"A warning, what do you mean, Raal?" asked d.i.c.k.

"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 d.i.c.k they followed grumbling.

d.i.c.k 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 gra.s.s beneath the palms and slept.

Long before daylight the tribesmen were up, making ready for the second day's march toward the jungle. d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k 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, d.i.c.k, but do you see those two greenish lights at the edge of the trees? Look!"

"They are probably stars," replied d.i.c.k sleepily. d.i.c.k 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, d.i.c.k, 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.

d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k 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. d.i.c.k 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.

d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k 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, d.i.c.k 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 a.s.surance 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. d.i.c.k 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!"

d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k 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, d.i.c.k 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, d.i.c.k!"

"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, d.i.c.k. But we are certainly in a tight jam this time."

"Keep quiet, Dan!" said d.i.c.k, really vexed at the boy.

The apparent lack of fear in d.i.c.k 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 d.i.c.k, 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 d.i.c.k that before the warriors dropped their bows and arrows and bowed low to d.i.c.k.

Then the voice again boomed out in broken English, "Advance white men!

I will protect you! Mahatma Sikandar speaks!"

CHAPTER VIII

BLACK WARRIORS

"Can you beat it!" exclaimed Dan Carter in astonishment, on hearing the English words spoken among a savage tribe in the jungle.

A chuckle was heard from the tangle of foliage above the heads of the two boys as they drew rein where the jungle path entered a clearing.

"Advance, d.i.c.k Sahib! Mahatma Sikandar speaks!"