weave cloth or make tools out of
metal. It is going to be interesting to watch them advance in
civilization."

"I can send out motor trucks with machinery," said Rex Carter, "and
start you off right. And I'll send a few guards with repeating rifles
to keep the natives from starting trouble. I'll even send you a
machine gun or two."

"No thanks, Mr. Carter! I don't want _that_ brand of civilization. We
have enough factory towns and machine guns elsewhere. I'd like to
start something better here."

"In that case I advise you to blot out that big sign on the desert,"
said his father. "That word 'Gold' will attract some greedy
adventurer, and before long your whole population will be wiped out."

"You're right, Dad! It's a word that spells trouble."

Dick gave orders to the Taharans and the Gorols to scatter the rocks
that formed the letters and destroy every trace of the sign, and then
led the party to the cave where Umba had painted the walls with
pictures of animals.

"These are marvelous!" cried Professor Oakwood. "Just as fine as the
paintings in the caves of Spain and France. I could spend a whole day
here."

Leaving the rest of the party with Umba, the crippled painter, Dick
Oakwood and Mahatma Sikandar proceeded to the cave of the Great Gorol,
where he had left the ancient crown. The entrance to the cavern was
guarded by tribesmen, stationed there for that purpose, and when Dick
and the Mahatma approached, they bowed low and cried, "Tahar Tahara,
hal! Welcome, O Master."

Taking a couple of pitch pine torches, Dick led the way through the
passages of the prehistoric mine, pointing out the seams of
gold-bearing quartz.

But the Hindu paid no attention to the rich ore.

"Make haste, Dick Sahib," he said. "I would feast my eyes upon the
ancient diadem and its magic inscriptions."

"Patience, O Mahatma! Patience!" laughed Dick. "One more turn and the
passage ends in the temple of the Ape-god."

Soon they reached the small, square room where, upon the block of
stone, reposed the crown of the two tribes.

Mahatma Sikandar prostrated himself before it, murmuring a chant of
thanksgiving, then held his torch close to the massive circlet of soft
gold and gems. His keen, dark eyes were gleaming with excitement as he
studied every detail of the relic engraved with symbols.

Dick Oakwood picked it up and held it so that the inner surface could
be seen and the Mahatma gave an exclamation of del