y----"

"I know what you're going to say," Dick chuckled, "if only we had a
couple of bags of peanuts and a bottle of pop, it would be perfect."

Dan admitted, laughingly, that refreshments would be welcome, but Dick
grabbed his friend's arm.

"Look yonder, Dan."

"Where?"

"Up near the mouth of Cimbula's cave. What's going on there?"

"Men with torches. That's funny! It's the wrong direction for the
torches to appear."

"And there has been no signal yet."

"This is something that is not on the program. Jumping Jiminy! I hope
it's not going to spoil our party."

Things moved rapidly.

A procession with torches appeared from the wrong direction and at the
head of a crowd of grotesquely painted figures, leaped and cavorted an
unearthly apparition in feathered head-dress and fur tufts.

"Cimbula!" gasped Dick.

"What is that old fool up to?" Dan exclaimed.

"They are leading some prisoner among them," said Dick. "It looks like
a girl, but her face is covered with her hair."

"It's a Taharan girl. Cimbula must be trying to buy off the Arabs with
the gift of a slave."

"What a dog!"

"He is wrecking our whole plan of battle."

The boys looked on in suspense as the witch-doctor approached the Arab
camp, capering and shaking his rattling gourd. The others who followed
were imitating him, for Cimbula had decided that a magic dance of
demons would terrify the raiders, and therefore he had dressed up a
dozen of Wabiti's men in a garb like his own and painted their bodies
with stripes and daubs of white.

Whirling and leaping the demon dancers approached the Arab camp, while
one of the natives brandished a flint knife above the head of the bound
victim.

"If the Arabs take fright at this hocus-pocus, they are bigger fools
than I take them to be," growled Dick.

"More likely they are laughing at the medicine-man," Dan exclaimed.
"Look, they are rushing the procession."

With shouts of derision the Arabs leaped to their horses and raced
toward the intruders, No shots were fired. The Arabs did not want to
kill the demon dancers, but shrieked with laughter as they charged
them, bowled over Cimbula and scattered his followers.

"Look," said Dick. "It's not a fight. The Arabs are rounding up those
fellows. They came here for slaves, and now they have got some."

"Serves Cimbula right! I hope they keep him at hard labor for life!"

"I'm sorry for the others though.--Listen. There goes the fir