a terrific din
in the forest that was usually so quiet. Small game fled in terror
before the onrush that shook the ground. Snakes slid swiftly out of
the way of the charging herd. No creature large or small dared to stay
in its path.

And this onslaught was most violent when it swept upon the camp of the
Muta-Kungas. Warned by their scout who had been shot at by Mutaba, the
tribesmen of Chief Mobogoma were prepared for battle. Armed with
flat-pointed spears and bows and arrows, they were drawn up awaiting
the word to meet their enemies and attack them from ambush. The
Muta-Kungas were ferocious looking fellows with degraded faces and
about their necks they wore huge ruffs of brightly colored feathers.

Abdul and his men were ready with their guns and scimiters, while Jess
Slythe was guarding two of the prisoners, Professor Oakwood and Ray
Carter, with the help of a couple of Arabs. Cimbula who had impressed
the tribe by his craftiness, was guarding the Princess Veena in a hut
reserved for prospective brides of Chief Mobogoma. The one-eyed
witch-doctor was quite at home in the enemy camp and hoped to see the
Taharans slain.

The Arab horses were in a large corral, for the forest was too dense to
use them in fighting, and as for flight, nobody had even considered it,
as the Muta-Kungas expected to kill off the invaders before they even
reached the camp.

But the whirlwind attack threw them all into confusion. First came the
small animals, running as though the forest were afire behind them,
then crash, _crash_, CRASH, the old bull elephant charged right through
the village, his herd at his heels.

Down went the fences of the small garden patches and down went every
hut that stood in the way. Even the chief's big house was not spared
and Mobogoma himself had to duck out of the way as a raging elephant
brought down the thatched roof. His wives and children fled screaming
into the wilderness, scattering before the thundering terror.

Brave as they were, the Muta-Kungas did not even try to fight off the
charging elephants, but sought shelter behind big trees, and as for the
Arabs, they made a wild dash for their horses, which had broken loose
from the wrecked corral.

Dick shouted to his Taharans and Gorols, "Let 'em have it!" as his
forces swept into the wrecked village.

"Let 'em have it!" echoed Dan Carter. "Give 'em the axe!" Both boys
were keenly alive to the danger that the captives were exposed