"I don't care," returned Charlie. "I got all I wanted of elephant hunting, and that's flat, General. My knees are shaking yet."

"It was sheer luck, though," said von Hofe as he filled his pipe and settled back in his folding chair. "We will not find another bull like that for a hundred miles."

"Well, I'm just as glad it's over," announced Jack. "Now we can strike for parts unknown and enjoy life. We haven't struck any real work yet."

"You'll get work enough before you're through," said the explorer grimly. And as it turned out, Jack did.



CHAPTER VIII

A RECONNAISSANCE

"Well, General, what's doing next?"

It was the morning after the great hunt, and they had just finished a delicious breakfast of roasted calves' feet and bananas. The explorer was puffing at his briar luxuriously, and turned to the doctor.

"Guru says that the skins are on the way now, Doctor. How long will it take you to get them in shape to go back?"

"Ten days," returned the German, whose cases were all piled in readiness before an open space.

"Need us here?"

"No. Get out and keep those boys from bothering me."

"Good!" laughed the explorer, and turned lazily to Charlie. "Feel like starting out this morning? I want to push ahead on horseback and trace out the route for the wagons. I've got it pretty well lined out now, but we've got to make sure about provisions and all that."

"I'm willing," announced Charlie, and Jack nodded unconcernedly.

So, just as the Masai and Kikuyu, who had worked all night, came in with the skins of the slain elephants, the three rode out together. The Indians were highly disappointed that they were not to go along, but the explorer did not wish to be bothered with them, and they would be useless on this excursion.

Schoverling had provided himself with government maps showing the villages, and the best route across the plateau and through the hills had been traced out for him. On second thought, however, he sent back for Gholab Singh, who knew most of the native dialects from his years of residence in the country, and left the camp in charge of Guru instead.

At noon they struck into the caravan track from the north, and stopped at each village in passing, where Gholab made inquiries. They found that there was no lack of chickens, and wild fowl might be had on every hand for the shooting. As for vegetables, every village had its mealie patch, yams, bananas, a beet-like plant, and other greens which none of the three recognized, but which Gholab assured them were excellent eating. Besides, there were quantities of fish in the streams. On the whole, Charlie was amazed at the readiness with which food could be had; while to Jack, used to a hard-earned rabbit or trap-line in the snows, the quantity of game was astounding.

"I don't think we'll have any trouble living off the land," chuckled the General that night. They had camped beside a mountain stream. In place of tents, their hand axes lopped off a brush shelter in short order. A trout-like fish was plentiful in the stream, and half a dozen of these were soon broiling. These, with fried bananas and tea, made a generous meal.

"Can't see the sense o' fetching them traps," grunted Jack. "Better leave 'em behind when we start. What good are they?"

"I don't know, Jack. Can't tell what we'll strike, though."

"Where does this caravan route go to?" asked Charlie. "This looks as if it was deserted."

"Oh, a caravan of camels and horses comes down about once a year from the lakes up north, toward the Abyssinian border. We only follow it over the plateau with the wagons."

There was no doubt that the route, which existed on the map only, was practicable for the light wagons. The next day they were among the hills, in high altitudes, and here the game almost vanished for the next two days. The villages of the natives were scattered, but those that they found had more cultivated land near by than the others, which made up for the scarcity of game. The wagons were much under-loaded, and were taken more to bring back what might be found north of the Lorian swamp than for anything else.

"Seems to me," said Charlie on the third day, as he thawed out a gourd full of water that had frozen overnight, "that we could load up the wagons with green stuff when we go through here. That last village we came through was plumb chuck full o' pumpkins."

"Melons, you mean," laughed Jack. "I dug into one. There was some squash, though, in the back fields. How far we going, General?"

Schoverling consulted his pocket-map and compass before replying.

"We ought to be near the station of the commissioner of the district now. If we don't strike it by night we may as well go back. I've found out what we came for."

About noon, however, they came to a long unpainted frame building with corrugated iron roof, set in the midst of a grove of small trees. At the rear were stables and a great corral of wire netting, in which grazed a herd of ostriches. As they rode up to the door one or two natives came out, and a khaki-clad Englishman with shoulder-straps rushed out to receive them.

