The Jungle Toll

           EarlythefollowingmorningTarzanawoke,andhisfirstthoughtofthenewday,asthelastofyesterday,wasofthewonderfulwritingwhichlayhiddeninhisquiver.

           Hurriedlyhebroughtitforth,hopingagainsthopethathecouldreadwhatthebeautifulwhitegirlhadwrittentheretheprecedingevening.

           Atthefirstglancehesufferedabitterdisappointment;neverbeforehadhesoyearnedforanythingasnowhedidfortheabilitytointerpretamessagefromthatgolden-haireddivinitywhohadcomesosuddenlyandsounexpectedlyintohislife.

           Whatdiditmatterifthemessagewerenotintendedforhim?Itwasanexpressionofherthoughts,andthatwassufficientforTarzanoftheApes.

           Andnowtobebaffledbystrange,uncouthcharactersthelikeofwhichhehadneverseenbefore!Why,theyeventippedintheoppositedirectionfromallthathehadeverexaminedeitherinprintedbooksorthedifficultscriptofthefewlettershehadfound.

           Eventhelittlebugsoftheblackbookwerefamiliarfriends,thoughtheirarrangementmeantnothingtohim;butthesebugswerenewandunheardof.

           Fortwentyminutesheporedoverthem,whensuddenlytheycommencedtotakefamiliarthoughdistortedshapes.Ah,theywerehisoldfriends,butbadlycrippled.

           Thenhebegantomakeoutawordhereandawordthere.Hisheartleapedforjoy.Hecouldreadit,andhewould.