Tahara: Among African Tribes Part 25

At this annoyance, the elephant trumpeted more furiously than before, and from behind him other huge forms crowded to dispute the path of the warriors.

"It's a whole herd of 'em," cried Dan. "We'll be trampled to pulp."

But though his voice trembled Dan Carter did not become panic-stricken.

He looked to his friend d.i.c.k Oakwood for advice and saw that the Boy King was facing the danger manfully.

Raising the heavy gun to his shoulder, d.i.c.k was taking a steady aim at the animal's eye. It was a desperate chance. Only one shot with a clumsy old-fas.h.i.+oned gun and if that missed, all was over.

To Dan it seemed like an hour, as d.i.c.k held the bead on the infuriated monster, but it was only a second. Then d.i.c.k squeezed the trigger, there followed a sharp click--and that was all. The gun had missed fire.

"Good night!" gasped Dan. "This is our finish. Now they'll charge us, and we'll be trampled into the mud."

But just as the herd swayed forward in a clumsy attack, the even voice of the Mahatma sounded among the tribesmen.

"Stand fast! Fear nothing!"

Once more the wise Hindu sent his thoughts straight to their minds by his mysterious power and at the same time he used his occult skill upon the furious brutes. Some nameless fear struck the leader of the herd as the Mahatma exerted his mystic forces.

The rage of the bull elephant changed instantly to wild terror. Trunk aloft, he trumpeted shrilly, and wheeled about in flight.

The herd caught the panic.

At once the great animals crashed blindly through the jungles, flattening the saplings and tearing loose the clinging vines as they fled.

They were stampeding in the direction of the Muta-Kunga camp and beating a trail for the warriors faster than the hatchet-men could have cleared it.

d.i.c.k Oakwood c.o.c.ked his gun and pulled the trigger, aiming at the retreating herd. This time there was no miss-fire. The gun roared like a young cannon.

"Tahara hal!" went up a great shout from Raal, as he leaped forward.

His tribesmen followed, brandis.h.i.+ng their weapons and echoing the war cry: "_Tahara, hal!_"

To Raal and his men this was one more proof of the Boy King's superhuman power.

Mutaba and his Kungoras took up the chase, yelling fiercely and hurling insults at the fleeing elephants.

Now there was no further need of caution for the Muta-Kungas were warned of a coming battle. All that the invaders had to do was to race forward, and at their top speed it was not possible to catch up with the herd. Clumsy as they appeared, the elephants were capable of moving fast, and now urged by fear, they tore through the jungle like a freight train.

The trumpeting of the elephants, the terrified chatter of monkeys in the trees, and birds, startled by the confusion, raised a terrific din in the forest that was usually so quiet. Small game fled in terror before the onrush that shook the ground. Snakes slid swiftly out of the way of the charging herd. No creature large or small dared to stay in its path.

And this onslaught was most violent when it swept upon the camp of the Muta-Kungas. Warned by their scout who had been shot at by Mutaba, the tribesmen of Chief Mobogoma were prepared for battle. Armed with flat-pointed spears and bows and arrows, they were drawn up awaiting the word to meet their enemies and attack them from ambush. The Muta-Kungas were ferocious looking fellows with degraded faces and about their necks they wore huge ruffs of brightly colored feathers.

Abdul and his men were ready with their guns and scimiters, while Jess Slythe was guarding two of the prisoners, Professor Oakwood and Ray Carter, with the help of a couple of Arabs. Cimbula who had impressed the tribe by his craftiness, was guarding the Princess Veena in a hut reserved for prospective brides of Chief Mobogoma. The one-eyed witch-doctor was quite at home in the enemy camp and hoped to see the Taharans slain.

The Arab horses were in a large corral, for the forest was too dense to use them in fighting, and as for flight, n.o.body had even considered it, as the Muta-Kungas expected to kill off the invaders before they even reached the camp.

