Tahara: Among African Tribes Part 26

The Arabs, too, had vanished, but a few of their horses were loose, running about the village and the surrounding forest.

d.i.c.k spied his Taharan friends, Kurt and Kurul, returning from the pursuit of the enemies and cried:

"Round up the stray horses! Get all you can! We'll start out to rescue Dad."

"Yes, Master," they replied obediently, and called upon their fellows to help in the capture of the terrified animals.

The Mahatma spoke to them in his placid voice:

"Patience, my children! I see that the battle has gone as I foretold.

Through my power over beasts, I caused the elephants to stampede. Now be quiet, and watch. You will see me bring the horses to you."

Fascinated, d.i.c.k and his followers watched the wise old Hindu raise both hands above his head with a convulsive gesture. His eyes closed.

At the same time his lips moved as he appeared to be saying something under his breath. But no sound came to the ears of the men beside him.

The message was not meant for them. It was directed at the runaway horses.

At a distance the beasts were racing madly, at first, then their pace slackened and a few of them began to graze quietly, while the others stared in the direction of the holy man.

Kurt and Kurul, ropes in hand, gave a grunt of admiration, "Mahatma Good!" and started to bring in the horses.

But d.i.c.k restrained them. "Leave it to the wise man," he said. "He does not need help."

Sure enough in a few minutes the horses began straying back to where the Mahatma was sitting, all their fear gone.

"Now you can capture them, d.i.c.k Sahib," said Sikandar. "Go to them quietly and take them by their bridles."

Dan cried enthusiastically, "You are certainly there with the goods, chief!" With one arm around his sister, he exclaimed, "There's the man you want to thank, Ray! Without his help we might never have rescued you!"

"That's right!" cried d.i.c.k. "You owe him everything!"

Ray bowed and expressed her thanks shyly. The strange old Hindu did not seem so wonderful to her, but if d.i.c.k and Dan said he was a miracle worker, there must be something to it.

And now Raal came forward, still holding Veena as though he could never let her go.

Prostrating himself before the Mahatma, Raal drew the girl down beside him and the pair addressed a chant of thanksgiving to him in their own language.

The old man beamed upon them and uttered a blessing, then turned to d.i.c.k.

"You are impatient, my son."

"Yes, holy man. It is about my father. Can you help me save him?"

"I know. I know what has happened," said the Hindu. "Today the spirits that control my crystal are active, and I have seen everything."

"And will you bring Dad back safely?"

"Tomorrow you shall clasp his hand. Have no fear."

But d.i.c.k was not so easily quieted.

"He is in the power of a murderous scoundrel, a man who tried to kill me."

"Fear not, my son."

"Let me take the horses and go out with a party tonight."

"That would spoil everything! You would be lost in the forests. See, already the shadows are heavy in the jungle and before you could overtake him, it would be dark as the souls of evil men. Also the jungle is full of fierce beasts. The leopards, the lions and the crocodiles would destroy you."

Reluctantly d.i.c.k decided to stay in the camp until daylight, and join in the feasting that celebrated the victory.

"It is well for you that I have taught the Kungoras to advance a little way in the path of good," said the Mahatma, "otherwise you would have witnessed a cannibal feast this night."

"Do you mean it?" cried Dan.

"I do mean it. When I came to the Kungoras, they were eaters of human flesh. They believed that eating the heart of an enemy gave them all his strength and courage."

"And they slaughtered their prisoners?"

"And feasted on them!"

"That's too many for me!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Dan Carter. "I can't deny that I'm fond of eats, but if it came to making a lunch off one of those Muta-Kungas, I'd rather go hungry."

The smell of cooking floated over the camp, mingled with the smoke of wood fires. Plenty of food had been found in the mud huts thatched with straw, for the surprise attack had caused the natives to flee without taking anything.

The feast was served in the clearing before the ruins of Chief Mobogoma's house. There a big fire was kept burning and by its light the warriors gorged themselves with roasted game, corn and other products of the garden patches and then finished off with quant.i.ties of bananas and other fruit.

Ray and d.i.c.k ate sparingly as was their habit, and the Mahatma contented himself with a little food and that of the plainest, but Dan Carter joined the warriors in disposing of huge quant.i.ties of roasted and broiled meat.

The savages showed their delight in his prowess.

"Dan good!" said Kural.

"Dan big chief!" replied Kurt, his mouth full, and reached into a stew pot with a forked stick.

As the boy smiled at them, waving a bone that he was gnawing, d.i.c.k sang out:

"Take care, Dan! I was tipped off that the Kungoras smuggled in part of a Muta-Kunga brave among the stew meat."

Dan pulled back hastily and stared at the big pot in which vegetables and chunks of meat were mingled.

"You take?" asked Kurul.

"Stew good!" suggested Kurt with a broad smile.

"No thanks," gasped Dan Carter, turning a little pale. "I don't--think I care--for any more."

He got up hastily and left the circle of heavy eaters.