“What’s the matter, Raal? You seem to be worried about something.” Dick Oakwood, blue eyed and smiling and resembling a blond savage in his garb of soft zebra skin, glanced down at his chief warrior who prostrated himself at the feet of the boy king.

“Tahara, hal! Come quickly, O Master!” replied Raal, his whole body expressing fear.

“What is it, Raal? What new danger threatens us now?” asked Dick, dropping the work he was doing and facing the stocky figure of the warrior.

“Tahara is great! I do not fear,” replied Raal still bowing low before the boy, but his trembling shoulders and terror-stricken eyes told Dick that something unusual had happened.

Dick Oakwood cast a glance about the royal enclosure, a spring surrounded by date palms, then strained his eyes toward the vast expanse of the Sahara. Everything was quiet. It was mid-afternoon and the savages went about their work in drowsy fashion still only half awakened from their siesta, the resting time while the blazing sun was at its height. The women were in their caves, busy with the weaving and spinning. The tribesmen of the kingdom of Tahara were in the fields, cultivating the ground while others were chipping flint arrowheads and making bows and spears. There was no sign of trouble anywhere.

Dick turned to Raal. “Speak, Raal, what bothers you?”

“O Master,” gasped the chief warrior, nervously gripping his stone hatchet. “Near the spot where the great bird-demon rested a few suns ago, a strange object with terrible staring eyes, is lying in the sand. It is an evil spirit, I am sure.”

“Bring it here, Raal. I would see what it is.”

Raal started violently as if struck, his tanned face turned pale. “I dare not, O Tahara! It is perhaps black magic! It may work evil. I beg of you, Tahara, take your bow and drive an arrow through this demon’s heart before it slays us.”

“Come with me, Raal!” commanded Dick. “Show me this strange creature! How big is it? As big as a leopard?”

“No master it is very small, but terrible, and its skin is black and shiny. In truth it is a wicked demon.”

“Fear not, Raal, for I, Tahara have chased away all evil spirits.”

“But the strange creature, O Master, is not good to look at. It watches you with great shining eyes that stare and never blink.”

Dick looked amused and puzzled. As the pair walked together over the sandy waste, Dick’s tall, slender body stood out in striking contrast to that of his thick-set companion. Raal was heavily muscled and his blond hair hung about his shoulders while his face was covered with a light beard. Though he was an African, Raal was a white savage of the Stone-Age, for the Taharans were a survival of ancient times.

Dick’s blue eyes were glowing with interest as he neared the spot where the strange creature was said to be hiding. What could it be? What new menace was he about to face?

Suddenly Raal slowed his steps, gripping his stone hatchet in readiness to strike. “Not so fast, O Master. The demon may be asleep and we can slip up on him unawares,” cautioned the warrior.

But Dick had caught sight of the object half hidden in the sand, and with an exclamation of joy he sprang forward and picked it up.

“Ah-woe, Tahara!” moaned Raal. “Have a care, Master.”

But Dick did not hear him. “Good!” he exclaimed. “Just what I need. Binoculars! I bet Rex Carter will be mad when he finds that he left his field glasses behind. It’s my lucky day!”

Raal looked on in fear as Dick put the glasses to his eyes and gazed out over the desert.

“Good!” said Dick smiling at Raal. “These are binoculars.”

“Binoculars!” muttered Raal. “What a terrible word. It must be a fierce creature to have such a name.” He watched Dick holding the glasses to his eyes and added with admiration, “How brave is Tahara! My Master has great courage to handle such a terrifying demon without fear!”

Dick offered the glasses to his warrior but Raal backed away hastily.

“The evil eye! Ah-woe, Tahara!”

Dick laughed. “Take a look, Raal. They are, in truth, magic glasses. But you can see that they do not harm me.”

Raal shook his head vigorously. Tahara was all-powerful, that he knew. Tahara could cast out evil. But he, Raal, was not a god and could not afford to take chances.

Dick Oakwood looked at his chief warrior with a tolerant smile. Here was a man, brave in battle, a great fighter, a courageous hunter, taking chances with his life a thousand times in combat with his enemies or a hand-to-hand struggle with wild animals, yet the sight of the binoculars with their glass lenses that looked to his savage mind as great unwinking eyes, had sent him into a panic. And Raal was one of the bravest of his subjects. The others were far less intelligent.

Dick looked forward to the time when he could teach this tribe the folly of superstition. These strange fancies of demons and witchcraft, learned from Cimbula, the wily medicine-man, had more than once stood him in good stead, for Dick had used their fears to bend their wills to his, but now that he had brought peace to his kingdom, he wanted to break down these superstitious ideas that kept the tribe from advancing in the arts of peace.

