THE WAR TRAIL
"Throw your rope over that wicked little beast!" exclaimed Dick Oakwood.
"Okay, Dick," answered Dan. His quivering lariat sailed through the
air and the loop settled neatly about the neck of one of the small wild
horses in the enclosure, bringing it to the ground.
Quick as a flash, Dick was on its back, much to the delight of the
savage tribe who had never witnessed such feats of bravery.
"Tahara, hal!" they cried.
For days there had been great excitement in the land of the Taharans.
After the raid of the Arabs and the possibility that the tribe might
have to make a return attack to recover the princess, Veena, Dick and
his chum, Dan Carter, had been breaking the wild horses and teaching
the natives to handle them.
They were apt pupils and one after another were mastering the art of
horseback riding.
Now as Dick after a fierce struggle brought the horse down to a gentle
gallop, he dismounted and handed the reins to Raal. At that moment
Kurt interrupted with a cry. He ran to Dick with terror in his face.
"O Master, look through your magic glasses and see who is coming. Is
it a new danger that threatens us?" Then aside he murmured, "Tahara is
great. He will protect us!"
Dick beckoned to Kurul to whom he had trusted his binoculars, and the
warrior passed over the glasses as if he were glad to get rid of them.
The savages were still not certain that these strange eyes were
innocent of the spell of black magic.
Dick put them to his eyes and saw a strange figure approaching from the
desert. It staggered and fell to the ground, then rose wearily and
struggled on.
"It seems to be an old man, bent double with age," said Dick. "He is
very weary. Run Kurt, and help him! And you, Kurul, lend a hand. It
is good to help the old and feeble."
But suddenly Dan who had taken the glasses, gave a cry. His face grew
pale. Turning to Dick he said in a low voice.
"Kulki! It is Kulki!"
"Kulki!" repeated Dick. "It can't be. What has happened?"
The two boys hastened after Kurt and Kurul and had no difficulty in
overtaking them, for the savages were afraid and went warily, invoking
Tahara to protect them at every step.
Dick was the first to reach the Gorol warrior, who limped and staggered
and when he realized that his friends had come to help him he sank to
the sand at Dick's feet.
"Master forgive! I could not!" he moaned.
Dick raised the Gorol to his feet but he was trembling so violently
that he had to be half carried back to the village where, a word at a
time between his pleas for forgiveness, Dick got his story.
Kulki and his two Taharan companions had found the Arab camp. Suli was
there and Abdul. And the wicked Cimbula!
"But Veena! Where is Veena?" demanded Raal, his heavy face white with
anxiety, His large hands were clenched as he stood menacingly above the
Gorol. "Where is Veena and where are the two warriors who went with
you?"
"The warriors are dead," replied Kulki.
"But where is Veena?" asked Dick. His voice was stern as he tried to
hide the emotion he felt.
"Forgive O Master, I could not bring her back. The Arabs have
imprisoned her. They tortured me through long hours, hitting me with
heavy thongs and burned me with hot embers, then they sent me home to
tell you. I have travelled all day and all night to bring help." The
Gorol youth looked at Raal imploringly, then continued, "Veena, the
little white princess will not be killed and we have still time to save
her if we go at once. That is what Cimbula said to me and he
understands the language and the ways of the Arabs."
"What do you mean, Kulki?" demanded Dick anxiously.
"Suli and Abdul protect her, for they are anxious to sell her for a big
price."
Cries arose from the listeners, for most of the tribe had gathered to
hear what Kulki had to tell. The women shrieked and moaned, rocking
themselves back and forth, and tearing their hair.
Dick raised his hand for silence.
"Be quiet my friends," he said calmly. "Kulki says we still have time
to save her." Then he turned to the Gorol, "Are you sure? Tell us all
you know!"
"Cimbula tell me all they said," went on Kulki. "Suli and Abdul are
waiting for the arrival of Chief Mobogoma who wants the white princess
for his bride. He is willing to give in exchange a hundred of his best
slaves."
