When Pan-at-lee awoke she looked out upon the niche in search of Tarzan.He was not there.She sprang to her feet and rushed out, looking down into Kor-ul-gryf guessing that he had gone down in search of food and there she caught a glimpse of him disappearing into the forest.For an instant she was panic-stricken.She knew that he was a stranger in Pal-ul-don and that, so, he might not realize the dangers that lay in that gorge of terror.Why did she not call to him to return? You or I might have done so, but no Pal-ul-don, for they know the ways of the gryf--they know the weak eyes and the keen ears, and that at the sound of a human voice they come.To have called to Tarzan, then, would but have been to invite disaster and so she did not call.Instead, afraid though she was, she descended into the gorge for the purpose of overhauling Tarzan and warning him in whispers of his danger.It was a brave act, since it was performed in the face of countless ages of inherited fear of the creatures that she might be called upon to face.Men have been decorated for less.
Pan-at-lee, descended from a long line of hunters, assumed that Tarzan would move up wind and in this direction she sought his tracks, which she soon found well marked, since he had made no effort to conceal them.She moved rapidly until she reached the point at which Tarzan had taken to the trees.Of course she knew what had happened; since her own people were semi-arboreal; but she could not track him through the trees, having no such well-developed sense of scent as he.
She could but hope that he had continued on up wind and in this direction she moved, her heart pounding in terror against her ribs, her eyes glancing first in one direction and then another.
She had reached the edge of a clearing when two things happened--she caught sight of Tarzan bending over a dead deer and at the same instant a deafening roar sounded almost beside her.
It terrified her beyond description, but it brought no paralysis of fear.Instead it galvanized her into instant action with the result that Pan-at-lee swarmed up the nearest tree to the very loftiest branch that would sustain her weight.Then she looked down.
The thing that Tarzan saw charging him when the warning bellow attracted his surprised eyes loomed terrifically monstrous before him--monstrous and awe-inspiring; but it did not terrify Tarzan, it only angered him, for he saw that it was beyond even his powers to combat and that meant that it might cause him to lose his kill, and Tarzan was hungry.There was but a single alternative to remaining for annihilation and that was flight--swift and immediate.And Tarzan fled, but he carried the carcass of Bara, the deer, with him.He had not more than a dozen paces start, but on the other hand the nearest tree was almost as close.His greatest danger lay, he imagined, in the great, towering height of the creature pursuing him, for even though he reached the tree he would have to climb high in an incredibly short time as, unless appearances were deceiving, the thing could reach up and pluck him down from any branch under thirty feet above the ground, and possibly from those up to fifty feet, if it reared up on its hind legs.
But Tarzan was no sluggard and though the gryf was incredibly fast despite its great bulk, it was no match for Tarzan, and when it comes to climbing, the little monkeys gaze with envy upon the feats of the ape-man.And so it was that the bellowing gryf came to a baffled stop at the foot of the tree and even though he reared up and sought to seize his prey among the branches, as Tarzan had guessed he might, he failed in this also.And then, well out of reach, Tarzan came to a stop and there, just above him, he saw Pan-at-lee sitting, wide-eyed and trembling.
"How came you here?" he asked.
She told him."You came to warn me!" he said."It was very brave and unselfish of you.I am chagrined that I should have been thus surprised.The creature was up wind from me and yet I did not sense its near presence until it charged.I cannot understand it."
"It is not strange," said Pan-at-lee."That is one of the peculiarities of the gryf--it is said that man never knows of its presence until it is upon him--so silently does it move despite its great size."
"But I should have smelled it," cried Tarzan, disgustedly.