It is the original city founded by sanguinarius. replied Lepis. For a hundred years after the founding of the city, conditions grew more and

more intolerable until no man's life or property was safe, unless he was willing to reduce himself almost to the status of a slave, and continually fawn upon the emperor. It was then that Honus Hasta revolted, and led a few hundred families to this island at the eastern end of the valley, founding the city and the empire of Castromare. Here, for over seventeen hundred years, of these families have lived in comparative peace and security, but in an almost constant state of war with Castor sanguinarious. From mutual necessity, the two cities carry on a commerce that is often interrupted by raids and wars. The suspicion and hatred that the inhabitants of each city feel for the inhabitants of the other is fostered always by our emperors, each of whom

fears that friendly communication between the two cities would result in the overthrow of one of them. "'And now Castro Mare is happy and contented under Caesar?' asked Eric. "'That is a question that it might not be safe to answer honestly,' said Lepas with a shrug. "'If I'm going to the palace every day to write the history of Rome for Validas Augustus and receive from him the story of his reign,' said Van Harbin, "'it might be well if I knew something of the man. Otherwise, there is a chance for me to get into serious trouble, which might conceivably react upon you and Septimus Favonius,

whom Caesar has made responsible for me. If you care to forewarn me, I promise you that I shall repeat nothing that you may tell me. Lepus, leaning lightly against the wall by the doorway, played idly with the hilt of his dagger as he took thought before replying. Presently he looked up straight into Von Harbin's eyes. "'I shall trust you,' he said.

First, because there is that in you which inspires confidence, and second, because it cannot profit you to harm either Septimus Favonius or myself. Castramari is not happy with it, Caesar. He is arrogant and cruel, not like the Caesars to which Castramari has been accustomed. The last emperor was a kindly man, but at the time of his death, his brother, Validus Augustus, was chosen to succeed him because Caesar's son was at that time but a year old. This son of the former emperor, a nephew of Validus Augustus is called Cassius Hasta,

and because of his popularity he has aroused the jealousy and hatred of Augustus, who recently sent him away upon a dangerous mission to the west end of the valley. There are many who consider it virtual banishment, but Validus Augustus insists that this is not the fact. No one knows what Cassius Hasta's orders were. He went secretly by night, and was accompanied by only a few slaves. It is believed that he has been ordered to enter Castrasanguinarius as a spy, and if such is the case, his mission amounts practically to a sentence of death.

If this were known for a fact, the people would rise against Validas Augustus, for Cassius Hasta was the most popular man in Castramari. But enough, I shall not bore you with the same. sorrows of Castromare. Take your reading down into the garden, where in the shade of the trees, it is cooler than here, and I shall join you presently. As von Harbin lay stretched upon the sward beneath the shade of a tree in the cool garden of Septimus Favonius, his mind was not upon the history of sanguinarius, nor upon the political woes of Castromari, so much as they were upon plans for escape. As a scholar, an explorer, and an archaeologist, he would delight in

remaining here for such a time as might be necessary for him to make an exploration of the valley, and study the government and customs of its inhabitants. But to remain cooped up in the vault-like library of the Emperor of the East, writing the history of ancient Rome in Latin with a reed pen on papyrus rolls in no way appealed to him. The rustle of fresh linen and the soft fall of sandaled feet upon the graveled garden walk, interrupted his trend of thought. And as he looked up into the face of Favonia, daughter of Septimus Favonius, the history of ancient Rome, together with half-formulated plans for escape, were dissipated from his mind by the girl's sweet smile, as is a morning mist by the rising sun. End of Chapter X. Chapter 11 of Tarzan and the Lost Empire

by Edgar Rice Burroughs. This Liver Vox recording is in the public domain. Tarzan and the Lost Empire Chapter 11 As Maximus Preclerus led Tarzan of the Apes from the home of Dion Splendidus in the city of Castrasanguinarius, the soldiers, gathered by the doorway, voiced their satisfaction in oaths and exclamations. They liked the young patrician who commanded them, and they were proud that he should

have captured the wild barbarians single-handed. A command from Pecleris brought silence, and had a word from him they formed around the prisoner, and the march toward the Coliseum was begun. They had proceeded but a short distance, when Proclerus halted the detachment and went himself to the doorway of a house fronting on the avenue through which they were crossing. He halted before the door, stood in thought for a moment, and then turned back toward his detachment, as though he had changed his mind about entering. And Tarzan knew that the young officer was indicating to him the home in which he lived, and in which the ape-man might find

sanctuary later. Several hundred yards farther along the street, after they had resumed the march, Preclerus halted his detachment beneath the shade of great trees opposite a drinking fountain, which was built into the outside of a garden wall close beside an unusually large tree, which, overspreading the avenue upon one side and the wall on the other, intermingled its branches with those of other trees growing inside the garden beyond. Proclerus crossed the avenue and drank at the fountain, and returning, inquired by means of signs if Tarzan would drink. The ape-man nodded in assent, and Proclaris gave orders that he be permitted to cross to the fountain. Slowly Tarzan walked to the other side of the

avenue. He stooped and drank from the fountain. Beside him was the bowl of a great tree. Above him was the leafy foliage that would conceal him from the sight and protect him from the missiles of the soldiers. Turning from the fountain, a quick step took him behind the tree. One of the soldiers shouted a warning to Proclerus, and the whole detachment, immediately suspicious, leapt quickly across the avenue, led by the young patrician who commanded them. But when they reached the fountain and the tree, their prisoner had vanished.

shouting their disappointment, they gazed upward into the foliage, but there was no sign there of the barbarian. Several of the more active soldiers scrambled into the branches, and then Maximus Procleris, pointing in the direction opposite to that in which his home lay, shouted, "'This way! There he goes!' and started on a run down the avenue, while behind him strung his detachment, their pikes ready in their hands. Moving silently through the branches of the great trees that overhung the greater part of the city of Castra Sanguanarius, Tarzan paralleled the avenue leading back to the home of Maximus Procleras, halting at last in a tree that overlooked the inner courtyard or walled garden, which appeared to be a distinguishing feature of the

architecture of the city. Below him, he saw a matronly woman of the patrician class listening to a tall black who was addressing her excitedly, clustered about the woman and eagerly listening to the words of the speaker were a number of black slaves, both men and women. Tarzan recognized the speaker as Mpingu, and though he could not understand his words, realized that the black was preparing them for his arrival, in accordance with the instructions given him in the Garden of Dion Splendetus by Maximus Procleras. And that he was making a good story of it was evidenced by his excited gesticulation and the wide eyes and open mouths of the listening blacks.

The woman, listening attentively and with quiet dignity of mean, appeared to be slightly amused, but whether at the story itself or at the unrestrained excitement of Mpingu, Tarzan did not know. She was a regal-looking woman of about fifty, with graying hair and with the poison manner of that perfect self-assurance which is hallmark of assured position. That she was a patrician to her fingertips was evident, and yet there was that in her eyes and the little wrinkles at their corners that bespoke a broad humanity and a kindly disposition. Mpingo had evidently reached the point

where his vocabulary could furnish no adequate superlatives wherewith to describe the barbarian who had rescued his mistress from Faustus, and he was acting out in exaggerated pantomime the scene in the garden of his mistress, when Tarzan dropped lightly to the sword beside him. The effect upon the blacks of this unexpected appearance verged upon the ludicrous, but the white woman was unmoved to any outward sign of surprise.

"'Is this the barbarian?' she asked of Mpingu. "'It is he,' replied the black. "'Tell him that I am Festivetus, the mother of Maximus Perclaris,' the woman directed Npingu, "'and that I welcome him here in the name of my son.' Through Mpingu Tarzan acknowledged the greetings of Festivetus, and thanked for her hospitality, after which she instructed one of her slaves to conduct the stranger to the apartments that were placed at his disposal. It was late afternoon before Maximus Pocleras returned to his home, going immediately to Tarzan's apartments.

With him was the same black who had acted as interpreter in the morning. "'I am to remain here with you,' said the black to Tarzan, as your interpreter and servant. I ventured to say, said Procleris, through the interpreter, that this is the only spot in Castrasanguinarius that they have not searched for you, and there are three centuries combing the forests outside the city, though by this time Sublattus is convinced that you have escaped. We shall keep you here in hiding for a few days, when I think I can find the means to get you out of the city after dark.

The ape-man smiled. I can leave whenever I choose. He said, either by day or by night, but I do not choose to leave until I have satisfied myself that the man for whom I am searching is not here. But first, let me thank you for your kindness to me, the reason for which I cannot understand. That is easily explained, said Procleris. The young woman whom you save from attack this morning is Delecta, the daughter of Dion Splendidus. She and I are to be married. That, I think will explain my gratitude.

I understand, said Tarzan, and I am glad that I was fortunate enough to come upon them at the time that I did. Should you be captured again, it will not prove so fortunate for you, said Procleris. For the man from whom you saved Electa is Fastus, the son of Subladus, and now the emperor will have two indignities to avenge. But if you remain here, you will be safe. for our slaves are loyal, and there is little likelihood that you will be discovered. If I remain here, said Tarzan, and it should be discovered that you had befriended me,

would not the anger of the Emperor fall upon you? Maximus Procleris shrugged. I am daily expecting that, he said, not because of you, but because the son of the Emperor wishes to marry Delecta. Subladus needs no further excuse to destroy me. "'I should be no worse off were he to learn that I had befriended you than I am now.' "'Then perhaps I may be of service to you if I remain,' said Tarzan. "'I do not see how you can do anything but remain,' said Procleras.

"'Every man, woman, and child in Castra sanguinarius will be on the lookout for you, for Sublattis has offered a huge reward for your capture, and besides the inhabitants of the city, there are thousands of black barbarians outside the walls who will lay aside every other interest to run you down. Twice today you have seen how easily I can escape from the soldiers of Subladus, said Tarzan, smiling. Just as easily can I leave the city and elude the barbarians in the outer villages. Then why do you remain? demanded Procleris.

I came here searching for the son of a friend, replied Tarzan. Many weeks ago, the young man started out with an expedition to explore the Wiramasi Mountains in which your country is located. His people deserted him upon the outer slopes, and I am convinced that he is somewhere within the range, and very possibly, in this canyon. If he is here and alive, he will unquestionably come sooner or later to your city,

where, from the experience that I have gained, I am sure that he will receive anything but friendly treatment from your emperor. This is the reason that I wish to remain somewhere, in the vicinity. And now that you have told me that you are in danger, I may as well remain in your home. Where it is possible I may have an opportunity to reciprocate your kindness to me. If the son of your friend is in this end of the valley, he will be captured and brought to Castrasanguinarius,' said Maximus Procleras. And when that occurs I shall know of it, since I am detailed to duty at the Coliseum.

A mark of the disfavor of Sibladus, since this is the most distasteful duty to which an officer can be assigned. Is it possible that this man for whom I am searching might be in some other part of the valley? asked Tarzan. No, replied Procleris. There is only one entrance to the valley, that through which you were brought, and while there is another city at the eastern end, he could not reach it without passing through the forest surrounding Castrasanguinarius, in which event he would have been captured by the barbarians and turned over to Sublattus. Then I shall remain here, said Tarzan, for a time.

You shall be a welcome guest, replied Proclerus. For three weeks Tarzan remained in the home of Maximus Preclerus. Festavetus conceived a great liking for the Bronze Barbarian, and soon, tiring of carrying on conversation with him through an interpreter, she set about teaching him her own language, with the result that it was not long before Tarzan could carry on a conversation in Latin, nor did he lack opportunity to practice his new accomplishment, since Festivetus never tired of hearing stories of the outer world

and of the manners and customs of modern civilization. And while Tarzan of the apes waited in Castrasanguinaries for word that von Harbin had been seen in the valley, the man he sought was living the life of a young patrician attached to the court of the Emperor of the East, and though much of his time was pleasantly employed in the palace library, yet he chafed at the knowledge that he was virtually a prisoner, and was often formulating plans for escape,

plans that were sometimes forgotten when he sat beneath the spell of the daughter of Septimus Favonius. And often in the library he discovered only unadulterated pleasure in his work, and thoughts of escape were driven from his mind by discoveries of such jams as original Latin translations of Homer and of hitherto unknown manuscripts of Virgil, Cicero, and Caesar, manuscripts that dated from the days of the Young Republic and on down the centuries to include one of the early satires of juvenile. Thus the days passed, while far off in another world a frightened little monkeys scampered through the upper terraces of a distant forest. End of Chapter 11 Chapter 12 of Tarzan and the Lost Empire

by Edgar Rice Burroughs This Libervox recording is in the public domain Tarzan and the Lost Empire Chapter 12 A penchant for boasting is not the prerogative of any time or race or individual but is more or less common to all so it is not strange that Mpingu filled with the importance of the secret that he alone shared with his mistress and the household

of Maximus Procleras, should have occasionally dropped a word here and there that might impress his listeners with his importance. Mpingo meant no harm. He was loyal to the house of Dion Splendetus, and he would not willingly have brought harm to his master or his master's friend. But so it is often with people who talk too much, and Mipingo certainly had done that. The result of was that, upon a certain day, as he was bartering in the marketplace for provisions for the kitchen of Dion Splendidus, he felt a heavy hand laid upon his shoulder, and turning, he was astonished to find himself looking into the face of a centurion of the palace guard, behind whom stood a file of legionaries.

"'You are impingu, the slave of Dion Splendidus?' demanded the centurion. "'I am,' replied the black. "'Come with us,' commanded the centurion. Mpigou drew back afraid, as all men feared the soldiers of Caesar. "'What do you want of me?' he demanded. "'I have done nothing.' "'Come, barbarian,' ordered the soldier. "'I was not sent to confer with you, but to get you.'

And he jerked Mpingu roughly toward him and pushed him back among the soldiers. A crowd had gathered, as crowds gather always when a man is arrested, but the centurion ignored the crowd as though it did not exist, and the people fell aside as the soldiers marched away with Mpingu. No one questioned or interfered. For who would dare question an officer of Caesar? Who would interfere in behalf of a black slave? Mpingu thought that he would be taken to the dungeons beneath the Coliseum, which was the common jail in which all prisoners were confined. But presently he realized that his captors were not leading him in the in that direction, and when finally it dawned upon him that the palace was their goal, he

was filled with terror. Never before had Npingo stepped foot within the precincts of the palace grounds, and when the imperial gate closed behind him he was in a mental state bordering upon collapse. He had heard stories of the cruelty of Sablattus, of the terrible vengeance reeked upon his enemies, and he had visions that paralyzed his mind so that he was in a state of semi-consciousness, he was finally led into an inner chamber where a high dignitary of the court confronted him. This, said the centurion who had brought him, is Mpingu, the slave of Dion Splendidus, whom I was commanded to fetch to you.

Good, said the official. You and your detachment may remain while I question him. Then he turned upon Mpingu. Do you know the penalties one incurs for aiding the enemies of Caesar? He demanded. And Pingu's lower jaw moved convulsively as though he would reply, but he was unable to control his voice. "'They die!' growled the officer menacingly. "'They die terrible deaths that they will remember through all eternity.' "'I have done nothing,' cried Impingo, suddenly regaining control of his vocal cords.

"'Do not lie to me, barbarian,' snapped the official. "'You aided in the escape of the prisoner who called himself Tarzan, and even now you are hiding him from your emperor. I did not help him escape. I am not hiding him, wailed Impingu. You lie. You know where he is. You boasted of it to other slaves. Tell me where he is.

I do not know, said Impingu. If your tongue were cut out, you could not tell us where he is, said the Roman. If red-hot irons were thrust into your eyes, you could not see to lead us to his hiding-place. But if we find him without your help, and we surely shall find him, we shall need neither your tongue nor your eyes. Do you understand?

I do not know where he is, repeated Mpingu. The Roman turned away and struck a single blow upon a gong, after which he stood in silence until a slave entered the room in response to the summons. Fetched tongs, the Roman instructed the slave, and a charcoal brazier with burning irons. Be quick. After the slave had left, silence fell again upon the apartment. The official was giving impingu an opportunity to think, and Mpingu so occupied the time in thinking

that it seemed to him that the slave had scarcely left the apartment before he returned again with tongs and a lighted burner, from the glowing heart of which protruded the handle of a burning iron. Have your soldiers throw him to the floor and hold him. said the official to the centurion. It was evident to Mpingu that the end had come. The officer was not even going to give him another opportunity to speak. Wait, he shrieked.

Well, said the official, you are regaining your memory? I am only a slave, wailed Mpingu. I must do what my master's command. And what did they command? inquired the Roman. I was only an interpreter, said Mipingu. The white barbarians spoke the language of the big egos who are my people.

Through me they talked to him and he talked to them. And what was said? demanded the inquisitor. Mpingo hesitated, dropping his eyes to the floor. Come, quickly, snap the other. I have forgotten, said Nipingu. The officer nodded to the centurion. The soldier seized Nipingu and threw him roughly to the floor, four of them holding him there, once seated upon each,

each limb. The togs, directed the official, and the slave handed the instrument to the centurion. "'Wait!' screamed Mpingo. "'I will tell you!' "'Let him up,' said the official. And to Mpinku, "'this is your last chance. If you go down again, your tongue comes out and your eyes too.' "'I will talk,' said Mpingo. "'I did but interpret. That is all. I had nothing to do with helping him to escape or hiding him. If you tell us the truth, you will not be punished,

said the Roman. Where is the white barbarian? He is hiding in the home of Maximus Precleris, said Mpinku. What has your master to do with this? commanded the Roman. Dion Splendidas has nothing to do with it, replied Mipinco.

Maximus Precleris planned it. That is all, said the official to the centurion. "'Take him away and keep him under guard until you receive further orders. "'Be sure that he talks to no one.' A few minutes later, the official who had interrogated Mpingu entered the apartment of Siblottis, while the Emperor was in conversation with his son Fastus. "'I have located the white barbarian, Siblattis,' announced the official.

"'Good,' said the Emperor. "'Where is he?' "'In the home of Maximus Priclaris.' "'I might have suspected as much,' said Fastus. "'Who else is implicated?' asked to Blattis. "'He was caught in the courtyard of Dion Splendidus,' said Fastus. "'And the Emperor has heard, as we all have, "'that Dion Splendidus has long had eyes upon the imperial purple of the Caesars.'

"'The slave says that only Maximus Precleris is responsible for the escape of the barbarian,' said the official. "'He was one of Dion Splendidus' slaves, was he not?' demanded Fastus. "'Yes.' "'Then it is not strange that he would protect his master,' said Fastus. "'Arrest them all,' commanded Subladus. "'You mean Dionneplendidus, Maximus Proclerus, and the barbarian Tarzan?' asked the official. "'I mean those three and the entire household of Dionneplendidus and Maximus Procladus,

and Maximus Proclerus, replied Sublatus. Wait, Caesar, suggested Fastus. Twice already has the barbarian escaped from the legionaries. If he receives the slightest inkling of this, he will escape again. I have a plan. Listen. An hour later, a messenger arrived at the home of Dion Splendidus, carrying an invitation to the senator and his wife

to be the guests of a high court functionary that evening at a banquet. Another messenger went to the home of Maximus Procleras, with a letter urging the young officer to attend an entertainment being given that same evening by a rich young patrician. As both invitations had emanated from families high in favor with the emperor, they were, in effect, almost equivalent to commands, even to as influential a senator as Dion Splendidus. And so, there was no question, either in the minds of the hosts or in the minds of the guests, but that they would be accepted. Night had fallen upon Castra Sanguinarius.

Dion Splendidus and his wife were alighting from the litter before the home of their host, and Maximus Proclerus was already drinking with his fellow guests in the banquet hall of one of Castra Sanguinarius's wealthiest citizens. Fastus was there, too, and Maximus Proclerus was surprised and not a little puzzled at the friendly attitude of the prince. I always suspect something when FASTus smiles at me, he said to an intimate. In the home of Dion Splendetus, Delectus sat among her fellow slaves, while one of them told her stories of the wild African village from which she had come.

