which the tribe owned but had never learned to use.

"Can you beat it!" exclaimed Dan. "These fellows think a pony is good for just one thing. They raise them for food."

"They are rather small to ride," said Dick, "but I'll tell you what, we'll break a few to the saddle anyhow."

"First we'll have to make a saddle."

"And then we'll show these Taharans what a horse-breaker their king can be."

But that plan had to be delayed for before the horse-breaking could begin a reign of terror swept like a hurricane over the peaceful kingdom of Tahara.

CHAPTER III

ARAB RAIDERS

Dan came running to Dick Oakwood and cried, "Say it looks to me like a sandstorm over there. Maybe we had all better get under cover!"

Across the desert, far away, Dick saw a cloud of dust rising into the hot blue sky and called Raal.

"Is that a sandstorm?" he asked.

Raal studied the horizon carefully with narrowed eyes. "No, Master. When the sandstorm comes from the desert, it is not like that. Overhead the color changes and threatens danger. It may be a herd of wild horses that raises the dust."

"Do wild horses run about on the desert?" asked Dan.

"Never before have I seen them, but of late I have seen many strange things. I have seen birds that carry men and I have seen the sun darkened."

Dick took his binoculars and studied the morning cloud, but it was too far for him to make out what was kicking up the dust. Dan looked without success, and Dick turned to the natives.

"You try what you can see," he said to Raal, handing over the binoculars.

The Taharan took the "magic glasses" with awe. Never could he outgrow the superstitious terror that they aroused.

"They won't hurt you," laughed Dan. "Take a chance! You saw me use them."

"Yet they are strong magic. I fear them because I do not understand."

"It's all right. They are harmless to you. Look!" And as Dick helped him to focus the binoculars, Raal cried out in amazement.

"Ah-woe, ah-woe! I see warriors!—Or demons, mounted on horses! The magic brings them close! Ah-woe!"

Dick took the glasses and thought he could make out what the sharp-eyed savage had seen.

"Arabs!" he gasped. "A wild tribe of nomads!"

"Arabs, Master?"

Raal did not know what he was talking about. Never had raiding Arabs found this spot so far from the caravan trails. In the history of the tribe, no strangers had ever visited the land until the airplanes had brought Dick and those others from the sky. Yet with the instinct of the savage, Raal was quick to grasp the idea of a raid by enemies.

"Arabs! If they be men, we will fight them!"

"Lucky for you we are here to protect you!" said Dan.

"Quick, Raal!" cried Dick. "Assemble the warriors with all their weapons. Spears, bows and arrows, stone hatchets and knives! Order the war drums to be sounded!"

"I hear, O Master!"

Raal hurried to obey. Shaggy blond tribesmen sprang to the hollow logs, with tightly stretched hides and soon the roll of the drums brought Taharan warriors hurrying from the fields. The alarm throbbed until the air was vibrating with a feeling of menace. The call to battle carried over the cliffs and beyond to the Gorol tree dwellings, and soon the ape-men were seen, scrambling down the steep rocks, with their war chief, Kulki, among them.

Their thin figures, covered with a fine growth of dark hair, made them resemble something more than beast and less than man. Like goats they found a footing on the steep sides. Their bodies were stringy and tough-muscled; light in weight, they were far stronger than the average civilized man, and more agile even than the Taharans.

As warriors they were formidable, and Kulki, their leader, was fearless and a tricky fighter.

Raal, too, was brave in battle and the Taharans were superb warriors. With their throwing sticks they could hurl a lance with such force that it would go right through a man's body, and as archers they could bring down a bird in flight with their flint-tipped arrows.

"There's trouble coming, sure!" exclaimed Dan Carter. "Jiminy, I'd hate to be an Arab and get crowned with Raal's flint hatchet."

But the Arabs were not fighting with such Stone-Age weapons. They carried long-barreled guns, that could pick off a bowman far beyond arrow range, and their swift horses and camels could keep them safe from attack.

"Dan, you keep close to me!" exclaimed Dick. "I'll need you to act as my lieutenant. This is going to be a real scrap!"

Dick saw at a glance that the battle would have to be carried on from the cliffs. There the Taharans and Gorols would have the advantage of cover and the Arab horses would be useless in fighting.

Yet he knew that a sharp resistance would weaken the Arab force and lessen their confidence. The first line of battle he entrusted to Raal and a force of picked Taharan archers.

"Post your men between the desert sands and the Sacred Spring," Dick ordered. "Let each man find shelter behind a rock and see to it that he can retreat to the cliffs at top speed. Then as soon as the enemy comes within bow-shot let drive at him with arrows and retreat, still shooting. Post a second line closer to the spring. And a third beside the water."

"I hear, O Master. I obey!"

Without losing a moment Raal ordered his archers to find an ambush shutting off the invaders from the spring. Dick knew well that the cool water would be the first thing these raiders would want after the long trip across the blistering hot sands. No matter how full their water bags had been at the start, they would be empty now.

The spring would be the first point of attack.

Dan studied the Arabs through the binoculars. "There are hundreds of them," he cried, "on horses and camels! They are a fierce looking gang of bandits."

"Raal will tame them when they get within bowshot," said Dick.

Meanwhile Kulki in command of the Gorols, took up a position on the cliff edge, while all the small children and old people of the cave dwellers, hurried to find shelter in the mountains.

The older children and the women brought big stones to the edge of the cliff to roll down upon the invaders.

All these preparations had gone forward with breathless haste, for the Arab raiders were closing in fast.

Leaving Dan behind, Dick advanced to meet them, carrying a white flag; one of the first fabrics woven on his looms. He did not want to begin hostilities until he was quite certain that the Arabs were bent on war, and waved the flag as a signal.

But Dick was not long left in doubt as to their hostile purpose.

The Arabs began shooting at the flag of truce long before they were within rifle range. Bullets threw up puffs of dust in the desert and Dick retreated to the first line, where archers were crouching behind scattered boulders, and took refuge.

The thunder of hoof beats was loud in his ears, the tossing heads and flying foam of the horses showed clearly, before Dick shouted:

"Let them have it!"

Raal echoed his command. "Let them have it! Tahara, hal!"

Instantly the band of horsemen was stung by a cloud of arrows. Horses and riders were pierced by the flint-tipped arrows and a dozen saddles showed empty as the horses galloped on.

There was a shout of rage and surprise. The raiders had expected no such fierce resistance and some shrieked to Allah and Mohammed, his prophet, while others vented screams of pain.

"Slay them! The dogs of unbelievers!" shouted Abdul, their leader.

A crackling volley of rifle shots rang out, bullets whined through the air and flattened themselves upon the boulders and the troop swerved sharply to one side.

"Another!" cried Dick. "Give it to them!"

Again arrows stung them like hornets and the Bedouins, firing wildly, were thrown into confusion.

Then as the