"Ah-woe! Ah-woe!" moaned the tribesmen.
"Suli and Abdul agreed to this, but the man-demon who flies on the back
of the bird-demon appeared and said that was not enough. He demanded
much ivory as well."
"Slythe! That was Jess Slythe!" exclaimed Dick Oakwood with
indignation. "I might have known that he was somewhere around and had
a hand in my affairs."
"There will be delay while they quarrel with words," continued Kulki
with a groan.
A slave appeared with food and drink for the returned warrior. He
gulped it hungrily. Dick questioned him further about the Arabs.
A shiver passed over the body of the Gorol, his eyes looked wild.
"They tortured me and sent me back to say that Veena would be returned
for two hundred Taharan slaves."
"Tahara have mercy! O Master, save us!" moaned the tribesmen. "What
are we to do?"
"Send us, O Master," came the cry from many throats. "Let us be
sacrificed, but bring back the little princess Veena."
Dick looked at Dan in astonishment. He had not expected to find such a
spirit of chivalry among this savage tribe.
"Say, they're pretty good sports, I'll tell the world!" cried Dan.
"Who would have believed it? And we want to civilize them! That's a
joke!"
Raal was standing impatiently frowning, waiting for Dick to give some
word of command.
"What are we going to do, Master?" he asked.
Dick once more raised his hand. "What will we do? Get ready to march!
At once! Food and drink must be carried! To work! We will go to that
Arab camp, but not as slaves. We will go as warriors to bring back
Princess Veena!"
"Tahara, hal! Tahara, hal!"
The cheer echoed through the hills. In a moment the village changed
from a quiet, sleepy camp to one bustling with life and excitement.
The women scuttled away toward the caves where the slaves were busy
with the cooking. They were chattering like magpies among themselves
but they were losing no time in carrying out the orders. Vanga's
shrill voice carried above the noise.
"Move faster, slaves!" she shrieked. "Out of my way!" And with a
resounding slap she boxed the ears of a small child who crossed her
path. Food and water was ready to be packed on the back of the horses,
when Dick had completed his plans for the march.
Kulki was left behind, he was too weak and tired for the second trip.
And Dick could trust him to protect the cave-dwellers in his absence.
"Say Dick, I'm sure glad we got a few good horses out of that Arab
raid. At least you and I and Raal will be looked after. What will the
others do? Walk?"
"Of course not! What did I have you break in those small wild horses
for if it wasn't for just such an occasion? Saddle your horses, men,
and get ready!"
The warriors whooped with delight as they ran toward the enclosure
where the horses were held. They were pleased at the chance to use
their new saddles.
"Say Dick, what would a western cowboy say about these saddles? They
make their silver trimmed affairs seem very plain. Look at Raal's
saddle, it is covered with golden disks. Some class!"
The warriors shouted and screamed with laughter as they caught the wild
horses and bridled them. It was a new game. They liked it.
"Those boys seem to think this is a big picnic they are going on,"
remarked Dan Carter. "Why don't you tell them it's a serious business?"
"What's the use?" replied Dick. "Let them get what fun they can out of
the start. Besides I hope we can settle this without a fight."
"For a king who was going to have nothing but peace in his country, you
have certainly managed to put up some pretty stiff scraps," teased Dan.
"Never mind that," replied Dick with a laugh. "I'll get around to that
some day. Just now we've got to undo a great wrong."
"Oh, yes! You've got to fight for peace. I see! All right then, come
along, I'm with you. But are you sure we'll be able to carry enough
food?"
"You can take as much as you can carry on the back of your saddle.
Besides it wouldn't hurt you to go hungry for a while," said Dick.
"Oh, is that so!" snapped Dan impatiently. The good-natured Dan was
rarely cross and then only for a second. His fact cleared suddenly and
he said, "Tough luck! I suppose I'll have to stand it. Come on!"
