The wise man came last. Even in the dense jungle he refused to walk, so the litter was carried by his bearers, while hatchet-wielding natives cut and slashed at the vines and brush.
But when he reached the clearing, Mahatma Sikandar refused firmly to accompany the war party any further and ordered the litter set down under a tree.
"My ways are the ways of peace," he said. "I remain here and my spirit will direct you from afar."
"I wonder whether he's afraid," whispered Dan.
"Ssh," cautioned Dick. "There you go! Offending him again!"
For the Mahatma's dark eyes stared angrily in Dan's direction and he beckoned the boys to come closer.
"Listen," he said. "I came from my own country in search of peace. A voice led me for many weary miles over seas and strange lands, across burning deserts and at last I was directed by my unseen guide to this jungle tribe. The voice directed me to bring peace to the warlike tribe of the Kungoras."
"And the natives understood and bowed down to you?" questioned Dick.
"Yes, my son. Fierce as they are, they received me as a friend and master. From that day, they have had no war. I promised them peace and I brought them peace."
"I see that they are anxious to join us in this raid," said Dan. "They have been quiet too long."