When Tarzan saw the still form in Taug’s arms, a low growl broke from his lips, for he too loved Teeka’s little balu.
“Who did it?” he asked. “Where is Teeka?”
“I do not know,” replied Taug. “I found him lying here with Dango about to feed upon him; but it was not Dango that did it—there are no fang marks upon him.”
Tarzan came closer and placed an ear against Gazan’s breast. “He is not dead,” he said. “Maybe he will not die.” He pressed through the crowd of apes and circled once about them, examining the ground step by step. Suddenly he stopped and placing his nose close to the earth sniffed. Then he sprang to his feet, giving a peculiar cry. Taug and the others pressed forward, for the sound told them that the hunter had found the spoor of his quarry.
“A stranger bull has been here,” said Tarzan. “It was he that hurt Gazan. He has carried off Teeka.”
Taug and the other bulls commenced to roar and threaten; but they did nothing. Had the stranger bull been within sight they would have torn him to pieces; but it did not occur to them to follow him.
“If the three bulls had been watching around the tribe this would not have happened,” said Tarzan. “Such things will happen as long as you do not keep the three bulls watching for an enemy. The jungle is full of enemies, and yet you let your shes and your balus feed where they will, alone and unprotected. Tarzan goes now—he goes to find Teeka and bring her back to the tribe.”
The idea appealed to the other bulls. “We will all go,” they cried.
“No,” said Tarzan, “you will not all go. We cannot take shes and balus when we go out to hunt and fight. You must remain to guard them or you will lose them all.”
They scratched their heads. The wisdom of his advice was dawning upon them, but at first they had been carried away by the new idea—the idea of following up an enemy offender to wrest his prize from him and punish him. The community instinct was ingrained in their characters through ages of custom. They did not know why they had not thought to pursue and punish the offender—they could not know that it was because they had as yet not reached a mental plane which would permit them to work as individuals. In times of stress, the community instinct sent them huddling into a compact herd where the great bulls, by the weight of their combined strength and ferocity, could best protect them from an enemy. The idea of separating to do battle with a foe had not yet occurred to them—it was too foreign to custom, too inimical to community interests; but to Tarzan it was the first and most natural thought. His senses told him that there was but a single bull connected with the attack upon Teeka and Gazan. A single enemy did not require the entire tribe for his punishment. Two swift bulls could quickly overhaul him and rescue Teeka.