"Hello!" laughed Schoverling as he shook hands. "This is the commissioner—Captain Yonge?"

"Yes—and this is the famous Schoverling, I'll wager," smiled the clean-shaven officer. "But where's von Hofe? I got word from down country to watch out for him."

Matters were soon explained, and they joined Yonge at lunch. An hour later a dozen trim King's African Rifles cantered up—Zulus all, under command of Yonge, who maintained order through two hundred miles of savagery.

"Say, the old M. P. ain't in it with this!" said Jack that evening, as he and Charlie wandered out to inspect the ostrich farm. "Hear that yarn he told about nabbing those ju-ju murderers last year, single-handed. No wonder he got a D. S. O. for it!"

"And they do it all with native troops, too," added Charlie thoughtfully. "You've got to hand it to the British for governing by force of character, right enough. Wonder what the country gets like on the other side of this plateau. Let's find out."

But they found out little. Captain Yonge said that beyond the Guaso Nyero, in the north, the region was practically unexplored. After the great river was left behind there were deserts, strange tribes, great morasses, and the "going" was exceedingly "tough."

"Did you ever hear of a Lake Quilqua?" asked Charlie.

"Often," and the commissioner chuckled. "But, as you Americans say, there's 'nothing in it.' These natives will make up all kinds of yarns, simply to amuse us."

Yonge himself had tried to penetrate the country to the northeast, but had found it impracticable, as he could not get away for very long. Other explorers had sheered off to the easier country to south and northwest, but he agreed that if they wanted a big bull, a rogue, they would stand a better chance of getting one in there than anywhere else.

"When you stop with the wagons," he said, "I'll give you some water-casks. They may come in handy, as I know from experience."

All remained the next day, highly interested in the court of justice being held over a dispute between two villages. The little plain on which lay the commissioner's station was not cultivated, but it lay in the central part of his district, and was eminently suited for ostrich farming, which was his hobby.

They set out on a leisurely return to the little safari, accompanied for a few miles by the soldierly Zulus. They were well received by the natives, for except in a few spots of Africa, there is to-day nothing but respect for the whites; the dangers of early explorations have largely passed away under the influence of the far-reaching prestige of civilization. The natives are as savage as ever, but they have tasted the retribution of English and German justice, and have little liking for it.

The four trotted along, Gholab making arrangements with the natives at each village to give them a large supply of fruit and vegetables, but they did no shooting as it was possible to get sheep, goats, or fowl from the natives and fish from the streams and pools. They had timed their ride to get back to the doctor in the evening, and on the morning of their last day's march they came upon a large party of natives setting off into the jungle.

"Want to go along?" smiled the explorer. "Judging from their primitive digging implements, they're going to make an elephant pit."

"You bet!" cried the boys. Slipping from their horses, which were left in charge of Gholab Singh, all three joined the natives, who received them with delight, and all set off along an old elephant track.

"Guess they think we'll bring 'em good luck," grinned Jack. "Got your camera, Chuck?"

Charlie fortunately had brought it, and an hour later he put it into active operation, to the curiosity and childish amusement of the negroes. They had stopped in a little open space full of fresh spoor and elephant signs, and a score of natives were instantly at work clearing off the ground at three points. The boys were amazed at the rapidity with which the work was accomplished with the primitive implements. Chanting a loud, monotonous chorus, the natives threw themselves into the work and speedily had three pits started. These were about four feet wide and twelve long at the top.

"It's against the law for them to kill elephants," said Schoverling, "but they pay little enough heed to that. There are hundreds of these pits scattered between here and Kenia."

"How do they watch them all?" asked Charlie. "They must have an awful time keeping track of their trap-line!"

"They don't watch them," laughed the explorer. "They wait till they see the vultures and jackals heading somewhere, and trail along. An elephant lives for days after he is trapped, for you'll see that the pits narrow down at the bottom, and his feet are wedged in so that he can't move."

"He must be pretty ripe by the time they get to him," returned Jack disgustedly.

"They don't care for that. These Ndorobo are little better than carrion feeders anyway, and once an elephant is caught a whole village is stocked in meat for a long time."

