Tarzan stretched his body upon the soft grasses. "We shall lie up here
for the night," he said.
Obroski shot a quick glance in the direction of the two lions lying a
few yards away, and Tarzan interpreted his thoughts.
"Don't worry about them," he said. "Jad-bal-ja will see that nothing
harms you, but look out for the lioness when he is not around. He
just picked her up the other day. She hasn't made friends with me yet,
and she probably never will. Now, if you care to, tell me what you are
doing in this country."
Briefly Obroski explained, and Tarzan listened until he had finished.
"If I had known you were one of that safari I probably would have let
the Bansutos kill you."
"Why? What have you got against us?"
"I saw your leader whipping his blacks," replied Tarzan.
Obroski was silent for a time. He had come to realize that this man
who called himself Tarzan of the Apes was a most remarkable man, and
that his power for good or evil in this savage country might easily
be considerable. He would be a good friend to have, and his enmity
might prove fatal. He could ruin their chances of making a successful
picture--he could ruin Orman.
Obroski did not like Orman. He had good reasons not to like him. Naomi
Madison was one of these reasons. But there were other things to
consider than a personal grudge. There was the money invested by the
studio, the careers of his fellow players, and even Orman--Orman was a
great director.
He explained all this to Tarzan--all except his hatred of Orman.
"Orman," he concluded, "was drunk when he whipped the blacks, he had
been down with fever, he was terribly worried. Those who knew him best
said it was most unlike him."
Tarzan made no comment, and Obroski said no more. He lay looking up
at the great full moon, thinking. He thought of Naomi and wondered.
What was there about her that he loved? She was petty, inconsiderate,
arrogant, spoiled. Her character could not compare with that of Rhonda
Terry, for instance; and Rhonda was fully as beautiful.
At last he decided that it was the glamour of the Madison's name and
fame that had attracted him--stripped of these, there was little about
her to inspire anything greater than an infatuation such as a man
might feel for any beautiful face and perfect body.
He thought of his companions of the safari, and wondered what they
would think if they could see him now lying down to sleep with a wild
man and two savage African lions. Smiling, he dozed and fell asleep.
He did not see the lioness rise and cross the clearing with Jad-bal-ja
pacing majestically behind her as they set forth upon the grim business
of the hunt.