But the whirlwind attack threw them all into confusion. First came the small animals, running as though the forest were afire behind them, then crash, _crash_, CRASH, the old bull elephant charged right through the village, his herd at his heels.

Down went the fences of the small garden patches and down went every hut that stood in the way. Even the chief's big house was not spared and Mobogoma himself had to duck out of the way as a raging elephant brought down the thatched roof. His wives and children fled screaming into the wilderness, scattering before the thundering terror.

Brave as they were, the Muta-Kungas did not even try to fight off the charging elephants, but sought shelter behind big trees, and as for the Arabs, they made a wild dash for their horses, which had broken loose from the wrecked corral.

d.i.c.k shouted to his Taharans and Gorols, "Let 'em have it!" as his forces swept into the wrecked village.

"Let 'em have it!" echoed Dan Carter. "Give 'em the axe!" Both boys were keenly alive to the danger that the captives were exposed to, and while their followers took on the Muta-Kungas in hand to hand combat, the boys looked for Ray and d.i.c.k's father among the ruined huts.

Raal was no less eager in the search for Veena and he was the first to find what he sought. From a partly wrecked hut he spied the girl trying to crawl from under the thatched roof, while the witch-doctor stood over her threatening her with death if she tried to escape.

In one leap Raal was upon him, battle axe upraised and the wretched Cimbula vented a howl of terror as he saw the weapon flash through the air.

It was the last sound he uttered, for the next moment Raal's axe found its mark and the crafty plotter sank in a heap among the debris of the ruined hut.

Raal dragged out Veena and held her in his arms, looking about fiercely to protect her from other foes, while the girl clung to him in mingled terror and grat.i.tude.

Meanwhile d.i.c.k and Dan caught sight of Ray struggling with Abdul, who was mounted on his horse and was holding the girl before him on the saddle.

Ray struggled frantically and screamed for help. Jess Slythe who was tying Professor Oakwood upon a horse, aided by two husky Arabs, snarled at her to keep quiet.

"I've got a good mind to cut your throat and the professor's too," he raged. "If I didn't expect a good big ransom from your father, I'd do it in a minute."

It was at that moment that d.i.c.k saw the girl and rushed toward her, shouting, "Dan, Dan, there she is!"

The two boys flung themselves at Abdul, striking at him with their primitive weapons. Dan had only a flint knife which he tried to use dagger-fas.h.i.+on, but as he strained upward Abdul raised his scimiter to slash at his head.

But d.i.c.k Oakwood was quick to defend his friend. With the long Arab gun, clutched in both hands, he swung at Abdul, delivering a blow that half stunned the Bedouin. Abdul reeled in his saddle, releasing his hold on Ray and like a flash she slipped to the ground, her dark hair tumbled, her cheeks reddened with anger and her black eyes flas.h.i.+ng.

"Don't let him get away!" she cried. "I want to pay him back for what he made me suffer."

d.i.c.k held her in his arms to keep her from falling, but Dan, whose hands were free, hurled his flint knife at Abdul just as the Arab's horse galloped away.

The weapon caught the ruffian on the arm and a gush of blood reddened his burnous, but the next instant, clinging to his horse's neck, the fugitive plunged into the forest.

d.i.c.k saw to his horror that Jess Slythe had tied his father to a horse and was now in flight, mounted upon another animal.

Professor Oakwood, too proud to call for help, sent one despairing look backward, as Jess Slythe lashed the animal's flanks.

"After him!" shouted d.i.c.k Oakwood. "Get me a horse, somebody! We have _got_ to rescue my father!"

But the Arab horses were plunging about beyond hope of capture, and Jess Slythe and his prisoner were already lost in the shadows of the jungle.

CHAPTER XIII

JUNGLE DANCERS

The victory was complete.

By the time Mahatma Sikandar came on the scene, borne upon his litter, the Muta-Kungas were in full flight, pursued by the Kungoras, Gorols and Taharans.