As the holes were dug deeper, others of the natives carried off the dirt, scattering it carefully in the depths of the jungle. The boys secured some excellent views of the proceedings, but they were unable to remain for the entire digging. The finished pit would be about ten feet in depth, and at the bottom scarcely a foot wide. Fortunately for white hunters these pits were not staked, as after a week or two the slight covering of sticks, leaves and dirt is overlaid with vines and vegetation that completely conceals it from sight. Indeed, they had passed more than one pit on their way.

A guide was sent back with them when they left the scene of operation. A little after noon as they neared the safari they came upon a village which was in great excitement. The day before, a man had been killed and another badly gored by a bull buffalo, and the wounded man was then in camp under the doctor's care. The villagers appealed to the white men to kill the buffalo, and the latter needed little urging.

"You want to be careful," said Schoverling as they advanced on foot with some of the men. "A buffalo is about the most dangerous of beasts in these parts. Shoot to cripple him, never mind the head."

The buffalo was located in a patch of reeds and long swamp-grass near a pool only a few miles distant. Further approach was impossible, and they remained on dry ground while the natives tried to beat out the animal. In this they were all too successful. With a crash, the powerful beast swept through the reeds and charged a group of warriors, who scattered to shelter with yells and splashings.

"All right, Charlie," said Schoverling, quietly.

Charlie put a bullet behind the shoulder just in time to save a Kikuyu man. The bull whirled like a flash, and as he did so two more broke cover and charged with a bellow. Jack halted one with a stunning bullet that shattered against its skull. The explorer dropped the other, breaking its shoulder at the first shot.

Then the other came on full tilt, with lowered head. Charlie emptied his magazine at the one he had first wounded, and all four shots took effect, breaking the animal's back and killing him instantly. Jack's bull got within fifty yards of them before the boy fired again, imitating the action of the explorer with the bull elephant. Taking careful aim, he pulled trigger when he was sure of his shot, and the bull crashed down into the swamp-reeds badly wounded and seemingly helpless.

The natives darted forward with yells of triumph, but with a final effort the brute clambered up and nearly caught them. Jack put a bullet through its eye, however, that finished it, and the hunt was over. The natives went into ecstacies of delight, dancing around and thanking the three hunters exuberantly.

"That is not useless slaughter," said Schoverling as they returned to the horses. "These buffalo are hard on the natives, breaking into their mealie patches and tearing things up badly. They will charge without the least provocation, and the natives can't stand before them. We did a good turn to this village, certainly."

They remounted and rode on, but their halts had delayed them, and it was nearly dark when they finally rode into the safari and were greeted with loud yells by the Masai, while the big German came forward with smiling countenance and bade them welcome home again.



CHAPTER IX

INTO THE UNKNOWN

"Well, Doctor," announced Schoverling the next morning, "How near through are you? The sooner we get off the better."

"I will be through to-morrow night," said von Hofe contentedly. "The skins have been pared down to the right thickness, and to-day and to-morrow they will be fixed up and sent off. What does the country look like ahead?"

"It looks like several weeks of rough work," smiled the explorer. "We'll have no trouble in getting on, at least for the present. When we strike down into the plains on the north, however, we may have a harder time. But there are fig-trees in plenty, and on the northern rivers cabbage palms and other wild fruits which ought to supply us. Then we can count on leaving on the third morning?"

Von Hofe nodded, and fell to work. The sections of skins were set out on the ground and by this time were well dried, while their superfluous thickness had been pared off by scores of Kikuyu and Masai knives. Now the doctor mixed gourd after gourd of his preparative, and set the natives to work rubbing it into the under side of the skins.

At one side stood the skulls and a few other bones, boiled clear of all flesh and varnished. These, with the tusks of the bull, the doctor began packing up while the skins were being attended to. Guru and the other Indians did all this work with great care, to the entire satisfaction of the scientist. Then the well-wrapped packages were slung to poles, for greater safety and more ease in carriage, and by evening were ready.

The boys pitched in and gave good assistance in this work, directing the natives in putting on coat after coat of preservative and rubbing it in well. But von Hofe was everywhere, mixing his chemicals, seeing that everything was done exactly as he wished it, and seemingly endowed with superhuman energy.

"He's no slouch when he gets a-going," murmured Charlie that night, as von Hofe was getting his sketches and films into shape for packing.

