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Tahara: Among African Tribes Part 31

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Dan eagerly related all his experiences since he had parted from his father and soon Professor Oakwood and d.i.c.k came to shake hands and exchange congratulations.

Later Rex Carter was introduced to the Hindu seer, who received the wealthy business man with quiet dignity. Carter was impressed for though the Mahatma wore nothing but a saffron-colored loin cloth, he was as majestic as though he were clad in the robes of a king.

Dan explained how the wise man had come to Africa in search of an ancient crown, on which was the symbol of perfect wisdom.

At first Rex Carter was inclined to take it lightly, but when he learned that the diadem was probably the same one that d.i.c.k Oakwood had worn in the land of the Taharans, he could hardly restrain his impatience.

"I'll fly you there, today," he said. "By sundown we will all be in the realm of the Boy King."



"I accept your offer with thanks," said the Mahatma.

"And after that I'll take you to India. Any place you want to go!"

continued Carter. "You have done more for my children than I can ever pay for. Pack up your belongings and we will take off for Tahara now."

"My belongings are here," said the Mahatma, displaying the square of black cloth which contained his crystal.

"Is that all you own?" The millionaire was startled.

"That is all. More would be a weight to drag me from the higher plane where my spirit dwells."

"That's all right for a Hindu sage, but it would be all wrong for an American business man," Rex Carter answered, thinking of his vast factory, his town house and country estate, his yacht and automobiles.

With only a bow for reply, the Mahatma went a little way off, where he summoned his faithful Kungoras and took leave of them.

Mutaba threw himself on the ground and howled with grief and the others wailed in unison. They had lived in peace and happiness under this wise man's rule, and though they had sometimes been impatient to go on the warpath, they now realized that they were losing their best friend and adviser. They begged him to change his mind and stay with them but the Mahatma a.s.sured them that the time had come to say goodbye and urged them to follow the ways of peace and kindness as he had taught them.

Meanwhile d.i.c.k was instructing Raal, as leader of the tribesmen, to return to the Kungora village, recover their ponies and begin the long trek home across the desert. The plane could carry only a limited number.

"I'll be glad to take the Princess Veena in the plane," said Rex Carter. "And of course, Ray, Dan and d.i.c.k, besides the Mahatma."

But Veena would not consent to parting from Raal, whom she regarded as her chosen mate, and Raal was equally certain that he would never trust the girl to the demon bird.

With great difficulty Kurt and Kurul were induced to go along in the plane. Until the last minute the Stone-Age men hung back, fearful of a strong magic that might destroy them, yet curious to experience the sensation of flying through the air.

"Plane good!" said d.i.c.k giving Kurt a push toward the cabin door.

"Sure! Big bird good!" Dan laughed. "Come on, Ray, show them you're not afraid to go in. Then they will be ashamed to be scared."

Finally with a grunt of desperation Kurt took one leap that landed him inside the cabin. Kurul followed, helped by a shove from d.i.c.k and a minute later the motors roared, the big plane taxied with many b.u.mps over the clearing and finally took off.

"Tahara hal!" gasped Kurt.

"Tahara hal!" echoed Kurul feebly. And the two husky savages clung to each other like scared children as they saw the jungle far, far below.

That same evening the pilot of the cabin plane sighted the cliffs of Gorol Land and before sunset had made a safe landing near the Big Spring.

Queen Vanga and Chief Wabiti came out to receive the visitors but Kulki walked between them and showed that he was having difficulty in keeping the former rulers from flying at each others' throats.

Since the failure of their plot with Cimbula, each had blamed the other, and their friends.h.i.+p had turned sour.

Now they joined in greeting the Boy King with due reverence and ordered a feast that promised to tax even Dan Carter's powers. d.i.c.k a.s.sured them that Raal and the other warriors were on their way home and that the search for the Princess Veena had been successful.

The following days were busy ones for the Boy King. Accompanied by his father and friends, he set out on a tour of inspection to see that all was in order in the land he ruled. Proudly he pointed out to his father the industries he had started going.

"Just think," he said, "these people lived like Stone-Age tribes. They did not know how to build houses or weave cloth or make tools out of metal. It is going to be interesting to watch them advance in civilization."

"I can send out motor trucks with machinery," said Rex Carter, "and start you off right. And I'll send a few guards with repeating rifles to keep the natives from starting trouble. I'll even send you a machine gun or two."

"No thanks, Mr. Carter! I don't want _that_ brand of civilization. We have enough factory towns and machine guns elsewhere. I'd like to start something better here."

"In that case I advise you to blot out that big sign on the desert,"

said his father. "That word 'Gold' will attract some greedy adventurer, and before long your whole population will be wiped out."

"You're right, Dad! It's a word that spells trouble."

d.i.c.k gave orders to the Taharans and the Gorols to scatter the rocks that formed the letters and destroy every trace of the sign, and then led the party to the cave where Umba had painted the walls with pictures of animals.

"These are marvelous!" cried Professor Oakwood. "Just as fine as the paintings in the caves of Spain and France. I could spend a whole day here."

Leaving the rest of the party with Umba, the crippled painter, d.i.c.k Oakwood and Mahatma Sikandar proceeded to the cave of the Great Gorol, where he had left the ancient crown. The entrance to the cavern was guarded by tribesmen, stationed there for that purpose, and when d.i.c.k and the Mahatma approached, they bowed low and cried, "Tahar Tahara, hal! Welcome, O Master."

Taking a couple of pitch pine torches, d.i.c.k led the way through the pa.s.sages of the prehistoric mine, pointing out the seams of gold-bearing quartz.

But the Hindu paid no attention to the rich ore.

"Make haste, d.i.c.k Sahib," he said. "I would feast my eyes upon the ancient diadem and its magic inscriptions."

"Patience, O Mahatma! Patience!" laughed d.i.c.k. "One more turn and the pa.s.sage ends in the temple of the Ape-G.o.d."

Soon they reached the small, square room where, upon the block of stone, reposed the crown of the two tribes.

Mahatma Sikandar prostrated himself before it, murmuring a chant of thanksgiving, then held his torch close to the ma.s.sive circlet of soft gold and gems. His keen, dark eyes were gleaming with excitement as he studied every detail of the relic engraved with symbols.

d.i.c.k Oakwood picked it up and held it so that the inner surface could be seen and the Mahatma gave an exclamation of delight.

"These are the magic signs!" he cried. "Behold the wisdom of the ages engraved by seers many thousand years ago!"

"Do you understand it, Mahatma?"

"_I_ understand it? Not I! Only a glimpse of its profound wisdom has reached my soul."

"Then what good will it do you?"

"I have recorded every detail of the inscription _here_." The old man tapped his forehead. "The picture of that crown is in my brain like a photograph. Soon I shall go to Holy India and there in the remote caves and temples, I shall speak to the masters who are far wiser than I."

"And will those wise men tell you what it all means?"

"Little by little! Bit by bit!" replied the Mahatma. "Each of these holy men will be able to interpret a part of the meaning. I shall visit the cave hermits in the Himalayas and the devotees in the temples, who recline on beds of spikes. I shall even go to the fastness of Tibet, where the lamas spend their lives in the search for truth."

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