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Burroughs, Edgar Rice, 1875-1950

"Son of Tarzan"

Outside the grim
sentinel of death kept his grisly vigil. Sniffing at his dead feet
whined a mangy native cur. At sight of the two emerging from the
hut the beast gave an ugly snarl and an instant later as it caught
the scent of the strange white man it raised a series of excited
yelps. Instantly the warriors at the near-by fire were attracted.
They turned their heads in the direction of the commotion. It
was impossible that they should fail to see the white skins of the
fugitives.
Korak slunk quickly into the shadows at the hut's side, drawing
Meriem with him; but he was too late. The blacks had seen enough
to arouse their suspicions and a dozen of them were now running to
investigate. The yapping cur was still at Korak's heels leading
the searchers unerringly in pursuit. The youth struck viciously
at the brute with his long spear; but, long accustomed to dodging
blows, the wily creature made a most uncertain target.
Other blacks had been alarmed by the running and shouting of their
companions and now the entire population of the village was swarming
up the street to assist in the search.


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