d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k had completed his plans for the march.

Kulki was left behind, he was too weak and tired for the second trip.

And d.i.c.k could trust him to protect the cave-dwellers in his absence.

"Say d.i.c.k, 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 d.i.c.k, 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 cla.s.s!"

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 d.i.c.k. "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 sc.r.a.ps," teased Dan.

"Never mind that," replied d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k.

"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. d.i.c.k, Dan and Raal were riding ahead on their Arab horses and the rest of the tribesmen were mounted on the small wild horses that d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k and whispered: "Isn't it about time for lunch? I'm starved!"

d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k made out a caravan of camels striding in single file and accompanied by Arab hors.e.m.e.n. They were so far away that d.i.c.k could not see them without the gla.s.ses, although Raal's sharp eyes had distinguished them.

d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k'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 d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k, 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, d.i.c.k, 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 d.i.c.k'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."

d.i.c.k gave a sigh of relief. At least the mirage was not unknown to the tribesmen.