Nearer and nearer she came to where Tarzan of the Apes

crouched upon his limb, the coils of his long rope poised

ready in his hand.

Like a thing of bronze, motionless as death, sat Tarzan.

Sabor passed beneath. One stride beyond she took--a second,

a third, and then the silent coil shot out above her.

For an instant the spreading noose hung above her head

like a great snake, and then, as she looked upward to detect

the origin of the swishing sound of the rope, it settled about

her neck. With a quick jerk Tarzan snapped the noose tight

about the glossy throat, and then he dropped the rope and

clung to his support with both hands.

Sabor was trapped.

With a bound the startled beast turned into the jungle, but

Tarzan was not to lose another rope through the same cause

as the first. He had learned from experience. The lioness had

taken but half her second bound when she felt the rope

tighten about her neck; her body turned completely over in

the air and she fell with a heavy crash upon her back. Tarzan

had fastened the end of the rope securely to the trunk of the

great tree on which he sat.

Thus far his plan had worked to perfection, but when he

grasped the rope, bracing himself behind a crotch of two

mighty branches, he found that dragging the mighty, struggling,

clawing, biting, screaming mass of iron-muscled fury up to

the tree and hanging her was a very different proposition.

The weight of old Sabor was immense, and when she braced

her huge paws nothing less than Tantor, the elephant,

himself, could have budged her.

The lioness was now back in the path where she could see

the author of the indignity which had been placed upon her.

Screaming with rage she suddenly charged, leaping high into

the air toward Tarzan, but when her huge body struck the

limb on which Tarzan had been, Tarzan was no longer there.

Instead he perched lightly upon a smaller branch twenty

feet above the raging captive. For a moment Sabor hung half