"He's done more hustling to-day than on all the rest of the trip put together."

"That's no lie," agreed Jack. "I kind of thought the old boy was a bluff, at first. But he's all to the good, Chuck. Shouldn't wonder if he surprised us a heap later on."

The next day everything was packed up that could be got ready. The skins were still staked out to dry thoroughly, but the Indians could attend to them, and Schoverling was impatient to be off. Fifty Kikuyu men were hired to take the stuff back, under the lead of the Arab and the two Somalis, who were intelligent and thoroughly reliable. The spare Gurkha was to accompany them.

So far the oxen had got along in fine shape, and when it came to loading the wagons, Charlie in charge of this duty, found that their equipment was light indeed.

"Look here, Gen'ral," he complained late that afternoon, "the doctor has used up ten cases of his stuff. That leaves only five, with his little brass trunk. Then there's that case of tomatoes we haven't opened yet, another of baked beans, the ammunition and guns, tents and Gholab Singh's little stove, and the traps. The whole business won't make a quarter-load for one wagon."

"So much the better for the oxen," returned the explorer. "We'll load up as we go along, Chuck. Jack, I'll appoint you commissary-major, to bring in the supplies of green stuff and vegetables. You can take Gholab as interpreter. It'll be up to you to load, Charlie. We won't have to do much hunting till after we pass the commissioner's place, except for the Masai."

"I'll give you all the work you can handle," prophesied Jack, to his chum. "You just wait!"

The next morning the safari filed out from the camp, the Masai greeting the inspanning with huge delight. Bakari and his men promised that they would accompany Schoverling as far as he wished to go, and the boys were struck more than once by the utter fearlessness of these Masai, who had absolutely no dread of advancing into a strange country.

The march, however, was by no means fast. Von Hofe remained to see his skins safely off, promising to catch up to them later. As before, they made forced marches, for the oxen were fresh and the work was light for them now. Now, as Schoverling had foretold, Jack got all the work he wanted. With three three-hour halts a day, Jack and Gholab rode on ahead and got everything ready for each halt—bartered for goats and sheep and chickens, obtained what vegetables and fruit the natives could spare, and when the wagons arrived Charlie pitched in and loaded up.

So tired were the boys that at night they wrapped up in their blankets and dozed as they rode. Once they passed a herd of at least fifty buffalo, which gathered in a clump, horns out, and pawed the ground and bellowed as the wagons passed. Fortunately, no charge was made, and all drew a breath of relief when the danger was over.

They finally drew up to the station with the wagons loaded high. Captain Yonge greeted von Hofe delightedly, and they rested there for a day. A dozen small water-casks were slung beneath the wagons, to be filled later. As they were departing a native runner came up with news that caused the commissioner to saddle in haste.

"There's an outbreak fifty miles to the west," he said, his men appearing from their own building. "We've got to go over and quash things before the riot spreads. Well, good luck to you all! Sorry I can't be with you!"

Both boys were glad enough to hasten on. The high altitude was not good for the oxen, and the cold nights disgusted both of them, for they were hardly prepared to meet cold in this region. Day and night they forced the march along, and were soon rewarded by drawing through valleys and slopes to the plains once more.

As they went forward the vegetation changed. There was no jungle ahead of them—only long rolling slopes dotted with thorntree patches and covered with long thick grass. More than once lions trotted away before them, and on one occasion they were forced to kill a lioness that charged full at the wagons.

"It is beautiful country," exclaimed von Hofe enthusiastically, pointing to the mountain peaks that shot up on every side. "Some day it will be grand farms, when the soil is watered. See, it is volcanic."

He picked up a stone, showing them the indications of volcanic origin. Here and there palms towered up, and when they camped beside a river the next evening the vegetation bordered its banks thickly. Of game there was no lack, and that night the three took their gun-bearers and sallied forth.

"We ought to find a deer-run along this river," declared Jack. Schoverling smiled.

"According to the map it's a branch of the Guaso Nyero, and the last big stream we strike. To-morrow we head off to the northeast, and into the mapless country. See if you can run across any tracks, boys."