Tarzan and Festivetus sat in the home of Maximus Procleras, the Roman matron listening attentively to the stories of savage Africa and civilized Europe that she was constantly urging her strange guests to tell her. Faintly they heard a knock at the outer gate, and presently a slave came to the apartment where they sat to tell them that Mpingu, the slave of Dianne Splendidus, had come with a message for Tarzan. "'Bring him hither,' said Festavetus, and shortly Mpingo was ushered into the room. If Tarzan or Festavetus had known Mpengu better, they would have realized that he was under great nervous strain. But they did not.

not know him well, and so they saw nothing out of the way in his manner or bearing. "'I have been sent to fetch you to the home of Dion Splendidus,' said Npingu to Tarzan. "'That is strange,' said Festavetus. "'Your noble son stopped at the home of Dion Splendidus on his way to the banquet this evening, and as he left I was summoned and told to come hither and fetch the stranger to my master's house,' explained Pingu. "'That is all I know about the matter.' "'Maximus Procleris gave you those instructions himself?' asked Festivetus.

"'Yes,' replied Npingu. "'I do not know what his reason can be,' said Festivetus to Tarzan. "'But there must be some very good reason, or he would not run the risk of your being caught.' "'It is very dark out,' said Npingu. "'No one will see him.' "'There is no danger,' said Tarzan to Festavetus. "'Maximus Proclerus would not have sent for me unless it were necessary. "'Come, Mipingu!'

And he arose, bidding Festivetus goodbye. Tarzan and Mpingu had proceeded but a short distance down the avenue, when the black motioned the ape-man to the side of the street, where a small gate was led into a solid wall. "'We are here,' said Mipingu. "'This is not the home of Dion Splendetus,' said Tarzan, immediately suspicious. Mpingo was surprised that this stranger should so well remember the location of a house that he had visited but once, and that more than three weeks since.

But he did not know the training that had been the eight-mans through the long years of moving through the trackless jungle that had trained his every sense and faculty to the finest point of orientation. "'It is not the main gate,' replied Mpingu quickly. "'But Maximus Perclaris did not think it's safe that you be seen entering the main gate of the home of Dion Splendidus, in the event that, by any chance, you were observed. This way leads into a lane that might connect with any one of several homes, and once in it there is little or no chance of apprehension.

I see, said Tarzan. Lead the way. Mpingu opened the gate and motioned Tarzan in ahead of him, and as the eight-men passed through into the blackness beyond, there fell upon him what seemed to be a score of men, and he was born down in the same instant that he realized that he had been betrayed. So rapidly did his assailant's work that it was a matter of seconds only before the eight men found shackles upon his wrists, the one thing that he feared and hated most.

End of Chapter 12. Chapter 13 of Tarzan and the Lost Empire by Edgar Rice Burroughs. This Libervox recording is in the public domain. Tarzan and the Lost Empire Chapter 13 While Eric Van Harbin Woot Favonia beneath the summer moon in the Garden of Septimus Favonius

in the island city of Castramare A detachment of the brown legionaries of Subladus Imperator dragged Tarzan of the Apes and Mpingu the black slave of Dion Splendetus to the dungeons beneath the Colosseum of Castra Sanuarius And far to the south, a little monkey shivered from cold and terror in the topmost branches of a jungle giant, while Sheeta the panther crept softly through the black shadows far below. In the banquet hall of his host, Maximus Procleras reclined upon a sofa far down the board

from Fastus, the guest of honor. The prince, his tongue loosed by frequent draughts of native wine, seemed in unusually good spirits, radiating self-suffeastern. satisfaction. Several times he had brought the subject of conversation around to the strange white barbarian, who had insulted his sire and twice escaped from the soldiers of Subladus. "'He would never have escaped from me that day,' he boasted, throwing a sneer in the direction of Maximus Proclerus, nor from any other officer who is loyal to Caesar. "'You had him, Fastus, in the Garden of Dion Splendidus,' retorted Proclerus. "'Why did you not hold him?'

Fastus flushed. "'I shall hold him this time,' he blurted. "'This time?' Query Procleris. "'He has been captured again?' "'There was nothing in either the voice or expression of the young patrician of more than polite interest, though the words of Fastus had come with all the unexpected suddenness of lightning out of a clear sky.

"'I mean,' explained Fastus in some confusion, that, if he is again captured, I personally shall see that he does not escape. But his words did not allay the apprehensions of Perclarus. All through the long dinner, Perclarus was cognizant of a sensation of foreboding. There was a menace in the air that was apparent in the veiled hostility of his host and several others who were cronies of FASTus. As early as was seemly, he made his excuses and departed. armed slaves accompanied his litter through the dark avenues of Castra sanguinarius, where robbery

and murder slunk among the shadows hand in hand with the criminal element that had been permitted to propagate itself without restraint. And when at last he came to the doorway at his home and had alighted from his litter, he paused and a frown of perplexity clouded his face, as he saw that the door stood partially ajar, though there was no slave there to receive him. The house seemed unusually quiet and lifeless. The nightlight, which ordinarily a slave kept burning in the forecourt when a member of the household was away, was absent. For an instant, Perclarus hesitated upon the threshold, and then, throwing his cloak back from his shoulders to free his arms, he pushed the door open and stepped within.

In the banquet hall of a high court functionary, the guests yawned behind their hands from boredom, but none dared leave while Caesar remained. the Emperor was a guest there that evening. It was late when an officer brought a message to Subladus, a message that the Emperor read with a satisfaction he made no effort to conceal. "'I have received an important message,' said Sublatus to his host, upon a matter that interests the noble Senator Dion Splendetus and his wife. It is my wish that you withdraw with the other guests, leaving us three here alone.' When they had gone, he turned to you. He turned to turned to Dion Splendetus.

"'It has been long rumored Splendetus,' he remarked, "'that you aspire to the purple.' "'A false rumor, Sublattus, as you should well know,' replied the senator. "'I have reasons to believe otherwise,' said Sublattis shortly. "'There cannot be two Caesar, Splendidus, and you well know the penalty for treason.' "'If the emperor has determined, for personal reasons, or for any reason whatever, to destroy me, argument will avail me nothing, said Splenditas haughtily. "'But I have other plans,' said Subladus.

"'P plans that might be overturned should I cause your death?' "'Yes,' inquired Splendidis politely. "'Yes,' assented Subladus. "'My son wishes to marry your daughter, Delecta, and it is also my wish, for thus would the two most powerful families of Castra-Sanguinarius be united. and the future of the empire assured. But our daughter Delecta is betrothed to another, said Splendidus. To Maximus Precleris? inquired Sublattus.

Yes, replied the senator. Then let me tell you that she shall never wed Maximus Preclerus, said the emperor. Why? inquired Splendetus. Because Maximus Precleris is about to die. "'I do not understand,' said Splendidas. "'Perhaps when I tell you that the white barbarian Tarzan has been captured, you will understand why Priclaris is about to die,' said Sublattus with a sneer. Dion Splendidus shook his head negatively.

"'I regret,' he said, "'that I do not follow Caesar.' "'I think you do, Splendetus,' said the Emperor. "'But that is neither here nor there, since it is Caesar's will that there be no breath of suspicion upon the sire of the next empress of Castra sanguinarius. So permit me to explain what I am sure that you already know. After the white barbarian escaped from my soldiers, he was found by Maximus Perclarus in your garden. My son Fastus witnessed the capture. One of your own slaves acted as interpreter

between the barbarian and Maximus, who arranged the barbarian should escape and take refuge in the home of Maximus. Tonight he was found there and captured, and Maximus Preclares have been placed under arrest. They are both in the dungeons beneath the Coliseum. It is improbable that these things should have transpired entirely without your knowledge, but I shall let it pass if you give your word that Delecta shall marry fastest. During the entire history of Castra sanguinarius, said Dionne Splendidus, "'It has been our boast that our daughters have been free to choose their own husbands.

Not even a Caesar might command a free woman to marry against her will.' "'That is true,' replied Subladus. "'And for that very reasons I do not command. I am only advising.' "'I cannot answer for my daughter,' said Splendidus. "'Let the son of Caesar do his own wooing as becomes the men of Castrasanguinarius.' Sub Bladus arose. I am only advising, but his tone belied his words. The noble senator and his wife may retire to their home

and give thought to what Caesar has said. In the course of a few days, fastest will come for his answer. By the light of the torch that illuminated the interior of the dungeon and to which he was thrust by his captors, Tarzan saw white man and several blacks chained to the walls. Among the blacks was Lukiti, but when he recognized Tarzan, he evinced only the faintest sign of interest, so greatly had his confinement weighed upon his mind and altered him. The ape-man was chained next to the only other white in the dungeon,

and he could not help but notice the keen interest that this prisoner took in him from the moment that he entered until the soldiers withdrew, taking the torch with them, leaving the dungeon in darkness. As had been his custom while he was in the home of Maximus Proclerus, Tarzan had worn only his loincloth and leopard skin, with a toga and sandals out of courtesy for Festavetus when he appeared in her presence. This evening, when he started out with Mpingu, he had worn the toga as a disguise. But in the scuffle that preceded his capture, it had been torn from him,

with the result that his appearance was sufficient to arouse the curiosity of his fellow prisoners, and as soon as the guards were out of hearing, the man spoke to him. "'Can it be,' he asked, "'that you are the white barbarian, "'whose fame has penetrated even to the gloom and silence of the dungeon?' "'I am Tarzan of the apes,' replied the ape-man. "'And you carried Sub-Bladus out of his palace above your head "'and mocked at his soldiers!' exclaimed the other.

"'By the ashes of my imperial father, "'Subladus will see that you die the death.' Tarzan may no reply. "'They say you run through the trees like a monkey,' said the other. "'How then did you permit yourself to be recaptured?' "'It was done by treachery,' replied Tarzan, "'and the quickness with which they lock the shackles upon me. "'Without these,' and he shook the manacles upon his wrists,

"'they could not hold me.' "'But who are you, and what did you do to get yourself in the dungeons of Caesar?' "'I am in the dungeon of no Caesar,' replied the other. "'This creature who sits upon the throne of Castra sanguinarius is no Caesar.' "'Who then is Caesar?' inquired Tarzan. "'Only the emperors of the East are entitled to be called Caesar,' replied the other. "'I take it that you are not of Castra sanguinarius, then,' suggested the ape-man. "'No,' replied the other.

"'I am from Castromare.' "'And why are you a prisoner?' asked Tarzan. "'Because I am from Castrumare,' replied the other. "'Is that a crime in Castra Sanguerius?' asked the ape-man. "'We are always enemies,' replied the other. "'We trade occasionally under a flag of truce, "'for we have things that they want, and they have things that we must have. "'But there is much raiding, and often there are wars,

and then, whichever side is victorious, takes the things by force that otherwise they would be compelled to pay for. "'In this small valley, what is there that one of you may have that the other one has not already?' asked the ape-man. "'We of Castromare have the iron mines,' replied the other. "'And we have the papyrus swamps and the lake, which gives us many things that the people of Castra-sanguinarius can obtain only from us. We sell them iron and paper, ink, snails, fish, and jewels, and many manufactured articles.

In their end of the valley, they mine gold, and as they control the only entrance to the country from the outside world, we are forced to obtain our slaves through them, as well as new breeding stock for our herds. As the sanguinarians are naturally thieves and raiders, and are too lazy to work and too ignorant to teach their slaves how to produce things, they depend entirely upon their gold mine and their raiding and trading with the outer world. While we, who have developed many skilled artisans, have been in a position for many generations that permitted us to obtain much more gold and many more slaves than we need in return for our manufactured articles.

Today we are much richer than the sanguinarians. We live better. We are more cultured. We are happier, and the sanguinarians are jealous, and their hatred of us has increased. "'Knowing these things?' asked Tarzan. "'How is it that you came to the country of your enemies and permitted yourself to be captured?' "'I was delivered over treacherously into the hands of Sabladus

by my uncle, Validas Augustus, Emperor of the East,' replied the other. "'My name is Cassius Hasta, and my father was Emperor before Valetus. "'Valetus is afraid that I may wish to seize the purple, and for this reason he plotted to get rid of me without assuming any responsibility for the act. So he conceived the idea of sending me upon a military mission, after bribing one of the servants who accompanied me to deliver me into the hands of Sibladus. What will Siblattis do with you? asked Tarzan. The same thing that he will do with you, replied Cassius Hasta.

We shall be exhibited in the triumph of Siblattis, which he holds annually, and then, in the arena, we shall amuse them until we are slain." "'And when does this take place?' asked Tarzan. "'It will not be long now,' replied Cassius Hasta. "'Already they have collected so many black prisoners to exhibit in the triumph and to take part in the combats in the arena that they are forced to confine blacks and whites in the same dungeons, a thing they do not ordinarily do.'

"'Are these blacks held here for this purpose?' asked the ape-man. Yes, replied the other. Tarzan turned in the direction of Lukiti, whom he could not see in the darkness. Lukiti, he called. What is it? asked the black listlessly. You are well? asked Tarzan.

I am going to die, replied Lukiti. They will feed me to the lions, or burn me upon a cross, or make me fight with other warriors, so that it will be all the same for Lukidi. It was a sad day when Yuto, the chief, captured Tarzan. Are all these blacks from your village? asked Tarzan. No, replied Dukiti. Most of them are from the villages outside the walls of Castrasanguinarius.

Yesterday they called us their own people, spoke up a black who understood the language of the big ego, and tomorrow they will make us kill one another to entertain Caesar. You must be very few people. in numbers or very poor in spirit, said Tarzan, that you submit to such treatment. We number nearly twice as many as the people in the city, said the black, and we are brave warriors. Then you are fools, said Tarzan. We shall not be fools forever. Already there are many who would rise against Subladus and the whites of Castra sanguonarius. The blacks of the city as well as the

blacks of the outer villages hate Caesar, said in Pinku, who had been brought to the dungeon with Tarzan. The statements of the blacks furnished food for thought to Tarzan. He knew that in the city there must be hundreds and perhaps thousands of black slaves, and many thousands of blacks in the outer villages. If a leader should arise among them, the tyranny of Caesar might be brought to an abrupt end. He spoke of the matter to Cassius Hasta, but the patrician assured him, that no such leader would ever arise. We have dominated them for so many centuries, he explained, that fear of us is an inherited instinct.

Our blacks will never arise against their masters. But if they did, asked Tarzan. Unless they had a white leader, they could not succeed, replied Hasta. And why not a white leader, then? asked Tarzan. That is unthinkable. replied Hasta. Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a detachment of soldiers, and as they halted before the entrance to the dungeon and threw open the gate,

Tarzan saw, in the light of their torches, that they were bringing in another prisoner. As they dragged the man in, he recognized Maximus Proclerus. He saw that Procleros recognized him, but as the Roman did not address him, Tarzan kept silent, too. The soldiers chained Perclaris to the wall, and after they had left and the dungeon was in darkness again, the young officer spoke. "'I see now why I am here,' said Perclaris. But even when they set upon me and arrested me in the vestibule of my home, I had guessed as much, after piecing together the insinuations of Fassus at the banquet this evening.

"'I have been fearful that by befriending me you would bring disaster upon yourself,' said Tars. Anne. "'Do not reproach yourself,' said Procleris. "'Fastus of Sublatus would have found another excuse. "'I have been doomed from the moment that the attention of Fastus fixed itself upon Delecta. To attain his end it was necessary that I be destroyed. "'That is all, my friend, but yet I wonder who it could have been that betrayed me.' "'It was I,' said a voice out of the darkness. "'Who is that that speaks?'

demanded Procleris. "'It is Mpingu,' said Tarzan. "'He was arrested with me when we were on the way to the home of Dion Splendidas to meet you.' "'To meet me!' exclaimed Precleras. "'I lied,' said Mpingu, "'but they made me.' "'Who made you?' demanded Procleras. "'The officers of Caesar and Caesar's son,' replied Mpingu.

"'They dragged me to the palace of the emperor, and held me down upon my back and brought tongs to tear out my tongue and hot irons to burn out my eyes. Oh, master, what else could I do? I am only a poor slave, and I was afraid, and Caesar is very terrible. I understand, said Precleris, I do not blame you in Pingu. But they promised to give me my liberty, said the black, but instead they have chained me in this dungeon. Doubtless I shall die in the arena, but that I did not. fear. It was the tongs and the red-hot irons that made me a coward. Nothing else could have forced me to betray the friend of my master. There was little comfort upon the cold, hard stones of the dungeon

floor, but Tarzan, inured to hardship from birth, slept soundly until the coming of the jailer with food awakened him several hours after sunrise. Water and coarse bread were doled out to the inmates of the dungeon by slaves in charge of a surly half-cast in the uniform of the of a legionary. As he ate, Tarzan surveyed his fellow prisoners. There was Cassius Hasta of Castromare, son of a Caesar, and Maximus Proclerus, a patrician of Castra Sanuinarius and captain of legionaries. These with himself were the only whites.

There was Lucchiti, the Begigo, who had befriended him in the village of Newtto, and Impingo the black slave of Dion Splendidus who had betrayed him, And now, in the light from the little barred window, he recognized also another big ego, Ogunyo, who still cast fearful eyes upon Tarzan, as one might upon any person who was on familiar terms with the ghost of one's grandfather. In addition to these three blacks, there were five strapping warriors from the outer villages of Castor Sanguanarius, picked men, chosen because of their superb physiques for the gladiatorial contests that would form so important a part of the games that would shortly take place in

the arena for the glorification of Caesar and the edification of the masses. The small room was so crowded that there was barely space upon the floor for the eleven to stretch their bodies, yet there was one vacant ring in the stone wall, indicating that the full capacity of the dungeon had not been reached. Two days and nights dragged slowly by. The inmates of the cell amused themselves as best they could, though the blacks were too downcast to take a lively interest in anything other than their own sad forebodings. Tarzan talked much with these, and especially with the Five Warriors from the Outer Villages. From long experience with them he knew the minds and the hearts of black men, and it was not difficult for him to win

their confidence, and presently he was able to instill within them something of his own courageous self-reliance, which could never accept or admit absolute defeat. He talked with Perclarus about Castra sanguinarius, and with Cassius Hasta about Castro Mari. He learned all that they could tell him about the forthcoming triumph and games, about the military methods of their people, their laws and their customs, until he, who all his life had been accounted taciturn, might easily have been indicated for loquacity by his fellow prisoners, Yet, though they may not realize it, he asked them nothing without a well-defined purpose.

Upon the third day of his incarceration, another prisoner was brought to the crowded cell in which Tarzan was chained. He was a young white man in the tunic and cuirass of an officer. He was received in silence by the other prisoners, as seemed to be the custom among them. But after he had been fastened to the remaining ring and the soldiers who had brought him had departed, Cache's Hasta greeted him with suppressed excitement. "'Sacelius Mattelis!' he exclaimed. The other turned in the direction of Hasta's voice, his eyes not yet accustomed to the gloom of the dungeon.

"'Hasta!' he exclaimed. "'I would know that voice, were I to hear it rising from the blackest depths of Tardis.' "'What ill-fortune brought you here?' demanded Hasta. "'It is no ill-fortune that unites me with my best friend, replied Mattelis. But tell me how it happened, insisted Cassius Hasta. Many things have happened since you left Castro Mare, replied Mattelis. Fovas has warmed his way into the favor of the emperor to such an extent that all of your

former friends are under suspicion and in actual danger. Marius Lepis is in prison. Septimus Favonius is out of favor with the emperor and would be in prison himself, were it not that Phupas was in love with Favonia, his daughter. But the most outrageous news that I have to communicate to you is that Valides Augustus has adopted Fulvis Phupus, and has named him as his successor to the Imperial Purple. "'Fupus? A Caesar?' cried Hasta in derision. "'And sweet Favonia? It cannot be that she favors Fulvas Phupus.'

