Silently she stepped without. To her immense relief she saw that the camp was apparently asleep. In the dim and flickering light of the dying fires she saw but a single sentry, and he was dozing upon his haunches at the opposite side of the enclosure.
Keeping the tent between him and herself, she crossed between the small shelters of the native porters to the boma wall beyond.
Outside, in the darkness of the tangled jungle, she could hear the roaring of lions, the laughing of hyenas, and the countless, nameless noises of the midnight jungle.
For a moment she hesitated, trembling. The thought of the prowling beasts out there in the darkness was appalling. Then, with a sudden brave toss of her head, she attacked the thorny boma wall with her delicate hands. Torn and bleeding though they were, she worked on breathlessly until she had made an opening through which she could worm her body, and at last she stood outside the enclosure.
Behind her lay a fate worse than death, at the hands of human beings.
Before her lay an almost certain fate—but it was only death—sudden, merciful, and honourable death.
Without a tremor and without regret she darted away from the camp, and a moment later the mysterious jungle had closed about her.
CHAPTER XIV.
Alone in the Jungle
Tambudza, leading Tarzan of the Apes toward the camp of the Russian, moved very slowly along the winding jungle path, for she was old and her legs stiff with rheumatism.
So it was that the runners dispatched by M’ganwazam to warn Rokoff that the white giant was in his village and that he would be slain that night reached the Russian’s camp before Tarzan and his ancient guide had covered half the distance.