Charlie and Jack separated and after twenty minutes' search in the dusk Charlie located an open glade in a great grove of mimosas, where the deep tracks showed that hundreds of animals were in the habit of watering. Von Hofe had followed them and now joined the party, bearing a little rifle which he had carried in sections in his tiny brass trunk.

"I am something going to shoot," he said, paying no attention to their jests. "Is it allowed to smoke?"

"Not much," chuckled Jack. "You just sit tight and wait. What you going to shoot?"

"I want a good oryx head," declared the scientist. "But I will shoot him myself."

That was a wonderful night to the two boys. Hour after hour they waited until the moon came up, and before them filed uncounted hundreds of animals. There were great droves of zebra, giraffes by the score, three or four rhinoceroses who plunged across the stream and vanished, herd after herd of gazelle, antelope, and wildebeest, and a magnificent drove of the cow-like eland.

Lions abounded, but the other animals paid them no attention, nor did the great cats come for game; they would appear, drink, and slink away, two or three even swimming across the stream. Toward midnight a number of oryx were seen, their long, black, sword-like horns mixed with a herd of zebra. So far not a shot had been fired, but without warning von Hofe raised his little sporting rifle and fired twice.

Instantly the game was off, with a great clicking of hoofs and startled snorts. The explorer and the two boys at once picked out their animals and opened fire. To his vast delight, von Hofe's oryx bounded high and fell dead; it was found that both bullets had gone through the heart.

Schoverling put down another oryx and a zebra, whose flesh the Masai delighted in, though it was too tough for the others. Jack and Charlie each dropped an eland, Jack wounding a hartebeest which got away in the rush. An instant later, only the thunder of hoofs dying away in the distance showed what vast herds had been there.

The next day they headed by compass for the northeast, which would take them into the supposed desert country, but clear of the great Lorian swamp. Here for the first time they began to be tormented by flies—great long insects such as the boys had never seen, and which rendered fly-nets necessary to their tents at night. Had it not been for them, the tents might have remained unused, for the whites needed them little and the Indians slept in the wagons.

Once they came to an outlying village of the Samburu—a nomad people dwelling farther south. Here they found not only cattle, sheep and goats, but herds of camels, which were kept for their milk and hair alone. These villagers knew nothing of what lay beyond, save that it was desert and uninhabitable.

So, with full water-casks, a renewed store of figs, cabbage-palm tops, and other vegetables, the safari pushed into the desert, going forward day and night. Charlie, much to his surprise and disgust, found that the Masai had little need for water, drinking the blood of game instead, "to make their hearts fierce." This, however, was a great saving to their supply.

There were many hyenas scattered over the district, and these the boys shot wherever found, as they are a perfect scourge and good for nothing. The earth was sun-baked, and the explorer declared that no water had fallen here for possibly a year or more, which the boys could well believe. The game gave place to giraffes, ostriches, and a few varieties of the plains antelope, so that each day they had to circle farther from the camp to secure enough.

Day after day they pushed forward, skirting at times the edge of miasmic swamps, and generally sticking to the desolate plain. They refilled their casks at occasional water-holes, and the oxen used little water on the march. Von Hofe made no comment, until two weeks of this had passed with no sign of approaching villages or elephant country. Then, one night, he gave voice to his thoughts.



"Are you sure, Schoverling, that there is anything beyond this? It to me seems not much like elephant country."

"I'm taking a chance, Doctor," returned the dust-caked explorer. "This desert is bound to loosen up sometime, and there is surely elephant country ahead. Give us another week; then if we strike nothing I'll head around toward Lake Rudolph and the mountains."

The other nodded, and said no more. Charlie and Jack had also grown weary of the desolate surroundings, but no complaint had come from the Masai. Two days later one of the oxen died, and on the third day another, from unexplained causes. Then, on the fifth morning, a yell of delight went up from all at sight of green trees ahead.

"It's a drift," exclaimed Charlie, examining the slender line of trees as they pushed their horses on.

"What's that under those big mimosas?" called Jack. "Looks like a native hut."

"Right you are, Jack!" cried the explorer. "Come on Guru!"

They advanced at a gallop, leaving the wagons far behind. Half an hour later they came to the drift—a wide, rocky little valley through which trickled a tiny stream of water. No sign of natives appeared, however, until their horses had watered and they clambered over the stones on foot toward the single hut beneath the mimosas. Then, as Jack shouted aloud, a man appeared in the doorway, crawling toward them on hands and knees.

