"It's a bad break for us, either way," admitted Dick. "But it's too late to turn back now. We'll just have to take a chance."
"Why couldn't the Mahatma have foreseen this in his crystal?" Dan growled.
"You expect too much. The Hindu can't see everything."
"Well, it's up to him to make good," Dan persisted. "He said we would rescue Ray and your father and Veena, and if he lets us down, I'll make him sweat for it!"
The war party proceeded more cautiously than before. Word had spread through the little army that a spy had been shot at but had escaped, so every man was on his guard for attackers.
For some time nothing unusual happened, though there was a constant feeling of dread. At any moment a shower of arrows and spears might bring death to the invaders. The forest seemed more terrifying than ever and even the Kungoras, who would rather fight than eat, showed the nervous strain.
Finally Mutaba stopped short in his tracks with a sharp "Psst!" and held up his hand.
"What is it now?" gasped Dan, fitting an arrow to his bow.
Dick brought his clumsy Arab gun level for a shot at the hidden enemy. But this time the foe was not human.
Through the tangle of vines and saplings a huge head loomed above the party. It was an enormous elephant that faced them with murderous rage in its little bright eyes.