of the primitive man, the hunter, the warrior.

With the noble poise of his handsome head
upon those broad shoulders, and the fire of life
and intelligence in those fine, clear eyes, he might
readily have typified some demi-god of a wild
and warlike bygone people of his ancient forest.

But of these things Tarzan did not think. He
was worried because he had not clothing to indi-
cate to all the jungle folks that he was a man
and not an ape, and grave doubt often entered
his mind as to whether he might not yet become
an ape.

Was not hair commencing to grow upon his
face? All the apes had hair upon theirs, but the
black men were entirely hairless, with very few
exceptions.

True, he had seen pictures in his books of men
with great masses of hair upon lip and cheek and
chin, but, nevertheless, Tarzan was afraid.
Almost daily he whetted his keen knife and
scraped and whittled at his young beard to eradi-
cate this degrading emblem of apehood.

And so he learned to shave--rudely and pain-
fully, it is true--but, nevertheless, effectively.

When he felt quite strong again, after his
bloody battle with Terkoz, Tarzan set off one
morning towards Mbonga's village. He was
moving carelessly along a winding jungle trail,
instead of making his progress through the trees,
when suddenly he came face to face with a black
warrior.

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