Dick Oakwood had joined an expedition to Africa undertaken by his father, Professor Hector Oakwood, a famous scientist, who had come to the desert to find and study a tribe of white savages living in an obscure mountain fastness and said to be of a Stone-Age race. Professor Mason and Dr. Jarvis had their own projects, the study of the jungle plants and reptiles, while Rex Carter, the millionaire, who financed the expedition, was interested in the eclipse of the sun which he wanted to study from a temporary observatory put up on an oasis in the desert. His other interest was in seeing that his son and daughter, Dan and Ray Carter, had a good time on the trip. Dan’s carefree disposition, his ability to find fun under all circumstances, kept the party from taking the dangers and inconveniences too seriously. Dan always brought a laugh with him.

All went well until Jess Slythe, an unscrupulous adventurer, managed to attach himself to the expedition, foreseeing an opportunity to get a large sum of money from the wealthy Rex Carter. After helping to establish the camp at the Pomegranate Oasis, Jess Slythe found that Dick Oakwood was watching his movements with suspicion. The boy was alert to everything that went on in the camp.

The treacherous Slythe, aided by Suli, his Arab servant, persuaded Dick to take them in his plane, the Meteorite, on a trip of exploration into a mountainous country said to be rich in gold. Dick was pleased at this plan, the desert seemed to call to him with a promise of thrilling adventures. But when they were far away from the Pomegranate Oasis, Slythe started a fight with Dick, who was forced to take a parachute jump in order to save his life. He landed in a mountainous district among a white tribe of savages, known as the Taharans. By a clever trick the boy made these savages believe that he was Tahara, their god of the sun.

Only Cimbula, the witch-doctor, refused to accept him as a god, and continued to stir up suspicion against him, urging his followers to kill the boy. It took courage, quick thinking and prompt action to save Dick from the dangers in which he found himself, for the tribe would worship him one moment and in the next would be preparing a ceremony of execution in which Dick was to be the chief sacrifice.

He won the respect of the Taharans by helping them conquer their enemies, the Gorols, a black, hairy tribe of savages not much above the apes. In ancient times the two tribes, the Gorols and Taharans had been under one ruler, but that was long ago, before the golden crown of the king had been stolen. Since then, frequent attacks and raids from both sides kept the district in a constant state of war.

Dick Oakwood showed the Stone-Age men how to make and use bows and arrows and once in a battle with the Gorols when defeat and death for his warriors seemed certain, the boy arranged a catapult to shoot rocks to the top of a cliff. Then his warriors hailed him as “Tahara, hal!” only to turn against him when Jess Slythe took a hand in the battle by throwing hand grenades from the Meteorite among the Taharan warriors. The Stone-Age men had scattered quickly to find any refuge from this deadly fire from the sky, and Dick was taken prisoner by Cimbula and kept in his cave until such time as he decided to kill him. Dick managed to escape and rescued Ray and Dan whom Slythe had left with the Gorols. Dan was about to be sacrificed by the jealous Cimbula when Dick came upon the scene and saved his friend.

Dick found himself in many tight places and in the end it appeared to the boy that there was no way out. He and his friends, Dan and Ray, were to be executed by the Taharans whom Cimbula had set against them. But Dick did not give up hope and his alert mind found a way out of the difficulty. He found the golden crown, which he wore, uniting once more the two savage tribes.

When Rex Carter arrived in his plane to find his family, Dick had been crowned King of the Taharans. After hearing the whole story from Ray and Dan, he refused to believe that the young people were safe among this strange race.

“Get ready and let’s be off!” he said to Dick as he looked anxiously around at the suspicious warriors, who gazed in horror at the great airplane that rested on the sands before the oasis.

“Nothing doing, I’m staying here,” replied Dick. “I wouldn’t miss this for anything!”

“You’re fooling, Dick! You wouldn’t want to stay here! Let’s go!” urged Rex Carter.

“I’m not fooling, Mr. Carter. This will be my one and only chance to be a real king. I’ve earned this job and I’m not going to give it up. Tell Dad I’ve found that Stone-Age tribe!”

Rex Carter looked at Dan and Ray, with a question in his eyes.

Ray took her father’s hand and snuggled up to him as if for protection, but Dan turned to his friend.

“Say Dick are you positive that there’ll always be plenty of eats?” he asked.

“I promise,” replied Dick with a smile.

“Then I’m staying as chief adviser to the king!” Dan said with a smile as he turned to his father.

Rex Carter looked troubled, but Dick’s confident manner assured him that he could trust his son to him.

“It’s all right, Mr. Carter,” said Dick seriously. “We couldn’t leave these people without a king and an adviser. They are depending on us! We have to stay!”

Thus had Dick Oakwood become Tahara, the Boy King of the Desert.

His ambition was to develop the Stone-Age tribesmen in the ways of peace and progress, without allowing them to be robbed or reduced to slavery by greedy fortune-seekers from the outside world.

But in planning this happy future of his people, the Boy King did not foresee that he would have to fight off raiders and bandits who wanted to enslave them.

Dick Oakwood’s exciting adventures had only just begun and before they ended he was to go through many fierce battles and hair-breadth escapes.