"'No,' replied Mateles, and that fact lies at the bottom of all the trouble. She loves another, and Phupas, in his desire to possess her, has utilized the emperor's jealousy of you to destroy every obstacle that stands in his way. "'And whom does Favonia love?' asked Cassius Hasta. "'It cannot be Malius Lepis, her cousin.' "'No,' replied Matelis. "'It is a stranger, one whom you have never known.' "'How can that be?' demanded Cassius Hasta.

"'Do I not know every patrician in Castramare? He is not of Castramare. Not a sanguinarian? demanded Cassius Hosta. No, he is a barbarian chieftain from Germania. What nonsense is this? demanded Hasta.

I speak the truth, replied Mateles. He came shortly after you departed from Castamari. And being a scholar well-versed in the history of ancient and modern Rome, he won the favor of Alidas Augustus. but he brought ruin upon himself and upon Malius Lepus and upon Septimus Favonius by winning the love of Favonia, and with it the jealous hatred of Fulvas Phupus. "'What is his name?' asked Cassius Hasta. "'He calls himself Eric von Harbin,' replied Mattelis.

"'Erik von Harbin,' repeated Tarzan. "'I know him. Where is he now? Is he safe?' Cecilius Mattelus turned his eyes in the direction of the ape-man. "'How do you know Eric von Harbin, Sanguinarian?' he demanded. Perhaps then the story that Fulvis Phupas told Valides Augustus is true, that this Eric von Harbin is in reality a spy from Castrasanguinarius. "'No,' said Maximus Procleras, "'do not excite yourself.'

"'This Eric von Harbin has never been in Castra Sanguerius, and my friend here is not himself a sanguinarian. He is a white barbarian from the outer world, and if his story be true, and I have no reason to doubt it, he came here in search of this Eric von Harbin. You may believe this story, Mattelis, said Cassius Hasta. These both are honorable men, and since we have been in prison together, we have become good friends.

What they tell you is the truth. Tell me something of Van Harbin, insisted Tarzan. "'Where is he now? And is he in danger from the machinations of this Fulvis Phupus?' "'He is in prison with Malius Lepis and Castramare,' replied Mattelis. "'And if he survives the games, which he will not, Phupus will find some other means to destroy him.'

"'When are the games held?' asked Tarzan. "'They start upon the aides of August,' replied Cassius Hasta. And it is now about the nuns of August, said Tarzan. Tomorrow, corrected Precleris. We shall know it then, said Cassius Hasta, for that is the date set for the triumph of Soblades. I am told that the games last about a week, said Tarzan. How far is it to Costa Mari?

Perhaps an eight-hour's march for fresh troops, said Cecilius Mattelis. But why do you ask? Are you planning on making a trip to Castromare? Tarzan noted the other's smile and the ironic tone of his voice. I am going to Costa Mari, he said. Perhaps you will take us with you, laughed Mattelis. Are you a friend of Van Harbin? asked Tarzan. I am a friend of his friends and an enemy of his enemies,

but I do not know him well enough to say that he is my friend. But you have no love for Validas Augustus, the Emperor? asked Tarzan. No, replied the other. And I take it that Cassius Hasta has no reason to love his uncle either, continued Tarzan. You are right, said Hasta. Perhaps I shall take you both, then, said Tarzan.

The two men laughed. We shall be ready to go with you when you are ready to take us, said Cassius Hasta. "'You may count me and on the party, too,' said Maximus Procleris. "'If Cassius Hasta will remain my friend in Castromare, "'that I promise, Maximus Proclaris,' said Cassius Hasta. "'When do we leave?' demanded Mattelis, shaking his chain. "'I can leave the moment that these shackles are struck from me,' said the ape-man. "'And that they must do when they turn me into the arena to fight.'

"'There will be many legionaries to see that. that you do not escape, you may rest assured of that, Cassius Hosta reminded him. Maximus Procleras will tell you that I have twice escaped from the legionaries of Siblades, said Tarzan. That he has, declared Proclerus. Surrounded by the Emperor's guard, he escaped from the very throne-room of Sablottis, and he carried Caesar above his head through the length of the palace and out into the Avenue beyond. But if I am to take you with me, it will be more difficult, said the ape-man. And I would take you because it would please me to frustrate the plans of Sibladas,

and also because two of you, at least, could be helpful to me in finding Eric von Harbin in the city of Castramare. You interest me, said Cassius Hasta. You almost make me believe that you can accomplish this mad scheme. End of Chapter 13 Chapter 14 of Tarzan and the Lost Empire by Edgar Rice Burroughs.

This Libervox recording is in the public domain. Tarzan and the Lost Empire Chapter 14 A great sun, rising into a cloudless sky, ushered in the nuns of August. It looked down upon the fresh-raked sands of the deserted arena, upon the crowds that lined the Via Prince Palace that bisected Castra sanguinarius.

Brown artisans and tradesmen and their smart tunics jostled one another for places of vantage along the shady avenue. Among them moved black barbarians from the outer villages, sporting their finest feathers and most valued ornaments and skins, and mingling with the others were the slaves of the city, all eagerly waiting for the pageant that would inaugurate the triumph of Subladus. Upon the low rooftops of their homes, the patricians reclined upon rugs at every point where the avenue might be seen between or beneath the branches of trees. All castra sanguinarius was there, technically to honor Caesar, but actually merely to be entertained. They are buzzed with talk

and laughter, hawkers of sweetmeats and trinkets elbowed through the crowd crying their wares. Legionaries posted at intervals the full distance from the palace to the Coliseum, kept the center of the avenue clear. Since the evening of the preceding day, the throng had been gathering. During the cold night they had huddled with close-drawn cloaks. There had been talk and laughter and brawls and near riots, and many would-be spectators have been hailed off to the dungeons

where their exuberance might be permitted to cool against cold stone. As the morning dragged on, the crowd became restless. At first, as some patriced, who was to have a part in the pageant passed in his ornate litter, he would be viewed in respectful and interested silence, or if he were well known and favorably thought of by the multitude, he might be greeted with cheers. But with the passing of time and the increasing heat of the day, each occasional litter that passed elicited deep-throated groans, or raucous cat-calls as the patience and the temper of the mob became thinner. But presently, from afar, in the direction of

the palace sounded the martial notes of trumpets. The people forgot their fatigue and their discomfort as the shrill notes galvanized them into joyous expectancy. Slowly along the avenue came the pageant, led by a score of trumpeters, behind whom marched a maniple of the Imperial Guard. Waving crest surmounted their burnished helmets, metal of two hundred cuirasses, pikes, and shields shot back the sunlight that filtered through the streets beneath which they marked. They made a proud showing as they strode haughtily between the lines of admiring eyes, led by the patrician officers in gold and embossed leather and embroidered linen. As the legionaries passed, a great shout of applause arose.

A roar of human voices that started at the palace rolled slowly along the Via Prince of Palace toward the Coliseum as Caesar himself, resplendent and purple and gold, rode alone in a chariot drawn by lions led on golden leashes by huge black. acts. Caesar may have expected for himself the plaudits of the populace, but there was a question as to whether these were elicited as much by the presence of the Emperor as by the sight of the captives chained to Caesar's chariot, for Caesar was an old story to the people of Castrasanguinarius, while the prisoners were a novelty, and furthermore something that promised rare sport in the arena. Never before in the memory of the citizens of Castra sanguinarius,

had an emperor exhibited such noteworthy captives in his triumph. There was Nuto, the black chief of the Begigos. There was Cecilius Mattelus, a centurion of the legions of the Emperor of the East, and Cassius Hasta, the nephew of that emperor. But perhaps he who aroused their greatest enthusiasm, because of the mad stories that have been narrated of his feats of strength and agility, was the great white barbarian, with a shock of black hair and his well-worn leopard skin.

The collar of gold and the golden chain that held him in leash to the chariot of Caesar, curiously enough imparted to his appearance no suggestion of fear or humiliation. He walked proudly with head erect, a lion tethered to lions. And there was that in the easy sinuosity of his stride that accentuated his likeness to the jungle beasts that drew the chariot of Caesar along the broad Via Principales of Castra sanguinarius. As the pageant moved its length slowly to the Coliseum, the crowd found other things to hold their interest. There were the Begigo captives chained neck to neck, and stalwart gladiators

were splendid in new armor. White men and brown men were numbered among these, and many black warriors from the outer villages. To the number of two hundred they marched, captives, condemned criminals and professional gladiators. But before them and behind them, and on either side, marched veteran legionaries, whose present spoke in no uncertain terms of the respect in which Caesar held the potential power of these bitter, savage fighting men. There were floats depicting historic events in the history of Castrasanguinarius and ancient Rome. There were litters bearing the high officers of the court and the senators of the city, while bringing up the rear where the captured flocks and herds of the big egos. That sublattus failed to exhibit Maximus Preclerus in his

triumph evidenced the popularity of this noble young Roman. But Delecta, watching the procession from the roof of her father's house, was filled with anxiety when she noted the absence of her lover, for she knew that sometimes men who enter the dungeons of Caesar were never heard of more. But there was none who could tell her whether Maximus Proclerus lived or not, and so, with her mother, she made her way to the Coliseum to witness the opening of the games. Her heart was heavy, lest she should see Maximus Proclerus entered there, and his blood upon the white sand. Yet also she feared that she might not see him, and thus be faced by the almost definite assurance that he had been secretly done to death by the agents of Fastus.

A great multitude had gathered in the Coliseum to witness the entry of Caesar and the pageant of his triumph, and the majority of these remained in their seats for the opening of the games, which commenced early in the afternoon. It was not until then that the sections reserve for the patricians began to fill. The Loge reserve for Dion Splenditas, the senator, was close to that of Caesar. It afforded an excellent view of the arena, and with cushions and rugs was so furnished as to afford the maximum comfort to those who occupied it. Never had a Caesar essayed so pretentious effect. Entertainment of the rarest description was vouchsafed each lucky spectator,

yet never before in her life had delected loathed and dreaded any occurrence, as she now loathed and dreaded the games that were about to open. Always her interest in the contestants had been impersonal. Professional gladiators were not of the class to come within the ken or acquaintance of the daughter of a patrician. The black warriors and slaves were to her of no greater importance than the beasts against which they sometimes contended, while the condemned criminals, many of whom expiated their sins within the arena, aroused within her heart only the remotest suggestion of sympathy. She was a sweet and lovely girl, whose sensibilities would doubtless have been shocked by the brutality of the prize-ring or a varsity football game,

but she could look upon the bloody cruelties of a Roman arena without a qualm, because by custom and heredity they had become a part of the national life of her people. But today, she trembled. She saw the Games as a personal menace to her own happiness and the life of one she loved. Yet by no outward sign did she divulge her perturbation. Calm, serene, and entirely beautiful, Delecta, the daughter of Dion Splendidus, awaited the signal for the opening of the games that was marked by the arrival of Caesar. Sublattus came, and after he had taken his seat there emerged from one of the barred gates at the far end of the arena, the head of a procession, again led by trumpeters, who

were followed by those who were to take part in the games during the week. It consisted for the most part of the same captives who had been exhibited in the pageant, to which were added a number of wild beasts, some of which were led or dragged along by black slaves, while others, more powerful and ferocious, were drawn in wheeled cages. These consisted principally of lions and leopards, but there were also a couple of bull buffaloes and several cages in which were confined huge, man-like apes. The participants were formed in a solid phalanx facing sublattus, where they were addressed by the Emperor, freedom and reward being promised the victors.

then, sullen and lowering, they were herded back to their dungeons and cages. Delecta's eyes scanned the faces of the contestants as they stood in solid rank before the loge of Caesar, but nowhere among them could she discover Maximus Proclerus. Breathless and tense, with fearful apprehension, she leaned forward in her seat across the top of the arena wall as a man entered the loge from behind and sat upon the bench beside her. "'He is not there,' said the man. The girl turned quickly toward the speaker. "'Fastus!' she exclaimed.

"'How do you know that he is not there?' "'It is by my order,' replied the prince. "'He is dead,' cried Delecta. "'You have had him killed.' "'No,' denied Fastus. "'He is safe in his cell.' "'What is to become of him?' asked the girl. "'His fate lies in your hand.

"'Replyed Fastus. "'Give him up and promise to become the wife of Fassus, "'and I will see that he is not forced to appear in the arena.' "'He would not have it so,' said the girl. "'Fastus shrugged. "'As you will,' he said, "'but remember that his life is in your hands.' "'With sword or dagger or pike he has no equal,' said the girl proudly.

"'If he were entered in the contest, he would be victorious. Caesar has been known to pit unarmed men against lions, Fastus reminded her tauntingly. Of what avail then is prowess with any weapon. That would be murder, said Delicta. A harsh term to apply to an act of Caesar, returned Fastus menacingly.

I speak my mind, said the girl, Caesar or no Caesar? It would be a cowardly and contemptuously. act, but I doubt not that either Caesar or his son is capable of even worse. Her voice trembled with scathing contempt. With a crooked smile upon his lips, fastest arose. "'It is not a matter to be determined without thought,' he said, and your answer concerns not Maximus Perclaris alone, nor you, nor me.

"'What do you mean?' she asked. "'There are Dian Splendidus, and you. and your mother, and Festivetus, the mother of Precleris! And with this warning he turned and left the loge. The games progressed amid the din of trumpets, the crash of arms, the growling of beasts, and the murmuring of the great audience that sometimes rose to wild acclaim

or deep-throated menacing disapproval. Beneath fluttering banners and waving scarfs, the cruel, terrible thousand-eyed thing that is a crowd looked down upon the blood and suffering of its fellow men, munching sweetmeats while a victim died and cracking coarse jokes as slaves dragged the body from the arena and raked clean sand over crimson spots. Sublattus had worked long and carefully with the prefect in charge of the games, that the resultant program might afford the greatest possible entertainment for Caesar and the populace, thus winning for the emperor a certain popularity that his own personality did not command. Always the most popular events were those in which men of the patrician class participated,

and so he counted much upon Cassius Hasta and Sassiz Mateles. But of even greater value for his purpose was the giant white barbarian, who already had captured the imagination of the people because of his exploits. Wishing to utilize Tarzan in as many events as possible, Sublattis knew that it would be necessary to reserve the more dangerous ones for the latter part of the week. And so upon the first afternoon of the Games, Tarzan found himself thrust into the arena, unarmed, in company with a burly murderer, whom the Master of the Games had clothed in loincloth and leopard skin similar to Tarzan. A guard escorted them

across the arena and halted them in the sand below the Emperor, where the Master of the Games announced that these two would fight with bare hands in any way that they saw fit, and that he who remained alive or alone in the arena at the end of the combat would be considered victorious. "'The gate to the dungeons will be left open,' he said. "'And if either contestant gets enough, he may quit the arena, but whoever does so forfeits the contest to the other.' The crowds booed. It was not to see such tame exhibitions as this that they had come to the Coliseum.

They wanted blood. They wanted thrills, but they waited, for perhaps. this contest might afford comedy. That they enjoyed, too. If one greatly outclassed the other, it would be amusing to see the weaker seek escape. They cheered Tarzan, and they cheered the low-browed murderer. They shouted insults at the noble patrician, who was master of the games, for they knew the safety and irresponsibility of numbers. As the word was given the contestants to engage one another, Tarzan turned to face the low-browed, hulking brute, against whom he had been pitted, and he saw that someone had been at pains to select a worthy antagonist for him.

The man was so much shorter than Tarzan, but great hard muscles bulge beneath his brown hide, bulking so thick across his back and shoulders as almost to suggest deformity. His long arms hung almost to his knees, and his thick, gnarled leg suggested a man of bronze upon a pedestal of granite. The fellow circled Tarzan, looking for an opening. He scowled ferociously, as though to frighten his adversary. There is the gate, barbarian, he cried in a low voice, pointing to the far end of the arena. Escape while you are yet alive.

The crowd roared in approbation. It enjoyed glorious sally such as these. I shall tear you limb from limb, shouted the murderer, and again the crowd applauded. "'I am here,' said Tarzan calmly. "'Flee!' screamed the murderer, and lowering his head, he charged like an angry bull. The ape-man sprang into the air and came down upon his antagonist. And what happened so quickly that no one there, other than Tarzan, knew how it had been accomplished. Only he knew that he clamped a reverse headlock upon the murderer.

What the crowd saw was the hulking figure hurling to a hard fall. They saw him lying half stunned upon the sand, while the giant barbarians stood with folded arms looking down upon him. The thickle crowd rose from its benches, shrieking with delight. Hub it! Hub it! they cried, and thousands of closed fists were outstretched with the thumbs pointing downward. But Tarzan only stood there waiting, as the murderer, shaking his head to clear his brain, crawled slowly to his feet. The fellow looked about him half bewildered, and then,

his eyes found Tarzan, and with a growl of rage he charged again. Again the terrible hole was clamped upon him, and again he was hurled heavily to the floor of the arena. The crowd screamed with delight. Every thumb in the Coliseum was pointed downward. They wanted Tarzan to kill his adversary. The ape-man looked up into Caesar's loge, where sat the master of the games with Subladus. "'Is not this enough?' he demanded, pointing at the prostrate figure of the stunned gladiator. The prefect waved a hand in an all-including gesture which took in the audience. "'They demand his death,' he said. While he remains alive in the arena, you are not the victor. "'Does Caesar require that I kill this defenseless man?'

demanded Tarzan, looking straight into the face of Subladus. "'You have heard the noble prefect,' replied the emperor haughtily. "'Good,' said Tarzan. "'The rules of the contest shall be fulfilled.' He stooped and seized the unconscious form of his antagonist and raised it above his head. "'Thus, I carried your emperor from his throne-room to the avenue,' he shouted to the audience. Screams of delight measured the appreciation of the populace,

while Caesar went white and red in anger and mortification. He half rose from his seat, but what he contemplated was never fulfilled. For at that instant, Tarzan swung the body of the murder downward and back like a huge pendulum, and then upward with a mighty surge, hurling it over the arena wall, full into the loge of Subladus, where it struck Caesar, knocking him to the floor. "'I am alive and alone in the arena,' shouted Tarzan, turning to the people. "'And by the terms of the contest, I am Victor.' And not even Caesar dared question the decision that was voiced by the shrieking, screaming, applauding multitude.

End of Chapter 14. Chapter 15 of Tarzan and the Lost Empire by Edgar Rice Burroughs. This Libervox recording is in the public domain. Tarzan and the Lost Empire. Chapter 15 Bloody Days followed restless nights in comfortless cells, where lice and rats joined forces to banish rest. When the games began, there had been twelve inmates in the cell occupied by Tarzan, but now three empty rings dangled against the stone wall, and each day they wondered whose turn was next.

The others did not reproach Tarzan because of his failure to free them, since they had never taken his optimism seriously. They could not conceive of contestants escaping from the arena during the games. It simply was not done, and that was all there was to it. It never had been done, and it never would be. We know you meant well, said Precleris, but we know better than you. The conditions have not been right as yet, said Tarzan. But if what I have been told of the games is true, the time will come.

What time could be propitious? asked Hasta, while more than half of Caesar's legionaries packed the Coliseum. There should be a time, Tarzan reminded him, when all the victorious contestants are in the arena together. Then we shall rush Caesar's loge and drag him into the arena.

With Subladus as a hostage, we may demand a hearing and get it. I venture to say that they will give us our liberty in return for Caesar. But how can we enter Caesar's loge? demanded Mattelis. In an instant we may form steps with living men stooping,

while others step upon their backs as soldiers scale a wall. Perhaps some of us will be killed, but enough will succeed to seize Caesar and drag him to the sands. I wish you luck, said Perclaris, and by Jupiter I believe that you will succeed. I only wish that I might be with you. You will not accompany us, demanded Tarzan. How can I? I shall be locked in this cell. Is it not evident that they do not intend to enter me in the contests? They are reserving me. for some other fate.

The jailer has told me that my name appears in no event. But we must find a way to take you with us, said Tarzan. There is no way, said Precleris, shaking his head sadly. Wait, said Tarzan. You commanded the Coliseum Guards, did you not? Yes, replied Procleris. And you had the keys to the cells? Asked the ape-man.

