The blow that this naked white warrior
had once struck him added fuel to his rage. He could think of
nothing adequate to the creature's offense.
And as he sat there looking upon Korak the silence was broken by
the trumpeting of an elephant in the jungle beyond the palisade.
A half smile touched Korak's lips. He turned his head a trifle in
the direction from which the sound had come and then there broke
from his lips, a low, weird call. One of the blacks guarding him
struck him across the mouth with the haft of his spear; but none
there knew the significance of his cry.
In the jungle Tantor cocked his ears as the sound of Korak's voice
fell upon them. He approached the palisade and lifting his trunk
above it, sniffed. Then he placed his head against the wooden logs
and pushed; but the palisade was strong and only gave a little to
the pressure.
In The Sheik's tent The Sheik rose at last, and, pointing toward
the bound captive, turned to one of his lieutenants.
"Burn him," he commanded. "At once. The stake is set."
The guard pushed Korak from The Sheik's presence.
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