"The poor devil's all in," exclaimed Schoverling. "Careful, boys! He may have the plague."

"Let me go first," said the German quietly. They could see that the man, who seemed to be an Arab, was frightfully emaciated. His head was bound up, and half-healed thorn-scars covered his body. Von Hofe beckoned them to come on, as he knelt beside the poor wretch, but as the boys came to his side a startled exclamation broke from them.

For the man, just as he relapsed into unconsciousness, murmured four words.

"Help—me debbil man!"



CHAPTER X

MOWBRAY'S END

"He iss starved," exclaimed von Hofe. "See what iss in the hut. I will care for him."

Charlie, Jack and Schoverling, with a single glance of amazement at the words of the senseless Arab, advanced to the hut while the Indians clustered about von Hofe. The shelter was a crude one, of bushes and grass, built against the trunk of one of the great mimosas.

"There's a man in here!" cried Charlie as they stood in the doorway.

Before them, lying on a bed of leaves, was the figure of a man in European clothes. His head, one arm, and side were bound in blood-stained bandages. On his chest lay his right hand, still gripping a pencil, while on his knees lay an old letter, scribbled over. With a cry of pity, Schoverling knelt at the man's side—but started up again in horror.

"Good heavens!" His voice rang with a note that struck Charlie's heart. "It is Mowbray—dead!"

They pressed forward, and saw that the man was indeed dead. And Mowbray it was—his cheeks fallen in, the bandage half-concealing his face, but the iron chin locked grimly as ever in the last battle.

"Yes," said Jack softly. "He's dead, right enough. Must have passed out not long ago, though. Let's see what that letter says, Chuck."

Charlie leaned over and picked up the paper sheets. The hut was absolutely bare, save for an empty revolver that lay on the earthen floor. With a shudder the boys emerged into the sunlight again, followed by Schoverling. The wagon had not yet come up, and the doctor was standing over the Arab. He turned at their approach.

"No use, mine friends. He iss dead—was ist das? A letter?"

He peered down at the paper in Charlie's hand. Without a word the boy handed it to Schoverling. The wagons were just creeping through the first trees, toward the water, and the Indians rushed off to restrain the oxen from plunging into the stream.

"Come over here into the shade," said the explorer quietly. "Mowbray is lying in there, Doctor, dead, and seemingly pretty badly wounded. Perhaps these two sheets will throw some light on the situation."

They sat down around him beneath one of the big trees, and for a moment there was dead silence as the explorer examined the scrawled writing on the two sheets of paper and tattered envelope. Von Hofe nervously filled his pipe, nearly dropping it in the attempt.

"He seems to have written this after he got to the hut here," began the explorer. "It has no date and runs on in disconnected sentences." He paused, a catch in his voice. After a moment he went on, with no further sign of the emotion that must have possessed him.

"'Yesterday the camel died. Conscious but helpless. Arm, leg, ribs and head broken. Five days travel, to south. Zahir hurt, but managed to drag me to river and trees. I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, whence cometh—'

"That's the first of it," said the explorer. At this moment Gholab approached and saluted respectfully, his bearded face immobile. "Well, what is it?"

"Does the sahib wish to outspan here?"

"Yes. Outspan and pitch camp for to-day. And, Gholab, have two graves dug at the top of this little rise."

The Gurkha saluted and wheeled. Charlie caught an excited look from Jack, and then gave his attention to the General once more.

"'Zahir has built a hut. Could get away but refuses. No cartridges in revolver. Z. is cutting up camel. Tough but nourishing. Have hopes. If I pull out will reward Z. for life.'

"That's the second bunch of sentences, written on the envelope. The next seems to come on the back of the letter, and is addressed doubly."

The explorer swept his eye down the two dirty, torn papers, and then read slowly:

"'To Selim ben Amoud or Louis Schoverling. Whoever finds, take to them.

"'Fever for two weeks. Camel gone bad, no cartridges. Zahir-ed-din ben Yusuf has caught some mice for me and starved self. No hope left unless L. S. comes. Am weaker, and Z. has fever.