Yes, replied Proclaris. Clarus, and to the manacles as well. "'Where are they?' asked Tarzan. "'But no, that will not do. "'They must have taken them from you when they arrested you.' "'No, they did not,' said Procleras. "'As a matter of fact, I did not have them with me when I dressed for the banquet that night.

I left them in my room.' "'But perhaps they sent for them?' "'Yes, they sent for them, but they did not find them. The jailer asked me about them the day after I was arrested, but I told him that the soldiers took them from me. I told him that because I had hidden them in a secret place where I keep my valuables. I knew that if I told them where they were, they would take not only the keys, but my valuables as well. Good, exclaimed the ape-man. With the keys, our problem is solved. But how are you going to get them? demanded Perclaris with a rueful smile.

"'I do not know,' said Tarzan. "'All I know is that we must have the keys.' "'We know, too, that we should have our liberty,' said Hasta, "'but knowing it does not make us free.' Their conversation was interrupted by the approach of soldiers along the corridor. Presently, a detachment of the palace guard halted outside their cell. The jailer unlocked the door, and a man entered with two torch-bearers behind him. It was fastest.

He looked around the cell. "'Where is Perclarus?' he demanded, and then, "'Ah, there you are!' Preclerus did not reply. "'Stand up, slave,' ordered Fasthus arrogantly. "'Stand up all of you! How dare you sit in the presence of a Caesar!' he exclaimed. "'Swine is a better title for such as you,' taunted Perclaris. "'Drag them up! Beat them with your pikes!' cried Fassus to the soldiers.

outside the doorway. The commander of the Coliseum Guard, who stood just behind Fastus, blocked the doorway. Stand back, he said to the legionaries. No one gives orders here except Caesar and myself, and you are not Caesar yet, Fastus. I shall be one day, snapped the prince, and it will be a sad day for you.

It will be a sad day for all Castra sanguinarius, replied the officer. You said that you wished to speak to Proclairus, "'Say what you have to say and be gone. Not even Caesar's son may interfere with my charges.' Fastest trembled with anger, but he knew that he was powerless. The commander of the guard spoke with the authority of the emperor, whom he represented. He turned upon Proclerus.

"'I came to invite my good friend Maximus Procleris to my wedding,' he announced with a sneer. He waited, but Procleris made no reply. "'You do not seem duly impressed, Perclarus,' continued the prince. "'You do not ask who is to be the happy bride. Do you not wish to know who will be the next empress in Castra sanguinarius, even though you may not live to see her upon the throne beside Caesar?' The heart of Maximus Perclarus stood still, for now he knew why Fastus had come to the dungeon cell, but he gave no sign of what was passing within his breast,

but remain seated in silence upon the hard floor, his back against the cold wall. "'You do not ask me whom I am to wed nor when,' continued Fastus. "'But I shall tell you. You shall be interested.' Delecta, the daughter of Dion Splendidus, will have none of a traitor and a felon. She aspires to share the purple with a Caesar. In the evening, following the last day of the games, Delecta and Fatsy, "'Fastus are to be married in the throne-room of the palace.' "'Gloating, Fastus waited to know the result of his announcement.

"'But if he had looked to surprise Maximus Proclerus into an exhibition of chagrin, "'he failed, for the young patrician ignored him so completely "'that Fastus might not have been in the cell at all for all the attention that the other paid to him.' Maximus Proclaris turned and spoke casually to Mattelis, and the quiet affront aroused the mounting anger of Fastus to such an extent. that he lost what little control he had of himself. Stepping quickly forward, he stooped and slapped Preclerus in the face, and then spat upon him. But in doing so, he had come too close to Tarzan, and the ape-man reached out and seized him

by the ankle, dragging him to the floor. Fastest screamed a command to his soldiers. He sought to draw his dagger or his sword, but Tarzan took them from him and hurled the prince into the arms of the legionaries, who had rushed past the commander of the Coliseum Guard, and entered the cell. "'Get out now, Fastus,' said the latter. "'You have caused enough trouble here already.' "'I shall get you for this,' hissed the prince,

"'all of you!' And he swept the inmates of the cell with an angry, menacing glance. Long after they had gone, Cassius Hasta continued to chuckle. "'Cesar!' he exclaimed, "'swine!' As the prisoners discussed the discomfiture of Fastus and sought to prophesy what might come of it. They saw a wavering light reflected from afar in the corridor before their cell.

"'We are to have more guests,' said Mattelis. "'Perhaps Fastus is returning to spit on Tarzan,' suggested Cassius Hasta, and they all laughed. The light was advancing along the corridor, but it was not accompanied by the tramp of soldiers' feet. "'Whoever comes, comes silently and alone,' said Matt. Maximus Proclerus. Then it is not Fastus, said Hasta. But it might be an assassin sent by him, suggested Proclerus. We shall be ready for him, said Tarzan.

A moment later there appeared beyond the grating of the cell door, the commander of the Coliseum Guards, who had accompanied Fastus and who had stood between the prince and the prisoner. Apius of Plosus, exclaimed Maximus Procleris, He is no assassin, my friends. I am not the assassin of your body, Procleris, said Apollosus, but I am indeed the assassin of your happiness. What do you mean, my friend? demanded Proclerus.

In his anger, Fastest told me more than he told you. He told you what? asked Procleris. He told me that Delecta had consented to become his wife only in the hope of saving her father and mother, and you, Proclaris, and your mother Festavetus. To call him swine is to insult the swine, said Precleris. Take word to her apollosus, that I would rather die than to see her wed to Fastus. She knows that, my friend, said the officer, but she thinks also of her father and her mother

and yours. Perclaris's chin dropped upon his chest. I had forgotten that, he moaned. Oh, there must be some way to stop it. "'He is the son of Caesar,' Apollosus reminded him, and the time is short. "'I know it, I know it!' cried Proclerus. "'But it is too hideous. It cannot be!'

"'This officer is your friend, Procleris,' asked Tarzan, indicating Appius Apis. "'Yes,' said Proclerus. "'You would trust him fully?' demanded the ape-man. "'With my life and my honor,' said Proclerus. "'Tell him where your keys are, and let him fetch them,' said the ape-man. Procleris brightened instantly. "'I had not thought of that,' he cried. "'But no, his life would be in jeopardy.'

"'It already is,' said Apollosus. "'Fastus will never forget or forgive what I said tonight. "'You, Proclaris, know that I am already doomed. "'What keys do you want? Where are they? I will fetch them.' "'Perhaps not, when you know what they are.' said Procleris. I can guess, replied Appius Aplosus. You have been in my apartments often Apollosus?

The other nodded affirmatively. You recall the shelves near the window where my books lie? Yes. The back of the third shelf slides to one side, and behind it in the wall you will find the keys. Good, Proclaris, you shall have them, said the officer. The others watched the diminishing light as Apius'plos. departed along the corridor beneath the Coliseum.

The last day of the Games had come. The bloodthirsty populace had gathered once more as eager and enthusiastic as though they were about to experience a new and unfamiliar thrill. Their appetites swept as clean of the memories of the past week as were the fresh sands of the arena of the brown stains of yesterday. For the last time, the inmates of the cell were taken to enclosures nearer to the entrance to the arena.

They had fared better perhaps than others, for of the twelve rings only four were empty. Maximus Proclerus alone was left behind. Goodbye, he said. Those of you who survived the day shall be free. We shall not see one another again. Good luck to you, and may the gods give strength and skill to your arms. That is all that I can ask of them,

for not even the gods could give you more courage than you already possess. Apollosus has failed us. said Hasta. Tarzan looked troubled. "'If only you were coming out with us, Procleris, we should not then need the keys.' From within the enclosure where they were confined, Tarzan and his companions could hear the sounds of combat

and the groans and hoots and applause of the audience, but they could not see the floor of the arena. It was a very large room with heavily barred windows and a door. Sometimes two men, sometimes four, sometimes six would go out together, but only one or two or three returned. The effect upon the nerves of those who remained uncalled was maddening. For some, the suspense became almost unendurable.

Two attempted suicide, and others tried to pick quarrels with their fellow prisoners, but there were many guards within the room, and the prisoners were unarmed, their weapons being issued to them only after they had quit the enclosure and were about to enter the arena. The afternoon was drawing to a close. Battelis had fought with a gladiator, both in full armor. Hasta and Tarzan had heard the excited cries of the populace. They had heard cheer after cheer, which indicated that each man was putting up a skillful and courageous fight.

There was an instant of silence, and then the loud cries of, Hub it! Hubbit! It is over, whispered Cassius Hasta. Tarzan made no reply. He had grown to like these men, for a little bit of him. had found them brave and simple and loyal, and he, too, was inwardly moved by the suspense that must be endured until one or the other returned to the enclosure. But he gave no outward sign of his perturbation, and while Cassius Hasta paced nervously to and fro, Tarzan of the

ape stood silently, with folded arms watching the door. After a while, it opened, and Cecilius Mattelus crossed the threshold. Cache's Hasta uttered a cry of relief and sprang forward to embrace his friend. Again the door swung open and a minor official entered. Come, he cried all of you. It is the last event. Outside the enclosure, each man was given a sword, dagger, pike, shield, and a hemp and net, and one by one, as they were thus equipped, they were sent into the arena. All the survivors of the week of combat were there, one hundred of them. They were divided into two equal parties, and redacted, ribbons were fastened to the shoulders of one party and white ribbons to the shoulders of the

other. Tarzan was among the Reds, as were Hasta, Mattelis, Lukiti, Mpingu, and Ogunno. What are we supposed to do? asked Tarzan of Hasta. The Reds will fight against the whites until all the Reds are killed or all the whites. They should see blood enough to suit them now, said Tarzan. They can never get enough of it, replied Metellis. The two parties marched to the opposite end of the arena and received their instructions from the prefect in charge of the games, and then they were formed, the reds upon one side of the arena, the whites upon the other. Trumpets sounded, and the armed men advanced toward one another. Tarzan smiled to himself as he considered the weapons with which he was supposed to defend

himself. The pike he was sure of, for the Waziri are great spearmen, and Tarzan excelled even among them. And with the dagger he felt at home, so long had the hunting-knife of his father been his only weapon of protection. But the Spanish sword, he felt, would probably prove more of a liability than an asset, while the ned in his hands could be nothing more than a sorry joke. He would like to have thrown his shield aside, for he did not like shields, considering them, as a rule, useless encumbrances. But he used them before when the waziri had fought other native tribes, and, knowing that they were constructed as a defense against the very weapons that his opponents were using, he retained his and advanced with the others toward the white line.

He had determined that their only hope lay in accounting for as many of their adversaries in the first clash of arms as was possible, and this word he had passed down the line, with the further admonition that the instant that a man had disposed of an antagonist, he turned immediately to help the red nearest him, or the one most sorely beset. set. As the two lines drew closer, each man selected the opponent opposite him, and Tarzan found that he faced a black warrior from the outer villages. They came closer. Some of the men, more eager or nervous than the others, were in advance. Some, more fearful, lagged behind. Tarzan's opponent came upon him. Already, Pikes were flying through the air. Tarzan and the black hurled

their missiles at the same instant, and back of the eight-man's throw was all the skill and all the muscle and all the weight that he could command. Tarzan struck upward with his shield, and his opponent's pike struck at a glancing blow, but with such force that the spear-haft was shattered, while Tarzan's weapon passed through the shield of his opponent and pierced the fellow's heart. There were two others down, one killed and one wounded, and the Coliseum was a babble a voices and a bedlam of noise. Tarzan sprang quickly to aid one of his fellows, but another white who had killed his red opponent ran to interfere. Tarzan's net annoyed him, so he threw it at a white who was pressing one of the Reds, and took on his fresh opponent, who had drawn his sword.

His adversary was a professional gladiator, a man trained in the use of all his weapons, and Tarzan soon realized that only through great strength and agility might he expect to hold his own with his opponent. The fellow did not rush. He came in slowly and carefully, feeling out Tarzan. He was cautious because he was an old hand at the business and was imbued with but a single hope to live. He cared as little for the hoots and jibes of the people as he did for their applause, and he hated Caesar. He soon discovered that Tarzan was adopting defensive tactics only, but whether this was for the purpose of feeling out his opponent or whether it was part of a plan that would lead up to a sudden and swift surprise,

the gladiator could not guess, nor did he care particularly, for he knew that he was a master of his weapon, and many a corpse had been burned that in life had thought to surprise him. Judging Tarzan's skill with a sword by his skill with the shield, the gladiator thought he was pitted against a highly skilled adversary, and he waited patiently for Tarzan to open up his offense and reveal his style. But Tarzan had no style that could be compared with that of the Gladiator. What he was awaiting was a lucky chance,

the only thing that he felt could assure him victory over this wary and highly skilled swordsman. But the Gladiator gave him no openings, and he was hoping that one of his companions would be free to come to his assistance, when suddenly, and without warning, a net dropped over his shoulders from behind. End of Chapter 15. Chapter 16 of Tarzan and the Lost Empire by Edgar Rice Burroughs. This Libervox recording is in the public domain. Tarzan and the Lost Empire.

Chapter 16 Cassius has to split the helmet of a burly thief who opposed him, And as he turned to look for a new opponent, he saw White cast a net over Tarzan's head and shoulders from the rear, while the ape-man was engaged with a professional gladiator. Cassius was near the gladiator than Tarzan's other opponent, and with a cry he hurled himself upon him. Tarzan saw what Cassius Hasta had done, and wheeled to face the White who had attacked him from the rear. The gladiator found Cassius Hasta a very different opponent from Tarzan. Perhaps he was not as skillful with his shield. Perhaps he was not as powerful,

but never in all his experience had the gladiator met such a swordsman. The crowd had been watching Tarzan from the beginning of the event, because his great height and his nakedness and his leopard skin marked him from all others. They noted that the first cast of his pike has split the shield of his opponent and dropped him dead, and they watched his encounter with the gladiator, which did not please them at all. It was far too slow, and they hooted and voiced catcalls. When the white cast the net over him, they howled with delight, for they did not know from one day to the next, or from one minute to the next, what their minds would be the next day or the next minute. They were cruel and stupid, but they were no different from crowds of any

place or any time. As Tarzan, entangled in the net, turned to face the new man, and the menace. The white leapt toward him to finish him with a dagger, and Tarzan caught the net with the fingers of both his hands and tore it asunder as though it had been made of paper. But the fellow was upon him in the same instant. The dagger hand struck as Tarzan seized the dagger wrist. Blood ran from beneath the leopard-skin from a wound over Tarzan's heart, so close had he been to death. But his hands stopped the other just in time, and now steel fingers close. closed upon that wrist, until the man cried out with pain as he felt his bones crushed together. The ape-man drew his antagonist toward him and seized him by the throat and shook him as a

terrier shakes a rat, while the air trembled to the delighted screams of the mob. An instant later Tarzan cast the lifeless form aside, picked up his sword and shield that he had been forced to abandon and sought for new foes. Thus the battle waged around the arena, each side seeking to gain the advantage in numbers so that they might set upon the remnant of their opponents and destroy them. Cassius Hasta had disposed of the gladiator that he had drawn away from Tarzan and was now engaged with another swordsman when a second fell upon him. Two to one are heavy odds,

but Cassius Hasta tried to hold the second off until another red could come to his assistance. This, however, did not conform with the ideas of the whites who were engaging him, and they fell upon him with redoubled fury to prevent the very thing that he hoped for. He saw an opening, and quick as lightning his sword leapt into it, severing the jugular vein of one of his antagonists. But his guard was down for the instant, and a glancing blow struck his helmet, and though he did not pierce it, it sent him stumbling to the sand half stunned. "'Hubot! Hobbit!' cried the people,

for Cassius Hasta had fallen close to one side of the arena where a great man. number of people could see him. Standing over him, his antagonist raised his forefinger to the audience, and every thumb went down. With a smile, the white raised his sword to drive it through Hasta's throat. But as he paused an instant facing the crowd, in a little play to the galleries for effect, Tarzan leapt across the soft sand, casting aside his sword in shield, reverting to the primitive, to the beast to save his friend.

It was like the charge of a lion. The crowd saw and was frozen into silence. They saw him spring in his stride several yards before he reached the opposing gladiator, and like a jungle beast fell upon the shoulders and back of his prey. Down the two went across the body of Hasta, but instantly the ape-man was upon his feet and in his hands was his antagonist. He shook him as he had shaken the other, shook him into unconsciousness, choking him as he shook, shook him to death, and cast his body from him.

The crowd went wild. They stood upon their benches and shrieked and waved scarves and helmets and threw many flowers and sweetmeats into the arena. Tarzan stopped and lifted Cassius Hasta to his feet as he saw that he was not killed and consciousness was returning. Scanning the arena quickly, he saw that fifteen red survived, but ten whites. This was a battle for survival. There were no rules and no ethics. It was your life or mine, and Tarzan gathered the surplus five and set upon the strongest white, who now, surrounded by six swordsmen, went down to death in an instant. At Tarzan's command, the six divided, and each three charged another white, with a result that by following these tactics, the event was brought to a sudden

and bloody clothes, with fifteen red surviving and the last white slain. The crowd was crying Tarzan's name above all others, but Subladas was enraged. The affront that had been put upon him by this wild barbarian had not been avenged as he had hoped, but instead Tarzan had achieved a personal popularity far greater than his own. That it was ephemeral and subject to the changes of the fickle public mind did not lessen the indignation and chagrin of the emperor. His mind could entertain but once thought toward Tarzan. The creature must be destroyed.

He turned to the prefect in charge of the games and whispered a command. The crowd was loudly demanding that the Lorawwigs be accorded the victors and that they be given their freedom, but instead they were herded back to their enclosure, all but Tarzan. Perhaps, suggested some members of the audience, Sabladas is going to honor him particularly, and this rumor ran quickly through the crowd, as rumors will, until it became a conviction. Slaves came and dragged away the corpses of the slain and picked up the discarded weapons and scattered new sand and raked it, while Tarzan stood where he had been told to stand beneath the loge of Caesar. He stood with folded arms, grimly waiting for what he knew not,

and then a low groan rose from the crowded stands, a groan that grew in volume to loud cries of anger above which Tarzan caught words that sounded like, "'Tirant, coward, traitor, and down with Sublatus!' He looked around and saw them pointing to the opposite end of the arena, and facing in that direction he saw the thing that had aroused their wrath, for instead of a laurel reef and freedom, there stood eyeing him a great black-maned lion, gaunt with hunger. Toward the anger of the populace, Sublattus exhibited outwardly.

an arrogant and indifferent mean. Contemptuously, he permitted his gaze to circle the stands, but he whispered orders that sent three centuries of legionaries among the audience in time to overaw a few agitators who would have led them against the imperial loge. But now the lion was advancing, and the cruel and selfish audience forgot its momentary anger against injustice in the expected thrill of another bloody encounter.

Some, who a moment before, have been loudly acclaiming Tarzan, now cheered the lion, though if the lion were vanquished, they would again cheer Tarzan. That, however, they did not anticipate, but believed that they had taken sides with the assured winner, since Tarzan was armed only with a dagger, not having recovered his other weapons after he had thrown them aside. Naked but for loincloth and leopard skin, Tarzan presented a magnificent picture of physical perfection, and the people of Castasanguinarius gave him their admiration. They had seen other men that weak face other lions bravely and hopelessly, and they saw the

same courageous bearing in the giant barbarian, but the hopelessness they took for granted the ape-man did not feel. With head flattened, half-crowching, the lion moved slowly toward its prey, the tip of its tail twitching in nervous anticipation, it's gone. sides greedy to be filled. Tarzan waited. Had he been the lion himself, he scarcely could have better known what was passing in that savage brain. He knew to the instant when the final charge would start.

