of canoes was riding on the river and the Taharans and Gorols
were now to learn the art of paddling a vessel down stream.

Mutaba went in the first canoe with Dick and Dan.

Raal followed in the second, while Kurt and Kurul commanded the third
and fourth.

Following a command from the Mahatma, a number of men came forward.
They were paddlers who were to accompany the expedition and instruct
the desert dwellers how to handle the boats.

Soon the river was crowded with light craft, manned by warriors at the
paddles.

"Where is the Wise Old Bird?" asked Dan.

"Hope he didn't give us the slip," said Dick. "We may need his help
before the day is over."

"The Master of Wisdom is in the biggest canoe," said Mutaba, pointing
out an exceptionally broad craft with a small cabin of boughs built at
the widest part.

True to form, the Mahatma had insisted upon his privacy even in a
canoe, and his followers had built a bower-like shelter of saplings,
vines and flowering plants, in which the sage could sit cross-legged
and meditate.

"That beats all!" Dan marvelled. "Old Brains can certainly make the
strong-arm boys wait on him! When he says 'jump,' they all step
lively."

The Mahatma's canoe was followed by a second, on which his litter was
carried. Evidently the sage had no intention of doing any part of the
journey afoot.

His vessel kept in the middle of the string of canoes that slid quietly
down the stream, for he had figured out that the safest place was where
he would be protected from attacks from either direction.

As the fleet moved under the strokes of strong-muscled paddlers, a
low-pitched chant arose from the blacks. It floated over the water and
the Taharans and the Gorols listened and soon joined in with the
melody, though the words meant nothing to them.

But it was clearly a song of battle and raiding, for the eyes of the
black men gleamed excitedly and the whites showed as they rolled them
while they plied their paddles with energy. The boats sped faster and
faster.

By that time the Taharans and the Gorols, unused to the ways of rivers,
had learned the simple art of driving the canoes forward with strokes
in time to the chant.

The blond warriors bent to it with zest, their great muscles swelling,
while the lighter built Gorols tried to outstrip them in clever use of
the paddle.

Soon it was developing into a race, and Raal, who was burning with
impatience, felt satisfied at last. He