It was a strange looking army that rode out of the land of the
Taharans. Dick, Dan and Raal were riding ahead on their Arab horses
and the rest of the tribesmen were mounted on the small wild horses
that Dick and Dan had trained to the saddle. Although these animals
were small they were almost as fleet as the large horses and could
stand the heat of the desert much better.
The Boy King looked back with pride as he saw his warriors riding so
well.
"There is no limit to what I may be able to do with these savages. All
they need is a good leader," thought Dick as he glanced at Raal whose
heavy figure sitting straight and proud, gave an impression of great
strength.
For an hour they rode almost in silence, the horses eager and prancing.
Then as the ferocious heat of the sun burned into them, the horses
slackened their pace. Finally Dan drew close to Dick and whispered:
"Isn't it about time for lunch? I'm starved!"
Dick motioned him away impatiently. "Nothing doing, boy! Take a small
drink of water and pretend it's food. Our first halt is two hours from
here unless we're lucky enough to find an oasis."
"But why take life so seriously?" responded Dan. "These savages spend
a long time in bartering; we'll get there before they're through.
Besides Slythe will wait to see if you will send the two hundred slaves
to buy the princess."
"I'm not sure, Dan. We'd better push along as fast as we can. If
Mobogoma offers enough, Slythe won't take any chances on a slip-up."
Before another hour had gone by, the riders were wilted with the heat
and famished for food and drink. A green spot in the distance made
them urge their horses on toward the grove of palm trees.
"Come on, let's hurry," cried Dan. "We can't get to that spring quick
enough to suit me." The boy dug his heels into the horse's sides. The
spirits of the men rose at the prospect of a spring of clear water and
the shade of the palm trees beckoned them. Dan broke into a college
song and the tribesmen took up the air and shouted it at the top of
their lungs.
Suddenly Raal spoke in a voice trembling with excitement. "Look O
Master, across the desert! Those are the Arab raiders!"
"Where?"
Raal pointed to the horizon, still wavering with heat, and Dick
adjusted his binoculars.
At first he saw only a long straggling line of moving objects that
resembled a giant centipede with countless legs and undulating back.
Finally Dick made out a caravan of camels striding in single file and
accompanied by Arab horsemen. They were so far away that Dick could
not see them without the glasses, although Raal's sharp eyes had
distinguished them.
Dick gasped. "Arabs! You're right, Raal. Maybe they are the ones we
are after. Give orders for the warriors to have their weapons ready
and be on the alert. Then let's go!"
To encourage the men, Dan once more burst into song. The tired horses
caught the spirit and leaped ahead for a few minutes then began to lag.
The heat was intense, the sand, catching the sun's rays dazzled the
eyes and made them burn.
But no matter how fast they rode, the oasis seemed as far away as ever.
The caravan was lost in the shimmering haze.
"Who would have believed that it was so far away?" grumbled Dan Carter.
At that moment he caught sight of Dick's face. It was pale and
troubled.
"What's the matter, old sport?" Dan asked anxiously. "Are you sick or
something? Better take a sip of that precious water in the bag."
"No, I'm all right," answered Dick quietly, "but I'm wondering how I'm
going to explain a mirage to these savages."
"A mirage!" exclaimed Dan with a catch in his voice. "So that's why we
seemed to be getting farther away from that green spot all the time.
But Dick, are you certain? I'd have sworn it was the real thing."
But even as they talked, Dan noticed the thinning haze ahead. It
seemed to be rising and soon disappeared into the sky.
"Say, Dick, when did you catch on?" asked Dan.
"About five minutes ago. How am I going to explain it to them? They
may never have seen one and may think that it is black magic. See, the
caravan has vanished, too."
"Tell them it's Cimbula out there," said Dan with a laugh. "They'll
believe that, all right."
While the boys were talking, the haze dissolved completely, leaving a
far stretch of sandy waste.
