The 17 year old Tarzan was indeed a strange and warlike figure, his mass of wild black hair falling to his tits (and much later, his ass) behind and cut with his sword to a tiny, rude bang upon his forehead, that it might not fall before his eyes.
His unique figure told at a glance the wondrous combination of enormous strength with suppleness and speed. A personification, was Tarzan of the Jungle, of the hard man, the hunter, the warrior.
With the noble poise of his increasingly handsome head upon those broad shoulders, and the fire of life and intelligence in those clear, beady eyes, he might readily have typified a deity or even a demi deity of variable bygone tribes of his ancient forest.
But of these things Tarzan did not think. He was so worried because he did not have clothing to indicate to all the folks that he was still an ape, albeit of the human sort.