Dan! The sun's up. We're all ready but you!"

Dick's first interest was to explore his new kingdom, and he set out early on this expedition with his two chief lieutenants, Raal, who was the best fighter among the Taharans, carried a treasure, wrapped in a zebra skin. Kulki, the young leader of the Gorol tribe, which lived in the mountains in huts built in the trees, carried Dick's long flint knife as an emblem of royal power.

Kulki was the son of Wabiti, an old chief who could not lead his tribe in battle, but was still respected for his wisdom.

These two warriors led the way, and for his bodyguard, the Boy King took two Taharan tribesmen armed with bows and arrows and flint knives. Kurt and Kurul were devoted to him, and had proved their courage in more than one stiff fight.

Dan Carter, his chum, went with the expedition as right hand man and counselor, though as a matter of fact, Dan was so easy-going and light-hearted that he was more useful for his company than for his advice. As a sign of high rank he was allowed to carry the binoculars.

The party set out from the fertile hills that rose from the Sahara and climbed by winding trails up the cliffs to Gorol Land.

Here the country was rugged and covered with a growth of trees and where the forest was thick and hard to penetrate lurked many wild animals. Leopards, panthers and other fierce creatures were in those shadowy recesses, together with poisonous snakes and other reptiles. Great apes and chattering little monkeys clambered boldly among the trees while gaily colored tropical birds screeched and scolded the intruders.

"Jiminy crickets!" cried Dan excitedly. "This beats any zoo I've seen yet! Animals in cages don't seem as interesting as the ones that go climbing about in the forest."

"You're right at that," Dick answered. "And as for the Gorols, they are more like the side-show 'wild man of Borneo' than anything I've ever heard of."

"Listen. That sounds like war drums along the trail."

Dan put his hand on his bow, but Dick held him back.

"Don't be foolish!" he said. "Those are drums of welcome."

He spoke a few words to Kulki in the Gorol language, which he was beginning to learn, and the savage answered grinning:

"They are the drums of Chief Wabiti, my father. We are near his camp now."

"Here they come!" exclaimed Dan. "Say, this beats a circus parade!"

Ahead of them on the forest trail the boys caught sight of dark figures moving among the trees and spots of gay color. As they reached a small clearing, Kulki led the party to a fallen log at one side, where Dick sat with his followers standing around him.

Then Chief Wabiti and his people entered to greet their new ruler, the Boy King, with drums beating and voices raised in a shrill song of welcome.

"Quick, Raal, where is the crown?" Dick asked and his savage henchman hastily unwrapped the heavy diadem from a covering of zebra skin and handed it to his master, bowing low as he did so.

Dick placed the crudely fashioned crown of soft gold and uncut gems upon his head, while Dan inspected him with a grin, remarking, "It sets a little sideways, Dick. Say, you need me along to keep your royal crown from slipping over your eye."

"Lay off, Dan! Don't get funny!"

Dick turned to Kulki. "Where's my sword of state?"

Down on his knees went the hairy, dark-skinned Kulki, and presented the flint knife on both open palms.

"Good! Now Dan, you stand close to me and hold out the field glasses where they will impress the natives."

Dick with his zebra skin garments, his crown, flint knife and respectful attendants looked enough like a tribal king to impress Wabiti, who entered the clearing at that moment, following his bodyguard and a procession of young girls ornamented with garlands of flowers. Behind him came his sons, princes of the Gorol tribe, but all of lesser rank than Kulki.

At the sight of Tahara, the new king, who was now ruler of both the tribes, Wabiti fell flat on his face and crawled forward to embrace the young monarch's ankles.

His followers prostrated themselves at the same moment, all but the drummers, who stood to one side beating furiously upon the instruments with their flat hands.

"Tahara, hal!"

The words came from the aged Wabiti in a submissive growling voice from the pit of his stomach. His gray head was almost between Dick Oakwood's feet.

Kulki echoed the words in a ringing shout.

"Tahara, hal! Tahara!"

All the Gorol tribe followed, chanting at the top of their lungs, while the women and girls repeated the words of submission in shrill, piercing voices.

The uproar terrified the brightly plumaged birds in the treetops and sent the curious little monkeys scuttling to safety.

Dick was about to raise Wabiti to his feet, when Dan remarked, "Let him stay where he is a while longer. I remember that old scoundrel did not lift a hand to save me, the night of the witch hunt. Let him stay there till his joints get stiff!"

"Don't blame him for that," said Dick. "Wabiti couldn't help himself."

"That's right. He was scared of old Cimbula. By the way, where do you suppose that rascally witch-doctor is hiding out?"

"Can't say, Dan! But don't worry! The tribes are through with him and his so-called magic."

While Dick and his chum were talking, the tribe of Gorols showed some degree of uneasiness. Dick was not aware of it, but his delay in giving the signal for Wabiti to rise was taken as a sign of anger.

The Gorols remembered how Dan had been chosen for sacrifice in the Boiling Black Spring that night of the terrible witch hunt, and when they saw him talking earnestly with Dick, they thought he was urging the new king to punish them.

The women and girls of the tribe began swaying and weaving their arms over their heads in a dance of terror. Their high pitched voices broke into a wailing plea for mercy:

"Ah-woe, ah-woe, Tahara!"

Even the drummers joined in begging for a pardon, for the drums rolled in a melancholy rhythm.

Kulki bowed to the ground and cried, "May I speak, Master?"

"Speak, Kulki!"

"Is my lord angry?"

"Angry at what, Kulki?"

"We did wrong! Be merciful, O King. Touch my father with the flat of your knife as a sign of pardon."

"Pardon?"

"Yes, O mighty Tahara. If one of us must be slain, strike me. But do not kill my father before the tribe that loves him."

Dick was astonished at the earnestness of the young savage, and also at the spirit of sacrifice.

He smiled and spoke to Dan.

"Pretty sporting, eh?"

"I'll say so! Kulki shows the right spirit."

As the tribe saw Dan and Dick smiling, their fears were turned to rejoicing, and a great shout went up as Dick stooped and patted the old chief on his grey head.

"We are friends," he said.

"I am your slave, O Tahara," exclaimed Wabiti.

"And I!" Kulki cried while Wabiti's other sons all shouted in their own language, "Long live Tahara, King of the two tribes!"

After this ceremony, Wabiti led the way to the clearing under his airy village in the trees.

In a great pit, filled with glowing coals, were the carcasses of mountain goats, antelopes and wild boars. Small birds were roasting on skewers held by women of the tribe, while girls came forward with woven trays heaped high with tropical fruits such as Dick had eaten among the Taharans.

There were melons, dates, pomegranates and many others that he did not know by name, also gourds full of a delicious drink made from honey and wild grapes.

"Oh boy! This is the life!" exclaimed Dan. "Hey sister, bring over that basket of figs! Look at this, Dick! Ripe figs, purple and white figs! They're sweet as sugar."

Dick smiled and tasted the fruit but Dan insisted on keeping a basket beside him while the guests and Wabiti sat on the grass and the feast began.

Dan Carter, who enjoyed his meals and never passed up anything, was the