"Ah-woe Tahara!" moaned Raal touching Dick's arm. "Look ahead. The
spirit of evil has swallowed up the oasis. It is a warning, O Master.
I have seen it many times before."
Dick gave a sigh of relief. At least the mirage was not unknown to the
tribesmen.
"A warning, what do you mean, Raal?" asked Dick.
"Thus comes the oasis on the desert at times, leading men to
destruction. Warriors depart to take possession of the new land and
find themselves without food and drink. They ride around in circles in
order to find the green oasis. Then at last the demons gobble them up.
Did you not see the caravan disappear? It is a bad omen, so say my
people."
Some of the tribesmen shielded their faces against the evil eye while
others muttered anxiously. A few turned as if to flee back to their
own land but at a sharp command from Dick they followed grumbling.
Dick halted his riders and they ate a hasty lunch while shielding
themselves in the shadow of their horses.
Late that afternoon they came to the oasis in the desert. The men
threw themselves flat on their stomachs by the spring, dipping up the
water in their hands and drinking with loud sucking noises. It was
hard for both man and beast to restrain the desire to overdo, for their
parched throats seemed never to get enough.
As soon as the quickly prepared meal was over, the men stretched out on
the green grass beneath the palms and slept.
Long before daylight the tribesmen were up, making ready for the second
day's march toward the jungle. Dick and Dan were weary and sore from
the journey but there were no complaints from either of them. They
swung into their saddles and taking the lead, raced their horses over
the desert, making the most of the cool morning, knowing that as soon
as the sun rose the heat would be almost unbearable.
It was late on the third day when they reached the lowlands which lay
at the beginning of the jungle. Already the atmosphere had changed.
It was oppressive and humid. Directly in front of them was a path
leading to the wilderness of trees and overgrowing trailing plants.
The stars were just appearing in the sky and Dick ordered his men to
make camp, feeling safer to sleep in the open. He put Kurt and Kurul,
his most trustworthy warriors, to stand guard. But Dick could not
sleep. The sound of jungle life came to him, the sharp cries of night
birds, the yelping of wild animals. The Boy King felt the menace of
the jungle.
But after hours of listening the sounds seemed to grow fainter as if
the wild life were going far, far away. His eyes closed. But just as
he might have dropped off to sleep, he was awakened by Dan's hand on
his face.
"I don't want to frighten you, Dick, but do you see those two greenish
lights at the edge of the trees? Look!"
"They are probably stars," replied Dick sleepily. Dick rubbed his
tired eyes and sat up. Dan pointed out the glowing sparks. The boys
did not move, for they saw that Kurt and Kurul were aware of the
intruder. They stood motionless near a jungle tree.
"It's a leopard, Dick, I'm sure of it," said Dan. "Where's your Arab
gun?"
"It's here," replied his chum. "But wait! Kurt and Kurul are on
guard. They have a plan. I will not interfere with them."
Slowly the lights grew larger. Two more appeared, and soon two others,
and one could see the dim shapes of animals crouching low and wriggling
from the tangle of vines and creepers, scarcely making a sound.
Kurt and Kurul stood tense and alert, their bows were drawn back ready
at any second to send the flint pointed arrows into the vital spot of
their enemy.
Dick watched and thought he understood why his bowmen waked so long.
The leopards were making their way toward the wild horses and not
toward the sleeping men. The warriors were waiting to get them out in
the open where they could see better to shoot. In the light of the
stars Dick could see the beasts crawling along the ground. Suddenly
the two first gave a spring, but before they could reach their prey,
Kurt and Kurul had shot their arrows, catching the beasts between the
eyes. Their bodies jumped high in the air, then dropped. The other
animals turned and disappeared.
"Oh boy, what a shot!" exclaimed Dan, jumping to his feet and running
toward the dead animals, but Kurul held him back.
"Beware, brother," said Kurul, "the leopard has a way of coming alive
after he is dead! I've seen it!"