He knew the speed of that swift and deadly rush. He knew when and how the lion would rear upon its high legs to cease him with great talons and mighty yellow fangs. He saw the muscles tense. He saw the twitching tail. quiet for an instant. His folded arms dropped to his side. The dagger remained in its sheath at his hip. He waited, crouching almost imperceptibly, his weight upon the balls of his feet, and then the lion charged. Knowing how accurately the beast had timed its final rush,

measuring the distance to the fraction of a stride, even as a hunter approaches a jump, the ape-man knew that the surest way in which to gain the first advantage was to disconcert the charging beast by doing that which he would least expect. Numa the lion knows that his quarry usually does one of two things. He either stands paralyzed with terror, or he turns and flees. So seldom does he charge to meet Numa that the lion never takes this possibility into consideration, and it was, therefore, this very thing that Tarzan did.

As the lion charged, the ape-men leapt to meet him, and the crowd sat breathless and silent. Even Sublattus leaned forward with parted lips, forgetful for a moment that he was Caesar. Numa tried to check himself and rear to meet this presumptuous man-thing, but he slipped a little in the sand and the great paw that struck at Tarzan was ill-timed and missed, for the eight-men had dodged to one side and beneath it, and in the fraction of a second that it took Numa to recover himself, he found that their positions had been reversed, and that the prey that he would have leapt upon had turned swiftly and leapt upon him. Full upon the back of the lion sprang Tarzan of the apes. A great forearm encircled

the main throat. Steel-thewed legs crossed beneath the gaunt, slim belly, and locked themselves there. Numa reared and pawed and turned to bite the savage beast upon his back, but the vice-like arm about his throat pressed tighter, holding him so that his fangs could not reach their goal. He leapt into the air, and when he alighted on the sand, shook himself to dislodge the growling man-beast clinging to him. Holding his position with his legs and one arm, Tarzan, with his free hand, sought the hilt of his dagger. Numa, feeling the life being choked from him, became frantic. He reared upon his hind legs and threw himself upon the ground, rolling upon his antagonist, and now the crowd found its voice again and shouted horse delight.

Never in the history of the arena has such a contest as this been witnessed. The barbarian was offering such a defense as they had not thought possible, and they cheered him, though they knew that eventually the lion would win. Then Tarzan found his dagger and drove the thin blade into Numa's side, just back of his left elbow. Again and again the knife struck home, but each blow seemed only to increase the savage efforts of the lunging beast to shake the man from his back and tear him to pieces. Blood was mixed with the foam on numerous jowls as he stood panting upon trembling legs

after a last futile effort to dislodge the ape-man. He swayed dizzily. The knife struck deep again. A great stream of blood gushed from the mouth and nostrils of the dying beast. He lurched forward and fell lifeless upon the crimson sand. Tarzan of the apes leapt to his feet. The savage personal combat, the blood, the contact with the mighty body of the carnivore, had stripped from him the last vestige of the thin veneer of civilization. It was no English lord who stood there with one foot upon his kill, and through narrowed lids glared about him at the roaring populace. It was no English lord who stood there with one foot upon his kill, man, but a wild beast that raised its head and voiced the savage victory cry of the bull-ape,

a cry that stilled the multitude and froze its blood. But in an instant the spell that had seized him passed. His expression changed. The shadow of a smile crossed his face, as he stooped and wiping the blood from his dagger upon Numa's mane, returned the weapon to its sheath. Caesar's jealousy had turned to terror as he realized that. the meaning of the tremendous ovation the giant barbarian was receiving from the people of Castor sanguinarius. He well knew, though he tried to conceal the fact, that he held no place in popular favor, and that Fastus his son was equally hated and despised. The barbarian was a friend of Maximus Preclerus, whom he had wronged, and Maximus Procleris, whose popularity with the troops

was second to none, was loved by Delecta, the daughter of Dion Splendidus, who might easily aspire to the purple, with the support of such a popular idol as Tarzan must become, if he were given his freedom in accordance with the customs and rules governing the contests. While Tarzan waited in the arena and the people cheered themselves hoarse, more legionaries filed into the stands until the wall bristled with glittering pikes. Caesar whispered in consultation with the prefect of the Games. Trumpets blared, and the prefect arose and raised his open palm for silence. Gradually the din subsided, and the people waited, listening,

expecting the honors that were customarily bestowed upon the outstanding hero of the Games. The prefect cleared his throat. This barbarian has furnished such extraordinary entertainment that Caesar, as a special favor to his loyal subjects, has decided to add one more event to the games in which the barbarian may again demonstrate his supremacy. This event will—' But what further the prefect said was drowned in a murmur of surprise, disapproval, and anger, for the people had sensed by this time the vicious and unfair trick that Subladus was about to play upon their favorite. They cared nothing for fair play. For though the east,

individual may prey to it at home, it has no place in mob psychology. But the mob knew what it wanted. It wanted to idolize a popular hero. It did not care to see him fight again that day, and it wanted to thwart Sabladas, whom it hated. Menacing were the cries and threats directed towards Caesar, and only the glittering pikes kept the mob at bay. In the arena, the slaves were working rapidly. Fallen Numa had been dragged away, the sand swept, and as the last slave disappeared, leaving Tarzan again alone within the enclosure, those menacing gates at the far end swung open once more. End of Chapter 16. Chapter 17 of Tarzan and the Lost Empire by Edgar Rice Burroughs. This Libervox recording is in the public domain.

Tarzan and the Lost Empire Chapter 17 As Tarzan looked toward the far end of the arena, he saw six bull-apes being herded through the gateway. They had heard the victory cry roll thunderously from the arena a few minutes before, and they came now from their cages filled with excitement and ferocity. Already had they long been surly and irritable from confinement, and from the teasing and baiting to which they have been subjected by the cruel sanguinarians. Before them they saw a man-thing, a hated Tarmangani. He represented the creatures that had

captured them and teased them and hurt them. "'I am gayot,' growled one of the bull-apes. "'I kill.' "'I am Zooto,' bowed another. "'I kill!' "'Kill the Tarmangani!' barked Goyad, as the six lumbered forward, sometimes erect upon their hind feet, sometimes swinging with gnarled knuckles to the ground. The crowd hooded and groaned. "'Down with Caesar! Death to Sablottus!' rose distinctly above the tumult.

To a man they were upon their feet, but the glittering pikes held them in awe, as one or two with more courage than brains, sought to reach the loge of Caesar, but ended upon the pikes of the legionaries instead. Their bodies, lying in the aisles, served as warning to the others. Soblatt has turned and whispered to a guest in the Imperial Lodge. This should be a lesson to all who would dare affront Caesar, he said. Quite right, replied the other. Glory, 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 Goyad. He was king of the tribe when I was a young ape. "'It is indeed white-skin,' said Gaiat. "'Yes,' said Tarzan, "'I am white-skin. "'We are all prisoners here together. "'These Tarban Ghani 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 towards Caesar's loge, his bronze 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 even Tarzan might pass these unscathed. He looked up at Subladus. "'Your plan has failed, Caesar. These that you thought would tear me to pieces are my own people.' They will not harm me. If there are any others that you would turn against me, let them come now, but be quick, for my patience is growing short, and if I should say the word, these apes will follow me into the imperial loge and tear you to shreds.

And that is exactly what Tarzan would have done, had he not known that while he doubtless could have killed Subladus, his end would come quickly beneath the pikes of the legionaries. He was not sufficiently well-versed in the ways of mobs to know that in their present mood the people would have swarmed to protect him, and that the legionaries, with few exceptions, would have joined forces with them against the hated tyrant. What Tarzan wanted particularly was to affect the escape of Cassius Hasta and Cecilius Mattulles simultaneously with his own,

so that he might have the advantage of their assistance in his search for Eric von Harbin in the Empire of the East. east. Therefore, when the prefect ordered him back to his dungeon, he went, taking the apes with him to their cages. As the arena gates closed behind him, he heard again, above the roaring of the populace, the insistent demand, down with sublades! As the jailer opened the cell door, Tarzan saw that its only occupant was Maximus Procleris. "'Welcome, Tarzan!' cried the Roman. "'I had not thought to see you again. How is it that you are neither dead nor free?

It is the Justice of Caesar, replied Tarzan with a smile. But at least our friends are free, for I see they are not here. Do not deceive yourself, barbarian, said the jailer. Your friends are chained safely in another cell. But they won their freedom, exclaimed Tarzan. And so did you, returned the jailer with a grin, but are you free? It is an outrage, cried Procleris.

It cannot be done. The jailer shrugged. But it is already done, he said. And why? demanded Procleris. Think you that a poor soldier has the confidence of Caesar? asked the jailer. But I have heard the reason rumored, Sedition is in the air.

Caesar fears you and all your friends because the people favor you and you favored Dion Splendidus. "'I see,' said Procleris, "'and so we are to remain here indefinitely.' "'I should scarcely say indefinitely,' grinned the jailer, as he closed the door and locked it, leaving them alone. "'I did not like the look in his eye, nor the tone of his voice,' said

preclaris, after the fellow was out of hearing. "'The gods are unkind, but how can I expect else from them when even my best friend fails me. You mean Apiosoplosus? asked Tarzan. None other, replied Procleris. If he had fetched the keys, we might yet escape. Perhaps we shall in any event, said Tarzan. I should never give up hope until I were dead,

and I have never been dead. You do not know either the power or perfidy of Caesar, replied the Roman. Nor does Caesar know Tarzan. Arzan of the apes! Darkness had but just enveloped the city, blotting out even the dim light of their dungeon cell, when the two men perceived wavering light beams lessening the darkness of the corridor without. The light increased, and they knew that someone was approaching, lighting his way with a flaring torch.

Visitors to the dungeon beneath the Coliseum were few in the daytime. Guards and jaders passed occasionally, and twice each day slaves came with food. but at night the silent approach of a single torch might more surely augur ill than well. Perclarus and Tarzan dropped the desultory conversation with which they had been whiling away the time and waited in silence for whoever might be coming. Perhaps the nighttime visitor was not for them, but the egotism of misfortune naturally suggested that he was, and that his intentions might be more sinister than friendly. But they had not long to wait, and their suspicions percussed.

included any possibility of surprise, when a man halted before the barred gateway to their cell. As the visitor fitted the key to the lock, Priclarus recognized him through the bars. Appius Apollosus, he cried. You have come! Pst! Cautioned Apollosus, and quickly opening the gate, he stepped within and closed it silently behind him. With a quick glance he surveyed the cell, and then extinguished his torch against the stone wall.

"'It is fortunate that you are alone,' he said, speaking in whispers, as he dropped to the floor close to the two men. "'You are trembling,' said Precleris. "'What has happened?' "'It is not what has happened, but what is about to happen that alarms me,' replied uplosus. "'You have probably wondered why I had not brought the keys. You have doubtless thought me faithless, but the fact is that, up to this instant, it has

been impossible, although I have stood ready before to risk my life in the attempt, even as I am now doing. But why should it be so difficult for the commander of the Coliseum Guard to visit the dungeon? I am no longer the commander of the guards, replied Apollosus. Something must have aroused Caesar's suspicions, for I was removed in the hour that I last left you. Whether someone overheard and reported our plan, or whether it was merely my known friendship for you that aroused his misgivings, I may only surmise. But the fact remains that I have been kept on duty constantly at the Port of Pretoria since I was transferred

there from the Coliseum. I have not even been permitted to return to my home, the reason given being that Caesar expects an uprising of the barbarians of the outer villages, which, as we all know, is utterly ridiculous. I risked everything to leave my post only an hour ago, and that because of a word of gossip that was passed to me by a young officer who came to relieve another at the gate. "'What said he?' demanded Procleris. He said that an officer of the palace guard had told him that he had been ordered to come to your cell-night and assassinate both you and this white barbarian.

I hastened to Festivetus, and together we found the keys that I promised to bring you. But even as I slunk through the shadows of the city's streets, endeavoring to reach the Colosseum unobserved or unrecognized, I feared that I might be too late, for Caesar's orders are that you are to be dispatched at once. Here are the keys, Procleris. If I may do more, command me. No, my friend, replied Proclaris,

you have already risked more than enough. Go at once. Return to your post, let Caesar learn and destroy you. Farewell, then, and good luck, said Apollosus. If you would leave the city, remember that Apiusaplosus commands the port of Pretoria. I shall not forget, my friend, replied Perclarus, but I shall not impose further risks upon your friendship. Apius Aplosus turned to leave the cell, but he stopped suddenly at the gate.

It is too late, he whispered. Look! The fate gleams of distant porchlight were cutting the gloom of the corridor. They come, whispered Poclarus. Make haste. But instead, Apisoplosus stepped quickly to one side of the doorway, out of sight of the corridor beyond, and drew his Spanish sword. Rapidly the torts swung down the corridor.

The scraping of sandals on stone could be distinctly heard, and the eight men knew that whoever came was alone. A man wrapped in a long, dark cloak, halted before the barred door, and holding his torch above his head, peered within. Maximus Procleris, he whispered. Are you within? Yes, replied Procleris.

Good, exclaimed the other. I was not sure that this was the right cell. What is your errand? demanded Procleris. I come from Caesar, said the other. He sends a note. A sharp one? Inquired Procleris.

Sharp and pointed, laughed the officer. "'We are expecting you.' "'You knew?' demanded the other. "'We guessed, for we know Caesar.' "'Then make your peace with your gods,' said the officer, drawing his sword and pushing the door open. "'For you are about to die!' There was a cold smile upon his lips as he stepped across the threshold,

for Caesar knew his men and had chosen well the proper type for this deed, a creature without conscience whose envy and jealousy, Preclerus had aroused, and the smile was still upon his lips as the sword of Apius Aplosis crashed through his helmet to his brain. As the man lunged forward dead, the torch fell from his left hand and was extinguished upon the floor. "'Now go,' whispered Preclerus to Aplosis, "'and may the gratitude of those who have saved prove a guard against disaster.' "'It could not have turned out better,' whispered.

Apollosus. You have the keys, you have his weapons, and now you have ample time to make your escape before the truth is learned. Goodbye again. Goodbye, and may the gods protect you. As Apollosus moved cautiously along the dark corridor, Maximus Proclerus fitted keys to their manacles, and both men stood erect, free at last from their hated chains. No need to formulate plans. They had talked and talked of nothing else for weeks, changes. Changes them only to meet altered conditions. Now their first concern was to find Hasta and Mattelis and the others upon whose loyalty they could depend, and to gather around them as many of the other prisoners as might be willing to follow them in the daring adventure they contemplated.

Through the darkness of the corridor they crept from cell to cell, and in the few that still held prisoners they found none unwilling to pledge his loyalty to any cause or to any leader that might offer freedom. Lucidi Mpingu and Ogaño were among those they liberated. They had almost given up hope of finding the others when they came upon Metellus and Hasta in a cell close to the entrance to the arena. With them were a number of professional gladiators, who should have been liberated with the other victors at the end of the games,

but who were being kept because of some whim of Caesar that they could not understand and that only inflamed them to anger against the emperor. To a man they pledged themselves to follow wherever Tarzan might lead. "'Few of us will come through alive,' said the ape-man, when they had all gathered in the large room that was reserved for the contestants before they were ushered into the arena. But those who do will have been avenged upon Caesar for the wrongs that he has done them. The others will be welcomed by the gods as heroes worthy of every favor,' added

Perclaris. "'We do not care whether your cause be right or wrong, or whether we live or die,' said a gladiator, so long as there is good fighting. "'There will be good fighting, I can promise you that,' said Tarzan, and plenty of it. "'Then lead on,' said the gladiator. "'But first I must liberate the rest of my friends,' said the ape-man.

"'We have emptied every cell,' said Perclaris. There are no more. Oh, yes, my friend, said Tarzan. There are still others. The Great Apes. End of Chapter 17. Chapter 18 of Tarzan and the Lost Empire by Edgar Rice Burrows. This Liberbox recording is in the public domain.

Tarzan and the Lost Empire. Chapter 18. In the Dungeons of Voletus Augustus in California, Pastor Mare, Eric Van Harbin and Malius Lepis, awaited the triumph of Alidas Augustus and the opening of the Games Upon the Morrow. "'We have nothing to expect but death,' said Lepus, gloomily. "'Our friends are in disfavor, or in prison, or in exile.

The jealousy of Alidus Augustus against his nephew, Cassius Hasta, has been invoked against us by Fulvas Phupas to serve his own aims.' "'And the fault is mine,' said Van Harbin. "'Do not reproach yourself,' replied his friend. "'That Favonia gave you her love cannot be held against you. "'It is only the jealous and scheming mind of Fupis that is to blame.' "'My love has brought sorrow to Favonia and disaster to her friends,' said Van Herban. "'And here am I, chained to a stone wall,

"'unable to strike a blow in her defense or theirs. "'Ah, if Cassius has to were but here, exclaimed Lepis. "'There is a man. With Phupus adopted by Caesar, the whole city would arise against Validus Augustus if Kassas Hasta were but here to lead us.' And as they conversed sadly and hopelessly

in the dungeons of Kastramare, noble guests gathered in the throne-room of Subladus in the city of Kastrasanguinarius, at the opposite end of the valley. There were senators in rich robes, and high officers of the court and of the army, resplendid in jewels and embroidered linen, who, with their wives and daughters, formed a gorgeous and glittering company in the pillared chamber,

for fastest the son of Caesar, was to wed the daughter of Dion Splendetus that evening. In the avenue beyond the palace gates, a great crowd had assembled, a multitude of people pushing and surging to and fro, but pressing ever upon the gates up to the very pikes of the legionaries. It was a noisy crowd, noisy with the deep-throated roar of anger. Down with the tyrant! Death to Sublattus! Death to Fastus! Was the burden of their hymn of hate. The menacing notes filled the palace, reaching to the throne room, but the haughty patricians pretended not to hear the voice of the

cattle. Why should they fear? Had not Sublattas distributed donations to all the troops that very day? Would not the pikes of the legionaries protect the source of their gratuity? It would serve the ungrateful populace right if Sublattus set the legions upon them, for had he not given them such a pageant and such a week of games as Castra Sanguinarius never had known before? For the rebel without, their contempt knew no bounds, now that they were within the palace of the emperor. But they did not speak among themselves of the fact that most of them had entered by a back gate, after the crowd had upset the litter of a noble senator

and spilled its passengers into the dust of the avenue. With pleasure they anticipated the banquet that would follow the marriage ceremony, and while they laughed and chattered over the gossip of the week, the bride sat stark and cold in an upper chamber of the palace, surrounded by her female slaves and comforted by her mother. "'It shall not be,' she said. I shall never be the wife of Fastus.

And in the folds of her flowing robe, she clutched the hilt of a slim dagger. In the corridor beneath the Coliseum, Tarzan marshalled his forces. He summoned Lucchidi and a chief of one of the outer villages, who had been a fellow prisoner with him and with whom he had fought shoulder to shoulder in the games. Go to the Port of Pretoria, he said, and ask Apiusiplosus to pass you through the city wall

as a favor to Maximus Proclerus. Go then among the villages and gather warriors. Tell them that if they would be avenged upon Caesar and free to live their own lives in their own way, they must rise now and join the citizens who are ready to revolt and destroy the tyrant. Hasten, there is no time to be lost. Gather them quickly and lead them into the city

by the Port of Pretoria, straight to the palace of Caesar. Warning their followers to silence, Tarzan and Maximus Proclerus led them in the direction of the barracks of the Colosseum Guard, where were quartered the men of Proclerus' own cohort. It was a motley throng of near-naked black warriors from the outer villages, black slaves from the city, and brown half-casts, among whom were murderers, thieves, and professional gladiators.

