Tantor

But who or what of all the myriad jungle life would there be to welcome his return? Not one.

Only Tantor, the elephant, could he call friend.

The others would hunt him or flee from him as had been their way in the past.

Not even the apes of his own tribe would extend the hand of fellowship to him.

He would give them to me if anyone could, for he does not fight fair.

One never knows through what new agency he is going to strike.

It is as though Numa, the lion, had induced Tantor, the elephant, and Histah, the snake, to join him in attempting to kill me.

I would then never have known what minute or by whom I was to be attacked next.

Yeah, dude.

Tantor.

Oh my gosh.

Yeah, it's a lot of fun, dude.

Chapter 1.

Tantor the Elephant.

His great bulk swaying to and fro as he threw his weight first upon one side and then upon the other, Tantor the elephant loiled in the shade of the father of forests.

Almost omnipotent, he and the realm of his people, Dango, Sheeta, even Numa the mighty, were as naught to the pachyderm.

For a hundred years he had come and gone up and down the land that had trembled to the comings and the goings of his forefathers for countless ages.

Man who holds the unique distinction among created things of making war on all living creatures, even to his own kind.

Man the ruthless, man the pitiless, man the most hated living organism that nature has evolved.

Always during the long hundred years of his life, Tantor had known man.

They had entered his jungle but a short time before, the first of their kind to encroach upon the age-old supremacy of the beasts which laired there.

To Numa the lion, to Tantor the elephant, to the great apes and the lesser apes, to each and all of the myriad creatures of this savage wild, the ways of man were new.

They had much to learn of these black, hairless creatures that walked erect upon their hind paws, and they were learning it slowly, and always to their sorrow.

Shortly after the blacks had departed, Tarzan swung easily to the trail.

Great ears were thrown forward, and a long, supple trunk rose quickly to wave to and fro in search of the scent of an enemy, while two weak little eyes peered suspiciously and futilely about in quest of the author of the noise which had disturbed his peaceful way.

Tarzan laughed aloud and came closer above the head of the pachyderm.

Tantor, Tantor, he cried.

Bara the deer is less fearful than you.

Being carried on my back doesn't make you a belu.

I often travel on the back of Tantor, the elephant.

That doesn't make Tarzan a belu.

Well, that is different.

Chapter 1.

Tantor the Elephant.

His great bulk swaying to and fro as he threw his weight first upon one side and then upon the other, Tantor the elephant loiled in the shade of the father of forests.

Almost omnipotent, he and the realm of his people, Dango, Sheeta, even Numa the mighty, were as naught to the pachyderm.

For a hundred years he had come and gone up and down the land that had trembled to the comings and the goings of his forefathers for countless ages.

Man who holds the unique distinction among created things of making war on all living creatures, even to his own kind.

Man the ruthless, man the pitiless, man the most hated living organism that nature has evolved.

Always during the long hundred years of his life, Tantor had known man.