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 Dick. "You owe him everything!"

Ray bowed and expressed her thanks shyly. The strange old Hindu did
not seem so wonderful to her, but if Dick 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
Dick.

"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 Dick 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 Dick 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!" ejaculated 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