Preclerus and Hasta and Mattelis and Tarzan led them, and swarming close to Tarzan were Gaiat, Zutho, and Goiad, and their three fellow apes. O'Gagnan was certain now that Tarzan was a demon, for who else might command the hairy men of the woods? Doubtless, in each of these fierce bodies presided the ghost of some great Begigo chief. If Littlton Kima had been the ghost of his grandfather,

then these must be the ghosts of very great men indeed. O'Gano did not press too closely to these savage allies, nor, as a matter of fact, did any of the others, not even the most ferocious of the gladiators. At the barracks, Maximus Preclerus knew to whom to speak and what to say, for mutiny had long been rife in the ranks of the legionaries. Only their affection for some of their officers, among whom was Proclerus, had kept them thus long in leash,

and now they welcomed the opportunity to follow the young patrician to the very gates of Caesar's palace. Following a plan that had been decided upon, Proclerus dispatched a detachment under an officer to the port of Pretoria, with orders to take it by force if they could not persuade Apius Aplosus to join them, and throw it open to the warriors from the outer villages when they should arrive. Along the broad Via Prince of Palace, overhung by giant trees that formed a tunnel of darkness in the night, Tarzan of the apes led his followers toward the palace in the wake of a few torchbearers who lighted the way. As they approached their goal, someone upon the outskirts of the crowd, pressing the palace guard, was attracted by the light of their torches, and quickly the word was passed that Caesar had sent for reinforcements, that more troops were coming. The temper of the crowd, already inflamed,

was not improved as this news spread quickly through its ranks. A few, following a self-appointed leader, moved forward menacingly to meet the newcomers. "'Who comes?' shouted one. "'It is I, Tarzan of the Apes,' replied the ape-man. The shout that went up in response to this declaration proved that the fickle populace had not as yet turned against him. Within the palace the cries of the people brought a scowl to the face of Caesar and a sneer to many a patrician lip, but their reaction might have been far different had they known the cause of the elation of the mob. "'Why are you here?' cried voices.

"'What are you going to do?' "'We have come to rescue Delecta from the arms of Fastus and to drag the tyrant from the throne of Castrasanglinarius.' Roars of approval greeted the announcement. "'Death to the tyrant! Down with the palace guards! Kill them! Kill them!' rose from a thousand lips. The crowd pushed forward. The officer of the guard, seeing the reinforcements,

among which were many legionaries, ordered his men to fall back within the palace grounds and close and bar the gate. Nor did they succeed in accomplishing this an instant too soon, for as the bolts were shot, the crowd hurled itself upon the stout barriers of iron and oak. A pale-faced messenger hastened to the throne-room and to Caesar's side. "'The people have risen,' he whispered hoarsely, "'and many soldiers and gladiators and slaves have joined them. They are throwing themselves against the gates which cannot hold for long. Caesar arose and paced nervously to and fro, and presently he paused and summoned officers. Dispatch messengers to every gate and every barracks, he ordered.

Summon the troops to the last man that may be spared from the gates. Order them to fall upon the brabble and kill. Let them kill until no citizen remains alive in the streets of Castra Sanuanarius. Take no prisoners. As word finds its way through a crowd, as though by some strange telepathic means, so the knowledge soon became common that Subletus had ordered every legionary in the city to the palace with instructions to destroy the revolutionaries to the last man. The people, encouraged by the presence of the legionaries led by Perclarus, had renewed their assaults

upon the gates. And though many were piked through its bars, their bodies were dragged away by their friends and others took their places, so that the gate sagged and bent beneath their numbers. Yet they held, and Tarzan saw that they might hold for long, or at least long enough to permit the arrival of the reinforcements, that if they remain loyal to Caesar might overcome this undisciplined mob with ease. Gathering around him some of those he knew best, Tarzan explained a new plan that was greeted with exclamations of approval.

And summoning the apes, He moved down the dark avenue, followed by Maximus Proclarus, Cassius Haste, Cecilius Mattelis, Mpingu, and a half-dozen of Castra-Sanguinarius's most famous gladiators. The wedding of Fastus and Delecta was to take place upon the steps of Caesar's throne. The high priest of the temple stood facing the audience, and just below him, and at one side, Fastus waited, while slowly up the center of the long chamber came the bride, followed by the Vestal Virgins, who tended the temple's sacred fires. Delecta was pale, but she did not falter as she moved slowly forward to her doom.

There were many who whispered that she looked the empress already, so noble was her mean, so stately her carriage. They could not see the slim dagger clutched in her right hand beneath the flowing bridal robes. Up the aisle she moved, but she did not halt before the priest as fast as had done, and as she should have done. But past him, and mounting the first steps toward the throne, she halted facing Subladus. "'The people of Castrasanguinarius

have been taught through all the ages that they may look to Caesar for protection,' she said. "'Cesar not only makes the law, he is the law. He is either the personification of justice, or he is a tyrant. Which, Sublades, are you?' "'Cesar flushed. "'What mad whim is this child?' he demanded.

"'Who has set you to speak such words to Caesar?' "'I have not been prompted,' replied the girl wearily. "'It is my last hope, and though I knew beforehand that it was futile, "'I felt that I must not cast it aside as useless before putting it to the test.' "'Come, come,' snapped Caesar. "'Enough of this foolishness. "'Take your place before the priest and repeat your marriage vows.' "'You cannot refuse me,' cried the girl stubbornly.

"'I appeal to Caesar, which is my right as a citizen of Rome, "'the mother-city that we have never seen, "'but whose right to citizenship has been handed down to us from our ancient sires. "'Unless the spark of freedom is to be denied us, "'you cannot refuse me that right, Subladus.' "'The emperor paled and then flushed. with anger. "'Come to me tomorrow,' he said.

"'You shall have whatever you wish.' "'If you do not hear me now, there will be no tomorrow,' she said. "'I demand my rights now.' "'Well,' demanded Caesar coldly, "'what favor do you seek?' "'I seek no favor,' replied Delecta. "'I seek the right to know if the thing for which I am paying this awful price "'has been done as it was promised.'

"'What do you? mean, demanded Subladus. What proof do you wish? I wish to see Maximus Proclerus here alive and free, replied the girl, before I pledge my troth to Fastus. That, as you well know, was the price of my promise to wed him. Caesar arose angrily. That cannot be, he said. Oh, yes, it can be, cried a voice from the balcony at the side of the chamber. for Maximus Precleris stands just behind me. End of Chapter 18.

Chapter 19 of Tarzan and the Lost Empire by Edgar Rice Burroughs. This Liberbox recording is in the public domain. Tarzan and the Lost Empire. Chapter 19 Every eye turned in the direction of the balcony from which came the voice of the speaker. A gasp of astonishment arose from the crowd. in room. "'The barbarian! Maximus Procleris!' cried a score of voices. "'The guard! The guard!' screamed Caesar, as Tarzan leapt from the balcony to one of the tall

pillars that supported the roof and slid quickly to the floor, while behind him came six hairy apes. A dozen swords flashed from their scabbards as Tarzan and the six leapt toward the throne. Women screamed and fainted. Caesar shrank back upon his golden seat, momentarily paralyzed by terror. A noble with bared blade leaped in front of Tarzan to bar his way, but Goyad sprang full upon him. Yellow fangs bit once into his neck, and as the great ape arose and standing on the body of his kill roared forth his victory cry, the other noble shrank back. Fastus, with a scream turned and fled, and Tarzan leapt to delect his side. As the apes ascended the steps to the dais, Caesar, jabbering with terror, skidens.

settled from his seat and hid, half-fainting behind the great throne that was the symbol of his majesty and his power. But it was not long before the nobles and officers and soldiers in the apartment regained the presence of mine that the sudden advent of this horrid horde had scattered to the four winds, and now, seeing only the wild barbarian and six unarmed beasts threatening them, they pushed forward. Just then, a small door beneath the balcony from which Tarzan had descended to the floor of the throne room was pushed open, giving entrance to Maximus Proclerus, Cassius Haste,

Cecilius Mattelis, Npingo, and the others, who had accompanied Tarzan over the palace wall beneath the shadows of the great trees, into which the ape-man and the apes had assisted their less agile fellows. As Caesar's defenders sprang forward, they were met by some of the best swords in Castor Sanguinarius, as in the forefront of the fighting were the very gladiators whose exploits they had cheered during the week. Tarzan passed Delecta to Impingu, for he and Proclerus must lend a hand in the fighting. Slowly, Delector's defenders fell back before the greater number of nobles, soldiers, and guardsmen who were summoned from other parts of the palace. Back toward the little door they fell, while shoulder to shoulder with the gladiators and with Maximus Proclerus

and Hasta and Metellus, Tarzan fought. And the great ape spread consternation among all, because of their disposition to attack friend as well as foe. And out upon the Via Prince of Palace the crowd surged, and the great gates gave to a shrieking mob that poured into the palace grounds, overwhelming the guards, trampling them, trampling their own dead and their own living. But the veteran legionaries who composed the palace guard made a new stand at the entrance to the palace. Once more they checked the undisciplined rabble, which had by now grown to such proportions,

that the revolting troops who had joined them were lost in their midst. The guard had dragged an onager to the palace steps, and were discharging stones into the midst of the crowd, which continued to rush forward to fall upon the pikes of the palace defenders. In the distance, trumpets sounded from the direction of the Porta Decumana, and from the port of Prince of Palace dextra came the sound of advancing troops. At first, those upon the outskirts of the mob who had heard these sounds did not interpret them correctly. They cheered and shouted.

These cowards that hang always upon the fringe of every crowd, letting others take the risks and do the fighting for them, thought that more troops had revolted, and that the reinforcements were for them. But their joy was short-lived. For the first century that swung into the Via Prince Pallas from the Porta-decumana fell upon them with pike and sword, until those who were not slain escaped, screaming in all directions.

centuries after century came at the double. They cleared the Via Prince of Palace, and fell upon the mob within the palace court until the revolt dissolved into screaming individuals, fleeing through the darkness of the palace grounds, seeking any shelter that they might find, while terrible legionaries pursued them with flaming torches and bloody swords. Back into the little room from which they had come fell Tarzan and his followers. The doorway was small, and it was not different. for a few men to hold it. But when they would have retreated through the window they had entered

and gone back into the palace grounds to seek escape across the walls in the shadows of the old trees, they saw the ground was swarming with legionaries, and realized that the back of the revolt had been broken. The ante-room in which they had taken refuge would barely accommodate them all, but it offered probably the best refuge they could have found in all the palace of Subladus, for there were but two openings in it. The single small door, doorway leading into the throne room, and an even smaller window leading into the palace gardens. The walls were all stone and proof against any weapons at the disposal of the legionaries, but if the uprising had failed and the legionaries had not joined the people as they had expected,

of what value this temporary sanctuary? The instant that hunger and thirst assailed them, the same room would become their prison cell and torture chamber, and perhaps for many of them a vestibule to the grave. "'Ah, Delecta!' cried Proclaris, in the first moment that he could seize to go to her side. "'I have found you only to lose you again. My rashness perhaps has brought you death.' "'You're coming saved me from death,' replied the girl, drawing the dagger from her gown and exhibiting it to Procleris. "'I chose this as husband rather than fastest,' she said. "'So, if I die now, I have lived longer than I should have had you not come.

and at least I die happy, for we shall die together. This is no time to be speaking of dying, said Tarzan. Did you think a few hours ago that you would ever be together again? Well, here you are. Perhaps in a few more hours everything will be changed, and you will be laughing at the fears you are now entertaining. Some of the gladiators, who were standing near and had overheard Tarzan's words, shook their heads.

"'Any of us who gets out of this room alive,' said one, "'will be burned at the stake, or fed to lions, "'or pulled apart by wild buffalo. "'We are through. "'But it has been a good fight, "'and I for one thank this great barbarian for this glorious end.' "'Tarsan shrugged and turned away. "'I am not dead yet,' he said,

"'and not until I am dead is a time to think of it, "'and then it will be too late.' Maximus Procleras laughed. "'Perhaps you are right,' he said. "'What do you suggest? If we stay here we shall be slain, so you must have some plan for getting us out.' "'If we can discern no hope of advantage through our own efforts,' replied Tarzan,

"'we must look elsewhere and await such favors of fortune as may come from without, either through the intervention of our friends beyond the palace grounds or from the carelessness of the enemy himself. I admit that just at present our case appears desperate, but even so I am not without hope. At least we may be cheered by the realization that whatever turn events may take it must be for the better, since nothing could be worse. I do not agree with you, said Mattelis, pointing through the window.

See, they are setting up a small ballista in the garden. presently our condition will be much worse than it is now. The walls appear substantial, returned the ape-man. Do you think they can batter them down, Procleris? I doubt it, replied the Roman. But every missile that comes through the window must take its toll, as we are so crowded here that all of us cannot get out of range. The legionaries that have been summoned to the throne-room

have been held at the small doorway by a handful of gladiators. and the defenders had been able to close and barred the stout oaken door. For a time there had been silence in the throne-room, and no attempt was made to gain entrance to the room upon that side. While upon the garden side, two or three attempts to rush the window had been thwarted, and now the legionaries held off while the small ballista was being dragged into place and trained upon the palace wall. Delecta, having been placed in an angle of the room where she would be safest,

Tarsan and his lieutenants watched the operations of the legionaries in the garden. They do not seem to be aiming directly at the window, remarked Cassius Hasta. No, said Perclaris, I rather think they intend making a breach in the wall through which a sufficient number of them can enter to overpower us. If we could rush the ballista and take it, mused Tarzan, we could make it rather hot for them. Let us hold ourselves in readiness for that, if their missiles make it too hot for us in here. We shall have some advantage if we anticipate their assault by a sortie of our own. A dull thud upon the door at the opposite end of the room

brought the startled attention of the defenders to that quarter. The oak door sagged and the stone walls trembled to the impact. Cassius Hastas smiled wryly. They have brought a ram, he said. And now a heavy projectile shook the outer wall, and a piece of plaster crumbled to the floor upon the inside. The ballista had come into action. Once again, the heavy battering ram shivered the groaning timbers of the door, and the inmates of the room could hear the legionaries chanting the hymn of the ram to the cadence of which they swung it back and heaved

it forward. The troops in the garden went about their duty with quiet military efficiency. Each time a stone from the ballista struck the wall there was a shout. But there was nothing spontaneous in the demonstration, which seemed as perfunctory as the mechanical operation of the ancient war engine that delivered its missiles with almost clock-like regularity. The greatest damage that the ballista appeared to be doing was to the plaster on the inside of the wall, but the battering ram was slowly but surely battering the door

the opposite side of the room. Look, said Mattelis, they are altering the line of the ballista. They have discovered that they can affect nothing against the wall. They are aiming at the window, said Proclaris. Those of you who are in line with the window lie down upon the floor, commanded Tarzan. Quickly, the hammer is falling upon the trigger. The next missile struck one side of the window, carrying away a piece of the stone, and this time the result was followed by an enthusiastic.

out from the legionaries in the garden. That's what they should have done in the beginning, commented Husta. If they get the wall started at the edge of the window, they can make a breach more quickly there than elsewhere. That is evidently what they are planning on doing, said Mattelis, as a second missile struck in the same place, and a large fragment of the wall crumbled.

Look to the door, shouted Tarzan, as the weakened timber sagged to the impact of the ram. A dozen swordsmen stood ready and waiting to receive the legionaries, whose rush they expected the instant that the door fell. At one side of the room, the six apes crouched, growling, and kept in leash only by the repeated assurances of Tarzan that the man-things in the room with them were the friends of the ape-man. As the door crashed, there was a momentary silence, as each side waited to see what the other would do, and in the lull that ensued there came through the air a roar of.

sound ominous and threatening. And then, the shouts of the legionaries in the throne-room and the legionaries in the garden drowned all other sounds. The gap around the window had been enlarged. The missiles of the ballista had crumbled the wall from the ceiling to the floor, and as though in accordance with a pre-arranged plan, the legionaries assaulted simultaneously. One group rushing the doorway from the throne-room, the other the breach in the opposite wall. Tarzan turned toward the apes and pointing in the direction of the breached wall shouted, Stop them, Zutoh! Kill! Kill! The men near him looked at him in surprise, and perhaps they shuddered a little as they heard the growling voice of a beast issue from the throat of the giant

barbarian. But instantly they realized he was speaking to his hairy fellows, as they saw the apes spring forward with bared fangs, and growling hideously, throw themselves upon the first legionaries to reach the window. Two apes went down, pierced by Roman Pikes. But before the beastly rage of the others, Caesar's soldiers gave back. After them, cried Tarzan to Procleris, followed them into the garden, captured the ballista, and turn it upon the legionaries. We will hold the throne-room door until you have seized the ballista. Then we shall fall back upon you. After the battling apes rushed the three patricians, Maximus Proclerus, Cassius Hasta, and Cecilius Mattelus, leading gladiators, thieves, murderers, and slaves into the garden,

profiting by the temporary advantage the apes had gained for them. Side by side with the remaining gladiators, Tarzan fought to hold the legionaries back from the little doorway, until the balance of his party had won safely to the garden and seized the ballista. Glancing back, he saw him Pingo leading delecta from the room. in the rear of the escaped prisoners. Then he turned again to the defense of the doorway, which his little party held stubbornly until Tarzan saw the ballista in the hands of his own men,

and, giving step by step across the room, he and they backed through the breach in the wall. At a shout of command from Proclerus, they leapt to one side. The hammer fell upon the trigger of the ballista, which Perclarus had lined upon the window, and a heavy rock drove full into the faces of the legionaries. For a moment the fates had been kind to Tarzan and his fellows, but it soon became apparent that they were little, if any, better off here than in the room they had just quitted, for

in the garden they were ringed by legionaries. Pikes were flying through the air, and though the ballista and their own good swords were keeping the enemy at a respectful distance, there was none among them who believed that they could for long withstand the superior numbers and the better equipment of their adversaries. There came a pause in the fighting, which must necessarily be the case in hand-to-hand encounters, and as though by tacit agreement each side rested. The three whites watched the enemy closely. They are preparing for a concerted attack with Pikes, said Perclaris.

That will write Phineas to our earthly endeavors, remarked Cassius Hasta. May the gods receive us with rejoicing, said Cecilius Mattelis. I think the gods prefer them to us, said Tarzan. Why? demanded Cassius Hasta. Because they have taken so many more of them to heaven this night, replied the ape-man, pointing at the corpses lying about the garden, and Cassius Hasta smiled appreciatively. That will change in another moment, said Maximus Proclaris,

and turning to Delecta, he took her in his arms and kissed her. Goodbye, dear heart. He said, "'How fleeting is happiness! How futile the hopes of mortal man!' "'Not good-bye, Perclaris,' replied the girl. "'For where you go, I shall go.' And she showed him the slim dagger in her hand.

"'No,' cried the man. "'Promise me that you will not do that.' "'And why not? Is not death sweeter than fastest?' "'Perhaps you are right,' he said sadly. "'They come,' cried Cassius. has to. Ready, shouted Tarzan, give them all we have. Death is better than the dungeons of the Coliseum. End of Chapter 19. Chapter 20 of Tarzan and the Lost Empire by Edgar Rice Burroughs.

This Libravox recording is in the public domain. Tarzan and the Lost Empire. Chapter 20 From the far end of the garden, above the din of breaking battle, rose a savage cry, a new note that attracted the startled attention of the contestants upon both sides. Tarzan's head snapped to attention. His nostrils sniffed the air. Recognition, hope, surprise, increduity surged through his consciousness as he stood there with flashing eyes looking out over the heads of his adversaries. In increasing volume, the savage roar rolled into the garden of Caesar. The legionaries turned to face the vanguard of an army led by a horde of Ebon warriors, glistening giants from whose proud heads floated white feather bonnets,

and from whose throats issued the savage war cry that had filled the heart of Tarzan. The waziri had come. At their head Tarzan saw Muverro, and with him was Lukidi. But what the ape-man did not see, and what none of those in the Garden of Caesar saw until later, was the horde of warriors from the outer villages of Castrasaguanarius, that, following the waziri into the city, were already overrunning the palace seeking the vengeance that had so long been denied them. As the last of the legionaries in the garden threw down their arms and begged Tarzan's

protection, Mouviro ran to the ape-man, and kneeling at his feet, kissed his hand, and at the same instant a little monkey dropped from an overhanging tree onto Tarzan's shoulder. "'The gods of our ancestors have been good to the Waziri,' said Muviro. "'Otherwise we should have been too late.' "'I was puzzled as to how you found me,' said Tarzan, "'until I saw in Chima.' "'Yes, it was in Chima,' said Muviro. "'He came back to the country of the Waziri, to the land of Tarzan, and led us here.'