For Dick there was no more sleep that night. It was time to relieve
Kurt and Kurul and he did not feel sure that the other men were to be
trusted to watch. Dick knew that Rex Carter was depending on him to
look after Dan and protect him from danger, and besides that the
responsibility of his army weighed on the shoulders of the Boy King of
the desert.
Dick sat up and watched toward the jungle. From time to time dark
shapes slipped by as if eager to get far away from danger. The sharp
call of night birds awakened monkeys that kept up a maddening chatter.
The night seemed full of dangers that threatened him. But Dick Oakwood
was not displeased.
"Who would have believed it!" he said to himself. "When I left America
I had no idea that my experiences would be stranger even than those of
Matt Binney, our old African trader. When I get back I'll tell him
some thrillers that will make his hair stand on end, the way he used to
make mine when I was a kid."
As usual on the march, dawn had not tinted the horizon before the
warriors were up and busy preparing breakfast and as the first streaks
of rose and purple made fantastic designs in the sky, Dick and Dan led
the way into the jungle, following the trail that Kulki had told them
would lead to the Arab camp.
In a few minutes steam rose from the horses' sides while perspiration
flowed down the faces of the riders. Dan wiped his face with the back
of his hand leaving a dusty streak across his cheek. He turned to look
at his chum to see how he was standing the strain.
The Boy King looked tired. After a wakeful night, the heat irritated
him. And the thought that Cimbula and Slythe had their heads together
in a plan to overthrow his rule, did not make him look forward with any
assurance of success in the venture to rescue Veena.
Right now his brain was dulled by lack of sleep. The raid with his
warriors seemed hopeless and a foolish undertaking. Dick slumped in
his saddle for a moment and looked the picture of woe and
discouragement.
"How's this for a steam bath!" exclaimed Dan. "Good for your health.
Doctor's orders. Oh boy, what a treat!"
Dick smiled at his chum, whose happy-go-lucky nature always brought fun
and a laugh into every situation, no matter how tight a jam it might be.
At last Dick sat erect with a jerk. Every moment he was coming nearer
to the dreaded spot where his enemies were in wait for his arrival.
This was not the time to weaken. Brushing his hand across his damp
forehead, the boy took the lead bravely, his head held high. He knew
that the odds were all against him, as they had been before, but in his
heart he felt sure that he would win.
It was late that afternoon when Dick suddenly drew rein and gave a
signal to halt. Some danger menaced them; he felt it without knowing
what it was. The jungle trail was just the same as when they entered
it that morning. Then why this nameless fear?
He listened intently, but there was only the scolding of monkeys and
the answering screech of birds. No human sound was distinguishable.
Giving the order to proceed cautiously, every man ready with bow and
arrow, Dick emerged without warning into a clearing. Suddenly his
horse reared back with a frightened snort.
Blocking the path ahead of him was a score or more of black warriors,
their faces painted in streaks of red and yellow, making them grotesque
and frightful. Their bows were drawn and their fiendish grins sent
terror to the hearts of the boys. With hideous yells, a band of the
savages behind the bowmen started a war-dance.
"I see our finish!" exclaimed Dan. "Give them a taste of your gun,
Dick!"
"That wouldn't help. Look at the black horde coming from every
direction. They are two against one! We'll try to show them that we
are friendly."
"I guess you're right, Dick. But we are certainly in a tight jam this
time."
"Keep quiet, Dan!" said Dick, really vexed at the boy.
The apparent lack of fear in Dick evidently gained the respect of the
tribe. Their arrows did not fly, the warriors held them, waiting for a
command.
Then a command came, loud and clear. It was a surprise to Dick, for it
came from a point directly above his head and the voice was not that of
an African savage. The hidden chief spoke in the language of the
tribe. It was an order; the inflection of the voice told Dick that
before the warriors dropped their bows and arrows and bowed low to Dick.
Then the voice again boomed out in broken English, "Advance white men!
I will protect you! Mahatma Sikandar speaks!"