Ivitch was stunned, not only by the sight of the giant white man lying apparently dead before him, but also by the presence of Zora Drinov, whom all within the camp had given up as irretrievably lost. "I had no idea, Comrade Drinov," he explained, "that I was shooting at a man. I see now what caused my mistake. I saw something moving in a tree and thought that it was a leopard, but instead it was the leopard skin that he wears about his loins."
By this time Zveri had elbowed his way to the center of the group. "Zora!" he cried in astonishment as he saw the girl. "Where did you come from? What has happened? What is the meaning of this?"
"It means that this fool, Ivitch, has killed the man who saved my life," cried Zora.
"Who is he?" asked Zveri.
"I do not know," replied Zora. "He has never spoken to me. He does not seem to understand any language with which I am familiar."
"He is not dead," cried Ivitch. "See, he moved."
Romero knelt and examined the wound in Tarzan's head. "He is only stunned," he said. "The bullet struck him a glancing blow. There are no indications of a fracture of the skull. I have seen men hit thus before. He may be unconscious for a long time, or he may not, but I am sure that he will not die."
"Who the devil do you suppose he is?" asked Zveri.
Zora shook her head. "I have no idea," she said. "I only know that he is as splendid as he is mysterious."
"I know who he is," said a black, who had pushed forward to where he could see the figure of the prostrate man, "and if he is not already dead, you had better kill him, for he will be your worst enemy."