Many times we would have turned back, thinking that he was mad, but he urged us on, and we followed him, and now the big Buanna can come back with us to the home of his own people. No, said Tarzan, shaking his head. I cannot come yet. The son of my good friend is still in this valley. But you are just in time to help me rescue him, nor is there any time to lose. Legionaries, throwing down their arms, were running from the palace, for which came the shrieks and groans of the dying, and the savage hoots and cries of the avenging horde. Perclarus stepped to Tarzan's side.

Barbarians of the outer villages are attacking the city, murdering all who fall into their hands, he cried. We must gather what men we can and make us stand against them. Will these blacks, who have just come, fight with us against them? "'They will fight as I direct,' replied Tarzan. "'But I think it will not be necessary to make war upon the barbarians.' "'Lukiti, where are the white officers who command the barbarians?' "'Once they neared the palace,' replied Lucchiti,

"'the warriors became so excited that they broke away from their white leaders and followed their own chieftain. "'Go and fetch their greatest chief,' directed Tarzan. "'During the half-hour that followed, Tarzan and his lieutenants were busy reorganizing their forces into which were incorporated the legionaries who had surrendered to them, in caring for the wounded and planning for the future. From the palace came the hoarse cries of the hooting blacks, and Tarzan had about abandoned hope that Lukiti would be able to persuade a chief to come to him

when Lukiti returned, accompanied by two warriors from the outer villages, whose bearing and ornaments proclaimed them chieftains. "'You are the man called Tazan?' demanded one of the chiefs. The ape-man nodded. "'I am,' he said. "'We have been looking for you. "'This big ego said that you have promised that no more shall our people be taken into slavery, "'and no longer shall our warriors be condemned to the arena.

"'How can you, who are yourself a barbarian, guarantee this to us?' "'If I cannot guarantee it, you have the power to enforce it yourself,' replied the ape-man. and I, with my waziri, will aid you. But now you must gather your warriors. Let no one be killed from now on who does not oppose you. Gather your warriors, and take them into the avenue before the palace. And then come with your sub-chiefs to the throne-room of Caesar. There we shall demand and receive justice, not for the moment, but for all time.

Go. Eventually, the looting horde of blacks was quieted by their chiefs. chiefs and withdrawn to the Via Prince of Palace. Waziri warriors manned the shattered gate of Caesar's palace and lined the quarter to the throne room and the aisle to the foot of the throne. They formed a half-circle about the throne itself. And upon the throne of Caesar sat Tarzan of the apes, with Proclerus and Electa and Cassius Hastea and Cacciaus Hesda and Muvira about him. While Little Enkima sat upon his shoulder and complained bitterly. Fort Enkima,

as usual, was frightened and cold and hungry. Sun legionaries to fetch Subladas and Fastus, Tarzan directed Preclerus. For this business must be attended too quickly, as within the hour I march on Castro Marais. Flush with excitement, the legionaries that had been sent to fetch Sublattus and Fastus rushed into the throne room. Sublattis is dead, they cried. Fastus is dead.

The barbarians have slain them. The chambers and corridors above are filled with the bodies of senators, nobles, and officers of the Legion. "'Are none left alive?' demanded Precleris, paling. "'Yes,' replied one of the legionaries. "'There were many barricaded in another apartment who withstood the onslaught of the blacks. We explained to them that they are now safe, and they are coming to the throne-room.' "'And up the aisle marched the remnants of the wedding-guests.

the sweat and blood upon the men evidencing the dire straits from which they had been delivered, the women still nervous and hysterical. Leading them came Dion Splendetus, and at the sight of him, Delecta gave a cry of relief and pleasure, and ran down the steps of the throne and along the aisle to meet him. Tarzan's face lighted with relief when he saw the old senator, for his weeks in the home of Festivetus and his long incarceration with Maximus Preclerus in the dungeons of the Coliseum had familiarized him with the politics of castor sangrenarius. And now the presence of Dion Splendidus was all that he needed to complete the plans that the tyranny and cruelty of Sobladus had forced

upon him. He rose from the throne and raised his hand for silence. The hum of voices ceased. Caesar is dead. But upon his own. some one of you must fall the mantle of Caesar." "'Long live, Tarzan! Long live the new Caesar!' cried one of the gladiators, and instantly every sanguinarian in the room took up the cry. The ape-man smiled and shook his head. "'No,' he said, "'not I. But there is one here to whom I offer the imperial diadem upon the condition that he

fulfill the promises I have made to the barbarians of the outer villages. Dion Splendidus, will you accept the Imperial Purple with the understanding that the men of the outer villages shall be forever free, that no longer shall their girls or their boys be pressed into slavery, or their warriors forced to do battle in the arena? Dion Splendidus bowed his head in assent, and thus did Tarzan refuse the diadem and create a Caesar. End of Chapter 20. Chapter 21 of Tarzan and the Lost Empire by Edgar Rice Burroughs. This Libervox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 21

The yearly triumph of Alidas Augustus, Emperor of the East, had been a poor thing by comparison with that of Sublatus of Castrasanguinarius, though dignity and interest was lent the occasion by the presence of the much advertised barbarian chieftain, who strode in chains behind Caesar's chariot. The vain show of imperial power pleased Valetus Augustus, deceived perhaps the more ignorant of his subjects, and would have given Eric von Harbin cause for laughter, had he not realized the seriousness of his position.

No captive chain to the chariot of the greatest Caesar that ever lived had faced a more hopeless situation than he. What though he knew that a regiment of Marines, a squadron of Ullins, might have reduced this entire empire to Vassalage. What though he knew that the mayor of many a modern city could have commanded a fighting force far greater and much more effective than this little Caesar? The knowledge was only tantalizing, for the fact remained that Validas Augustus was supreme here, and there was neither regiment of Marines nor squadron of Ullans to question his behavior

toward the subject of a great republic that could have swallowed his entire empire without being unconscious of any discomfort. The triumph was over. Van Harbin had been returned to the cell that he occupied with Malius Lepus. "'You are back early,' said Lepus. "'How did the triumph of Alidas impress you?' "'It was not much of a show, if I may judge by the amount of enthusiasm displayed by the people.' "'The triumphs of Alidas are always poor things,' said Lepas. He would rather put ten talents in his belly or on his back than spend one Donarius to amuse the people.

And the games? asked Van Harbin. Will they be as poor? They do not amount too much, said Lepas. We have few criminals here, and as we have to purchase all our slaves, they are too valuable to waste in this way. Many of the contests are between wild beasts, and occasional thief or murder may be pitted against a gladiator, but for the most part, alitist depends upon professional gladiators and political prisoners, enemies or supposed enemies of Caesar.

More often, they are like you and I, victims of the lying and jealous intrigues of favorites. There are about twenty such in the dungeons now, and they will furnish the most interesting entertainment of the games. "'And if we are victorious, we are freed?' asked von Harbin. "'We shall not be victorious,' said Malius Lepis. "'Fovus has seen to that. you may rest assured. It is terrible, muttered von Harbin.

You are afraid to die? asked Malius Lepis. It is not that, said Van Harbin. I am thinking of Favonia. And well you may, said Malius Lepis. My sweet cousin would be happier dead than married to Folvis Phupus. I feel so helpless, said Van Harbin. Not a friend, not even my faithful body servant,

"'Oh, that reminds me,' exclaimed Lepus. "'They were here looking for him this morning.' "'Looking for him? Is he not confined in the dungeon?' "'He was, but he was detailed with other prisoners to prepare the arena last night, and during the darkness of early morning he is supposed to have escaped. But be that as it may, they were looking for him.' "'Good,' exclaimed von Harbin. "'I shall feel better just knowing that he is at large,

though there is nothing that he can do for me. Where could he have gone? Castramari is ill-guarded along its waterfront, but the lake itself and the crocodiles form a barrier as efficacious as many legionaries. Gabula may have scaled the wall, but the chances are that he is hiding within the city, protected by other slaves, or possibly by Septimus Favonius himself. I wish I might feel that the poor, faithful fellow had been able to escape the country and returned to his own people, said von Harbin. Malius Lepa shook his head. That is impossible, he said.

Though you came down over the cliff, he could not return that way. And even if he could find the past to the outer world, he would fall into the hands of the soldiers of Castasanguinarius, or the black barbarians of their outer villages. No, there is no chance that Gabula will escape. The time passed quickly, all too quickly, between the hour that Eric von Harbin was returned to his cell, following his exhibition in the triumph of Validus Augustus

and the coming of the Colosseum guards to drive them into the arena. The Colosseum was packed. The loges of the patricians were filled. The haughty Caesar of the East sat upon an ornate throne, shaded by a canopy of purple linen. Septimus Favonia sat with bowed head in his loge, and with him was his wife and Favonia. The girl sat with stare at,

eyes fixed upon the gateway from which the contestants were emerging. She saw her cousin, Malius Lepus, emerge, and with him, Eric von Harbin, and she shuddered and closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, the column was forming, and the contestants were marched across the white sands to receive the commands of Caesar. With Malius Lepas and von Harbin marched the twenty political prisoners, all of whom were of the patrician class. Then came the professional gladiators, coarse, brutal men, whose business it was to kill or be killed. Leading these, with a bold swagger, was one who had been championed gladiator of Costa Mari for five years. If the people had an idol, it was he. They roared their approval of him.

"'Claudeus Taurus! Claudius Taurus!' rose above a babble of voices. A few mean thieves, some frightened slaves, and a half-dozen lions, completely the victims that were to make a Roman holiday. Eric von Harbin had often been fascinated by the stories of the games of ancient Rome. Often had he pictured the Coliseum packed with its thousands and the contestants upon the white sand of the arena. But now he realized that they have been but pictures, but the photographs of his imagination.

The people in those dreams have been but picture people, automaton's, who move only when we'd look at them. When there had been action on the sand, the audience had been a silent etching, and when the audience had roared and turned its thumbs down, the actors had been mute and motionless. How different this! He saw the constant motion in the pack stands, the mosaic of a thousand dobs of color that became kaleidoscopic with every move of the multitude. He heard the hum of voices and sensed the offensive odor of many human bodies.

He saw the hawkers and vendors passing, along the aisles shouting their wares. He saw the legionaries stationed everywhere. He saw the rich in their canopy loges and the poor in the hot sun of the cheap seats. Sweat was trickling down the back of the neck of the patrician marching just in front of him. He glanced at Claudius Torres. He saw that his tunic was faded and that his hairy legs were dirty. He had always thought of gladiators as clean-limbed and resplendent. Claudius Taurus shocked him. He him. As they formed in solid rank before the loge of Caesar, Von Harbin smelled the black men pressing close behind him. The air was hot and oppressive. The whole thing was disgusting.

There was no grandeur to it, no dignity. He wondered if it had been like this in Rome. He then looked up into the loge of Caesar. He saw the man in gorgeous robes, sitting upon his carved throne. He saw naked black. He saw the loge of Caesar. He saw the man in gorgeous robes, sitting upon his carved throne. He saw naked black swaying long-handled fans of feathers above the head of Caesar. He saw large men in gorgeous tunics and cuirasses of shining gold. He saw the wealth and pomp and circumstance of power, and something told him that, after all, ancient Rome had probably been much as this was, that its populace had smelled, and that its gladiators had had hairy legs with dirt on them,

and that its patricians had sweated behind the ears. Perhaps Validus Augustus was as great as Caesar as any of them, for did he not rule half of his known world? Few of them had done more than this. His eyes wandered along the row of loges. The prefect of the Games was speaking, and von Harbin heard his voice, but the words did not reach his brain, for his eyes had suddenly met those of a girl. He saw the anguish and hopeless horror in her face, and he tried to smile as he looked at it. better, a smile of encouragement and hope, but she only saw the beginning of the smile, for the tears came and the image of the man she loved was only a dull blur like the pain in her heart.

A movement in the stands behind the loges attracted von Harbin's eyes, and he puckered his brows, straining his faculties to assure himself that he must be mistaken, but he was not. What he had seen was Gabula. He was moving toward the imperial loge, where he disappeared behind the hangings that formed the background of seizure's throne. Then the prefect ordered them from the arena, and as Van Harbin moved across the sand, he tried to find some explanation of Gabula's presence there, what Aaron had brought him to so dangerous a place.

The contestants had traversed but half the width of the arena returning to their cells, when a sudden scream, ringing out behind them, caused them all to turn. Von Harbin saw that the disturbance came from the Imperial Loge, but the scene that met his startled gaze seemed too preposterous to have greater substance than a dream. Perhaps it was all a dream. Perhaps there was no Castromare. Perhaps there was no Validus Augustus. Perhaps there was no—ah, but that could not be true. There was a Favonia, and this preposterous thing then that he was looking at was true, too.

He saw a black man holding Caesar by the throat and driving a dagger into his heart with the other, and the black man was Gabula. It all happened so quickly and was over so quickly that scarcely had Caesar shriek wrung through the coliseum, then he lay dead at the foot of his carved throne, and Gabula, the assassin, in a single leap, had cleared the arena wall and was running across the sand toward von Harbin. "'I have avenged upana,' cried the black man. No matter what they do to you, you are avenged.

A great groan arose from the audience, and then a cheer as someone shouted, Caesar is dead! A hope flashed to the breast of Anharbon. He turned and grabbed Malius Lepas by the arm. Caesar is dead, he whispered. Now is our chance. What do you mean? demanded Malius Lepas. In a confusion we can escape.

We can hide in the city, and at night we can take Favonia with us and go away. "'Where?' asked Malius Lepis. "'God, I do not know,' exclaimed von Harbin. "'But anywhere would be better than here, "'for Fovus is Caesar, "'and if we do not save Avonia to-night, "'it will be too late.' "'You are right,' said Malius Lepis.

"'Pass the word to the others,' said Van Harbin. "'The more there are who try to escape, "'the better chance there will be for some of us to succeed.' "'The legionaries and their officers, as well as the vast multitude could attend only upon what was happening in the loge of Caesar. So few of them had seen what really occurred there that as yet there had been no pursuit of Gabula. Malius Lepus turned to the other prisoners.

The gods have been good to us, he cried. Caesar is dead, and in the confusion we can escape. Come! As Malius Lepus started on a run toward the gateway that led to the cells beneath the Coliseum, the shouting prisoners fell in behind him. Only those of the professional gladiators who were freemen held aloof, but they made no effort to stop them. "'Good luck!' shouted Claudius Taurus as von Harbin passed him. "'Now, if someone would kill Fulvis Phupus, we might have a Caesar who is a Caesar!' The sudden rush of the escaping prisoners so confused and upset the few guards beneath the Coliseum

that they were easily overpowered, and a moment later the prisoners found themselves in the streets of Castromare. "'Where now?' cried one. "'We must scatter,' Malius Lepus. "'Each man for himself.' "'We shall stick together, Malius Lepus,' said Van Harbin. "'To the end,' replied the Roman. "'And here is Gubula,' said Van Harbin, as the black joined them. "'He shall come with us.'

"'We cannot desert the brave Gabila,' said Malius Lepas. "'But the first thing for us to do is to find a hiding-place.' "'There is a low wall across the avenue,' said von Harbin, "'and there are trees beyond it.' "'Come, then,' said Malius Lepis. "'It is as good for now as any other place.' The three men hurried across the avenue and scaled the low wall, finding themselves in a garden so overgrown with weeds on underbrush

that they at once assumed that it was deserted. Creeping through the weeds and forcing their way through the underbrush, they came to the rear of a house. A broken door, hanging by one hinge, windows from which the wooden blinds had fallen, an accumulation of rubbish upon the threshold marked the dilapidated structure as a deserted house. Perhaps this is just a place for us to hide until night, said von Harbin. Its proximity to the Coliseum is its greatest advantage, said Melius Lepis, for they will be sure to believe that we have rushed as far from our dungeon as we could.

Let us go in and investigate. We must be sure that the place is uninhabited. The rear room, which had been the kitchen, had a crumbling brick oven in one corner, a bench and a dilapidated table. Crossing the kitchen, they entered an apartment beyond and saw that these two tombs constituted all that there was to the house. The front room was large,

and as the blinds at the windows facing the avenue had not fallen, it was dark within it. In one corner they saw a left, ladder reaching to a trap-door in the ceiling, which evidently led to the roof of the building. And two or three feet below the ceiling, and running entirely across the end of the room where the ladder arose was a false ceiling, which formed a tiny loft just below the roof beams, a place utilized by former tenants as a storage room. A more careful examination of the room revealed nothing more than a pile of filthy rags against one wall, the remains, perhaps, of some

homeless beggars' bed. "'It could not have been better,' said Malius Lepus, "'if this had been built for us. Why, we have three exits if we are hard-pressed. One into the back garden, one into the avenue in front, and the third to the roof.' "'We can remain in safety, then,' said Van Harbin, until after dark, when it should be easy to make our way unseen through the dark streets to the home of Septimus Favonius. End of Chapter XX21. Chapter 22 of Tarzan and the Lodagh Lost Empire by Edgar Rice Burroughs.

This Libervox recording is in the public domain. Tarzan and the Lost Empire. Chapter 22 East along the Via Mare from Castra Sanguinarius marched 5,000 men. The white plumes of the Waziri nodded at the back of Tarzan. Stallwart legionaries followed Maximus Precleris, while the black warriors of the outer villages brought up the rear. Sweating slaves dragged catapults, ballastis,

Testudones, huge battering rams, and other ancient engines of war. There were scaling ladders and wallhooks and devices for throwing fireballs into the defenses of an enemy. The heavy engines had delayed the march, and Tarzan had chafed at the delay, but he had to listen to Maximus Proclerus and Cassius Hasta

and Cecilius Mattelis, all of whom had assured him that the fort, which defended the only road to Castumari, could not be taken by assault without the aid of these mechanical engines of war. Along the hot and dusty Viamare, the Waziri swung, chanting the war songs of their people. The hardened legionaries, their heavy helmets dangling against their breasts dangling against their breasts from cores that passed about their necks,

their packs on forked sticks across their shoulders, the great oblong shields hanging in their leather covers at their backs, cursed and grumbles as became veterans, while the warriors from the outer villages laughed and sang and chattered as might a party of picnickers. As they approached the fort with its moat and embankment and palisade and towers, slaves were bearing the body of Alidas Augustus to his palace within the city, and full of his Phupus, surrounded by fawning sycophants, was proclaiming himself Caesar, though he trembled inwardly in contemplation of what fate might lie before him,

for though he was a fool, he knew that he was not popular, and that many a noble patrician with a strong following had a better right to the imperial purple than he. Throughout the city of Castrumare, legionary search for the escaped prisoners, and especially for the black slave who had struck down Validus Augustus, though they were handicapped by the fact that no one had recognized Gabula, for there were few in the city, and certainly none in the entourage of Caesar,

who was familiar with the face of the black from distant Urambe. a few of the thieves and five or six gladiators who were condemned felons and not freemen had clung together in the break for freedom. And presently they found themselves in hiding in a low part of the city, in a den where wine could be procured and where there were other forms of entertainment for people of their class. "'What sort of a seizure will this fulvas-fupus make?' asked one. "'It will be worse than Validas Augustus,' said another. "'I have seen him in the baths where I once worked.'

He is vain and dull and ignorant. Even the patricians hate him. They say he is going to marry the daughter of Septimus Favonius. I saw her in the Coliseum today, said another. I know her well by sight, for she used to come to the shop of my father and make purchases before I was sent to the dungeons. Have you ever been to the house of Septimus Favonius? asked another.

Yes, I have, said the youth. Twice I took goods there for her inspection, going through the forecourt and into the inner garden. I know the place well. If one like her should happen to fall into the hands of a few poor convicts, they might win their freedom and a great ransom, suggested a low-browed fellow with evil, cunning eyes. And be drawn asunder by wild oxen for their pains. We must die anyway if we are caught. It is a good plan.

They drank again for several minutes in silence, evidencing that the plan was milling in their minds. The new Caesar should pay an enormous ransom for his bride. The youth rose eagerly to his feet. I will lead you to the home of Septimus Favonius, and guarantee that they will open the gate from me and let me in, as I know what to say. All I need is a bundle, and I will tell the slave that

it contains goods that my father wishes Favonia to inspect. "'You are not such a fool as you look.' "'No, and I shall have a large share of the ransom for my part in it,' said the youth. "'If there is any ransom, we shall share and share alike.' Night was falling as Tarzan's army halted before the defenses of Castromare. Cassius Hasta, to whom the reduction of the fort had been entrusted, disposed his forces and supervised the placing of his various engines of war. Within the city, Eric von Harbin and Malleus Lepas discussed the details of their plans.

It was the judgment of Lepas to wait until after midnight before making any move to leave their hiding place. The streets will be deserted then, said Malius Lepus, except for an occasional patrol upon the Principal Avenue, and these may be easily eluded, since the torches that they carry proclaim their approach long before there is any danger of their apprehending us. "'I have the key to the gate of my uncle's garden, which ensures that we may enter the ground silently and unobserved.' "'Perhaps you are right,' said von Harbin. "'But I dread the long wait, and the thought of further inaction seems unbearable.'

"'Have patience, my friend,' said Malius Lepus. "'Fovus will be too busy with his new Caesar ship to give heed to odd else for some time, and Favonia will be safe from him, certainly for the next few hours at least.' And as they discussed the matter, a youth knocked upon the door of the home of Septimus Favonius. Beneath the shadow of the trees along the wall, darker shadows crouched. A slave bearing a lamp came to the door in answer to the knocking, and speaking through a small grill, asked who was without, and what the nature of his business. I am the son of Tabernarius, said the youth.

I have brought fabrics from the shop of my father that the daughter of Septimus Favonius may inspect them. The slave hesitated. "'You must remember me,' said the youth. "'I have been here often.' And the slave held the light a little bit higher and peered through the grill. "'Yes,' he said, "'your face is familiar. I will go and ask my mistress if she wishes to see you.

Wait here.' "'These fabrics are valuable,' said the youth, holding up a bundle, which he carried under his arm. "'Let me stand just within the vestibule, lest thieves sat upon me and robbed me. Very well, said the slave, and opening the gate, he permitted the youth to enter. Remain here until I return. As the slave disappeared into the interior of the house,

the son of Tabernarius turned quickly and withdrew the bolt that secured the door. Opening it quickly, he leaned out to voice a low signal. Instantly, the denser shadows beneath the shadowy trees moved, and were resolved into the figures of men. Scurring like vermin, they hurried through the doorway and into the home of Septimus Favonius, and into the ante-room off the vestibule, the son of Tabernarius hustled them. Then he closed both doors and waited. Presently the slave returned.

The daughter of Septimus Favonius recalls having ordered no goods from Tabernarius, he said, nor does she feel in any mood to inspect fabrics this night. Return them to your father, and tell him that, when the daughter of Septimus Favonius wishes to purchase, she will come herself to his shop. Now this was not what the son of Tabornerius desired, and he racked his crafty brain for another plan. Though to the slave he appeared but as stupid youth, staring at the floor in too much embarrassment even to take his departure. "'Come,' said the slave, approaching the door and laying hold of the bolt.

"'You must be going.' "'Wait,' whispered the youth, "'I have a message for Favonia. I did not wish anyone to know it, and for that reason I spoke of bringing fabrics as an excuse. Where is the message, and from whom? demanded the slave suspiciously. It is for her ears only. Tell her this, and she will know from whom it is. The slave hesitated. Fetch her here, said the youth. It will be better that no other member of the household sees me. The slave shook his head.

I will tell her, he said, for he knew that Malius Lepas and Eric von Harbin had escaped from the Coliseum, and he guessed that the message might be from one of these. As he hastened back to his mistress, the son of Tabernarius smiled, for though he knew not enough of Avonia to know from whom she might reasonably expect a secret message, yet he knew there were few young women who might not, at least hopefully, expect a clandestine communication. He had not long to wait before the slave returned, and with him came Favonia. Her excitement was evident as she hastened eagerly forward toward the youth. "'Tell me,' she cried, "'you have brought word from him.'

The son of Tabernarius raised a forefinger to his lip to caution her to silence. "'No one must know that I am here,' he whispered, "'and no ears but yours may hear my message. "'Send your slave away.' "'You may go,' said Favon. Favonia to the slave. I will let the young man out when he goes. And the slave, glad to be dismissed, content to be relieved of responsibility, moved silently away into the shadows of a corridor, and thence into the uncharted limbo into which pass slaves and other lesser people when one

has done with them. "'Tell me!' cried the girl. "'What word do you bring? Where is he?' "'He is here,' whispered the youth, pointing to the ante-room. "'Here?' exclaimed Favonia incredulously. "'Yes, here,' said the youth. "'Come!' And he led her to the door, and as she approached it, he seized her suddenly, and, clapping a hand over her mouth, dragged her into the dark ante-room beyond.

Rough hands seized her quickly, and she was gagged and bound. She heard them converse in low whispers. "'We will separate here,' said one. "'Two of us will take her to the place we have selected. One of you will have to leave the note for Fovus Fupus, so the palace guards will find it. The rest of you scatter,

and go by different routes to the deserted house across from the Coliseum. Do you know the place? I know it well. Many is the night that I have slept there. Very well, said the first speaker, who seemed to be the leader. Now be off.

We have no time to waste. Wait, said the son of Tabernarius. The division of the ransom has not yet been decided. Without me, you could have done nothing. I should have at least half. "'Shut up, or you will be lucky if you get anything,' growled the leader. "'A knife between his ribs would do him good,' muttered another. "'You will not give me what I asked?' demanded the youth.

"'Shut up,' said the leader. "'Come along now, men.' And carrying Favonia, whom they wrapped in a soiled and ragged cloak, they left the home of Septimus Favonius unobserved. And as two men carried a heavy bundle through the dark shadows beneath the shadowy trees, the son of Tabernarius started away in the opposite direction. A youth ensued in ragged tunic and rough sandals approached the gates of Caesar's palace. A legionary challenged him, holding him at a distance with the point of his pike.

"'What do you loitering by the palace of Caesar by night?' demanded the legionary. "'I have a message for Caesar,' replied the youth. The legionary guffawed. "'Will you come in, or shall I send Caesar out to you?' he demanded ironically. "'You may take the message to him yourself, soldier,' replied the other, "'and if you know what is good for you, you will not delay.' The seriousness of the youth's voice finally compelled the attention of the legionary. "'Well,' he demanded, out with it.

"'What message have you for Caesar?' "'Hasen to him, and tell him that the daughter of Septimus Favonius has been abducted, and that if he hastens, he will find her in the deserted house that stands upon the corner opposite the chariot entrance to the Coliseum. "'Who are you?' demanded the legionary. "'Never mind,' said the youth. "'Tomorrow I shall come for my reward.' And he turned and sped away before the legionary could detain him.

"'At this rate, midnight will never come,' said von Harbin. Malius Lepas laid a hand upon the shoulder of his friend. You are impatient, but remember that it will be safer for Vivonia as well as for us if we wait until after midnight, for the streets now must be full of searchers. All afternoon we have heard soldiers passing. It is a miracle that they have not searched this place. Pst, cautioned Van Harbin. What was that? It sounded like the creaking of the gate in front of the house, said Malius Lepis.

They are coming, said Van Harbin. The three men seized the swords with which they had armed themselves after they had rushed the Coliseum Guard, and following a plan they had already decided upon in the event that searchers approached their hiding-place, they scaled the ladder and crept out upon the roof. Leaving the trap-door pushed slightly to one side, they listened to the sounds that were now coming from below, ready to take instant action should there be any indication that the searchers might mount the ladder to the roof. Van Harbin heard voices coming from below. "'Well, we made it,' said one,

"'and no one saw us. Here comes the others now.' And von Harbin heard the gate creak again on its rusty hinges. Then the door of the house opened, and he heard several people enter. "'This is a good night's work,' said one. "'Is she alive? I cannot hear her breathe. Take the gag from her mouth. And let her scream for help?

We can keep her quiet. She is worth nothing to us dead. "'All right, take it out.' "'Listen you. We will take the gag out of your mouth, but if you scream, it will be the worst for you.' "'I shall not scream,' said a woman's voice in familiar tones, that said Von Harbin's heart to palpitating, though he knew that it was nothing more than his imagination that suggested the seeming familiarity.

"'We shall not hurt you,' said the man's voice, "'if you keep quiet and Caesar sends the ransom.' "'And if he does not send it?' asked the girl. "'Then perhaps your father, Septimus Favonius, will pay the price we ask.' "'Heavens,' muttered von Harbin. "'Did you hear that, Lepas?' "'I heard,' replied the Roman. "'Then come,' whispered Van Harbin.

"'Come, Gubula. "'Favonia is below.' Casting discretion to the wind, von Harbin tore the trap from the opening in the roof and dropped into the darkness below, followed by Malius Lepas and Gabula. Favonia, he cried, it is I. Where are you? Here, cried the girl.

Rushing blindly in the direction of her voice, von Harbin encountered one of the abductors. The fellow grappled with him, while terrified by fear that the legionaries were upon them, the others bolted from the building. As they went, they left the door open, and the light of a full moon dissipated the darkness of the interior, revealing von Harbin struggling with a burly fellow who had seized the other's throat

and was now trying to draw his dagger from its sheath. Instantly Malius Lepus and Gabula were upon him, and a quick thrust of the former sword put a definite period to the earthly rascality of the criminal. Free from his antagonist, Van Harbin leapt to his feet and ran to Favonia, where she lay upon a pile of dirty rags against the wall. Quickly he cut her bonds and soon they had her story. "'If you are no worse for the fright,' said Melius Lepis, "'we may thank these scoundrels for simplifying our task,

for here we are ready to try for our escape a full three hours earlier than we had hoped.' "'Let us lose no time, then,' said Van Harbin. "'I shall not breathe freely until I am across the wall.' "'I believe we have little to fear now,' said Mellius Lepis. "'The wall is poorly guarded. "'There are many places where we can scale it, and I know a dozen places where we can find boats that are used by the fishermen of the city. What lies beyond is upon the knees of the gods.

Kabula, who had been standing in the doorway, closed the door quickly, and crossed to Van Harbin. Lights are coming down the avenue, Buanna, he said. I think many men are coming. Perhaps they are soldiers. The four listened intently until they made out distinctly the measured tread of marching men. "'Some more searchers,' said Malius Lepus. "'When they have passed on their way, it will be safe to depart.' The light from the torches of the legionaries approached until it shone through the cracks in the wooden blinds,

but it did not pass on as they had expected. Malius Lepus put an eye to an opening in one of the blinds. "'They have halted in front of the house,' he said. "'A part of them are turning the corner, but the rest are remaining.' They stood in silence for what seemed a long time, though it was only a few minutes. And then they heard sounds coming from the garden behind the house, and the light of torches was visible through the open kitchen door. "'We are surrounded,' said Lepas.

"'They're coming in the front way. They're going to search the house.' "'What shall we do?' cried Favonia. "'The roof is our only hope,' whispered Van Harbin. "'But even as he spoke, the sound of sandaled feet was heard upon the roof. and the light of torture shone through the open trap. "'We are lost,' said Malius Lepus. "'We cannot defeat an entire century of legionaries.' "'We can fight them, though,' said Van Harbin.

"'At risk Favonia's life uselessly,' said Lepis. "'You are right,' said Van Harbin sadly, and then—' "'Wait, I have a plan. Come, Favonia, quickly. Lie down here upon the floor, and I will cover you with these rags.' "'There is no reason why we should all be taken. Malius Lepas, Gabula, and I may not escape.

But they will never guess that you are here. And when they are gone, you can easily make your way to the guardhouse in the Coliseum, where the officer in charge will see that you are given protection and an escort to you home. "'Let them take me,' said the girl. "'If you were to be captured, let me be captured also.' "'It will do no good,' said von Harbin. "'They would only separate us. and if you are found here with us, it may bring suspicion upon Septimus Favonius.

Without further argument, she threw herself upon the floor, resigned in the face of Unharbin's argument, and he covered her over with the rags that had been a beggar's bed. End of Chapter 22. Chapter 23 of Tarzan and the Lost Empire by Edgar Rice Burroughs. This Libervox recording is in the public domain. Zan and the Lost Empire Chapter 23 By the time that Cassius Hasta had disposed his forces

and placed his engines of war before the defenses of Castumare, he discovered that it was too dark to open his assault that day. But he could carry out another plan that he had, and so he advanced toward the gate, accompanied by Tarzan, Mattelis, and Procleras, and proceeded by torch-bearers and a legionary bearing a flag of truce. Within the fort, great excitement had reigned from the moment that the advancing troops had been cited. Word had been said to Fulvis Fupus, and reinforcements had been hurried to the fort.

It was assumed by all that Sublattus had inaugurated a new raid upon a larger scale than usual, but they were ready to meet it, nor did they anticipate defeat. As the officer commanding the defender saw the party approaching with a flag of truce, he demanded from a tower gate the nature of their mission. I have two demands to make upon Validas Augustus, said Cassius Hasta. One is that he free Malius Lepus and Eric von Harbin, and the other is that he permit me to return to Castra Marais and enjoy the privileges of my station. Who are you? demanded the officer.

I am Cassius Hasta. You should know me well. The gods are good, cried the officer. Long live, Cassius Hasta! "'Down with Fulves Fupus!' cried a hoarse chorus of rough voices. Someone threw open the gates, and the officer, an old friend of Cassius Hasta, rushed out and embraced him. "'What is the meaning of all this?' demanded Cassius Hasta. "'What has happened?'

"'Velidis Augustus is dead.' "'He was assassinated at the games today, and Fulvis Fupus has assumed the title of Caesar. "'You are indeed come in time. All Castromare will welcome you. Along the Via Marae from the castle to the lakeshore and across the pontoon bridge to the island marched the army of the new emperor of the east, while the news spread through the city and crowds gathered and shrieked their welcome to Cassius Hasda. In a deserted house across the avenue from the Coliseum, four fugitives awaited the coming of the legionaries of Phobus.

It was evident that the soldiers intended to take no chances. They entirely surrounded the bishops. building, and they seemed to be in no hurry to enter. Von Harbin had had ample time to cover Favonia with the rags, so that she was entirely concealed before the legionaries entered simultaneously from the garden, the avenue, and the roof, torch-bearers lighting their way. "'It is useless to resist,' said Malius Lepas to the officer who accompanied the men in from the avenue.

We were returned to the dungeons peaceably. "'Not so fast,' said the officer. "'Where is the girl?' "'What girl?' demanded Malius Lepis. "'The daughter of Septimus Favonius, of course.' "'How should we know?' demanded von Harbin. "'You abducted her and brought her here,' replied the officer. "'Searched the room,' he commanded,

and a moment later a legionary uncovered Favonium and raised her to her feet. The officer laughed as he ordered the three men disarmed. "'Wait,' said Van Harbin, "'what are you going to do with the daughter of Septimus Favon?' Will you see that she has a safe escort to her father's house?' "'I am taking my orders from Caesar,' replied the officer. "'What has Caesar to do with this?' demanded von Harbin. "'He has ordered us to bring Favonia to the palace and to slay her abductors on the spot.'

"'Then Caesar shall pay for us all with legionaries,' cried Van Harbin, and with his sword he fell upon the officer in the doorway, while Gabula and Malius Lepus spurred by a similar determination to sell their lives as dearly as possible, rushed those who were descending the ladder and entering the kitchen door. Taken by surprise and momentarily disconcerted by the sudden and unexpected assault, the legionaries fell back. The officer, who managed to elude von Harbin's thrust, escaped from the building and summoned a number of the legionaries who were armed with pikes.

"'There are three men in that room,' he said, and a woman. Kill the men, but be sure that the woman is not harmed. In the avenue, the officer saw people running, heard them shouting. He saw them stop as they were questioned by some of his legionaries, whom he had left in the avenue. He had not given the final order for his pikemen to enter the building because his curiosity had momentarily distracted his attention. As he turned now, however, to order them in, his attention was again distracted by a tumult of voices that rose in great cheers and rolled up the avenue from the direction of the bridge that connects the city with the Via Mari and the fort. As he turned to look,

he saw the flare of many torches, and now he heard the blare of trumpets and the thud of marching feet. What had happened? He had known, as had everyone in Costa Mare, that the forces of Sibladas were camped before the fort, but he knew that there had been no battle, and so this could have been could not be the army of Sublattus entering Castramare, but it was equally strange if the defenders of Castramari should be marching away from the fort while it was menaced by an enemy army. He could not understand these things, nor could he understand why the people were cheering. As he stood there watching the approach of the marching column, the shouts of the people took on form and he heard the name of Cassius Hasta distinctly.

"'What has happened?' he demanded, shouting to the men in the same. Street. Cassius Hasta has returned at the head of a big army, and Fulvis Phupus has already fled and is in hiding. The shouted question and the equally loud reply were heard by all within the room. We are saved, cried Malleus Lepis, for Cassius Hasta will harm no friend of Septimus Favonius. Aside now, you fools, if you know when you are well off, and he advanced toward the doorway. Back men, cried the officer. Back to the avenue. Let no hand be raised against Malleus Lepus, or these other friends of Cassius Hasta, Emperor of the East.

I guess this fellow knows which side his bread is butted on, commented Van Harbin with a grin. Together, Favonia, Van Harbin, Lepis, and Gubula stepped from the deserted building into the avenue. Approaching them, they saw the head of a column of marching men, flaming torches lighted the scene until it was almost as bright as day. "'There is Cassius Hasta,' exclaimed Malius Lepus.

"'It is indeed he, but who are those with him?' "'They must be sanguinarians,' said Favonia. "'But look, one of them is garbed like a barbarian, and see the strange black warriors with their white plumes that are marching behind them.' "'I have never seen the like in all my life,' exclaimed Malius Lepis. "'Neither have I,' said Van Harbin. "'But I am sure that I recognize you. them, for their fame is great, and they answer the description that I have heard a thousand

times. "'Who are they?' asked Favonia. "'The white giant is Tarzan of the apes, and the black warriors are his waziri fighting men.' At sight of the legionary standing before the house Cassius Hasta halted the column. "'Where is the centurion in command of these troops?' he demanded. "'It is I, glorious Caesar,' replied the officer, who had come to a arrest the abductors of Favonia.

Does it happen that you are one of the detachment sent out by Fulvis Fupus to search for Malleus Lepis and the barbarian von Harbin? "'We are here, Caesar,' cried Malius Lepis, while Favonia, von Harbin and Gabula followed behind him. "'May that gods be praised!' exclaimed Cassius Hasta, as he embraced his old friend. "'But where is the barbarian chieftain from Germania, whose fame has reached even to Castra-Sanguinarius?' "'This is he,' said Mellius Lepis. "'This is Eric von Harbin.'

Tarzan stepped nearer. "'You are Eric von Harbin?' he asked in English. "'And you are Tarzan of the apes, I know,' returned Van Harbin in the same language. "'You look every inch a Roman,' said Tarzan with a smile. "'I feel every inch a barbarian, however,' grinned von Harbin. "'Roman or barbarian, your father will be glad when I bring you back to him. You came here in search of me, Tarzan of the Apes? demanded Van Harbin. And I seem to have arrived just in time, said the ape-man.

How can I ever thank you? exclaimed Von Harbin. Do not thank me, my friend, said the ape-man. Thank Little Enkima. End of Chapter 23. The End of Tarzan and the Lost Empire by Edgar Rice Burroughs.