"'In watchcase is plan of Selim's. Struck east from Lake Sugota with camels. Had brush with British but shook them off. Into desert five days full speed. Country deserted. Chain of small lakes, woods, hills as indicated on plan. Deserted ruined huts, no natives. Found Lake Quilqua to south of others.'"

"What!" cried Charlie. "Is that there, General? Is it—"

"You vill keep quiet, please!" rumbled von Hofe. Charlie subsided as the General nodded. Jack said nothing, only his flushed cheeks and gleaming eyes showing his eagerness.

"'Lake fed by hot springs. Water warm, very reedy. Crossed to island fifty yards from shore. Found stronghold ruined, slave irons and neck-rings, plenty of skeletons. Evidently place was swept by plague, none escaping. Burned slave-barracoon and house. All very old—at least ten years. Slavers' stronghold explains desolated country. Natives all skipped or slaves.

"'Z. and I located big ivory cache under left gate-post. Went back to camp for men, found dying Arab. Gigantic buffalo gored him. Rest gone with camels. Big python showed up; all scared out. Found camel in trees and stayed to look around. Stories true. Shot two buffalo—suggested prehistoric type, great horns. Shot python, thirty-nine feet.

"'Guns safe. Third day found elephant spoor. Could hardly believe it. Sighted and caught him by deserted native village. Rogue, fine trophy for L. S. Biggest ever saw, must stand fourteen feet or better. Ivory twelve feet. Z. game to tackle him, next day.

"'Rogue didn't wait. Tackled us before dawn. One foot came down through tent, missed me by six inches. Rolled out and grabbed gun. Z. knocked senseless. Fired once, but rogue placed trunk around me and threw me twenty feet into bushes. Senseless.

"'Woke up to find rogue gone. Z. pulled me out of thorns and tied me up. Badly smashed. Amputated left hand at wrist. Elephant had smashed guns, with all he could find. Z. lost his nerve. Don't wonder. He caught the camel unhurt. I told him to head south to find L. S. or natives, then fainted again.

"'Don't remember much of what happened next. Z. says we rode bareback. Held me in his arms all the way. Five days. No water or grub. Camel died with river only hundred yards away, poor brute. That's all.'"

The explorer paused, trying to make out the last few lines, which seemed almost illegible. Charlie stared, gulping down a sob at the bare recital of that terrible journey. It was hard to realize that only a few weeks ago he had seen and talked with the intrepid little man who lay cold in death on his bed of leaves, and whose last words were being read to them.

"This last is pretty faint," said Schoverling with expressionless voice. "It's the last thing he wrote, and he seems to have failed at the end. Here is what I can make out of it:

"'Z. knocked over a vulture two days ago from carcass of camel. Made him take half, and he promised to go for help. Was too weak and came back. I'm pretty near gone. If you get this, L. S., go kill that rogue for me. Ivory worth while in cache. Feel cold to waist—must be going. Great news for British, eh? Thank God I've lived a decent life, according to my lights.'"

Schoverling's voice died away, and they knew he had reached the end. Without another word the explorer rose to his feet, walked a few paces and stood gazing over the river with his back toward them. Von Hofe, sucking his unlighted pipe, made no secret of the tears that trickled over his dusty blond beard. Charlie and Jack gazed at each other in awed silence, for that last letter was very vivid and very real to them both.

"He ampudaded hiss own hand—ach!" said the big German huskily, at last.

At the words, Schoverling turned and came slowly back to them, his face set and hard. Behind them the Masai were digging the graves under the direction of Akram Das, and the oxen were splashing about in the shallow silver thread of the river.

"Five days by camel—that would mean at least a week or ten days with the wagons," said the explorer quietly, looking at von Hofe. The German met the look and nodded.

"Yess. We shall do as he ordered."

"Do you mean that we are going to Lake Quilqua?" exclaimed Jack eagerly.

"We are, Jack. There is no reason why we should not bring back that rogue. He's just the fellow we're after, as—as poor Mowbray said." His voice shook a little. "If we'd only arrived a day or two sooner!"

"It can't be helped, General," returned Charlie softly. "We could not know that he was here, and we might have done no good anyhow. Those last words of his were fine."

"That letter will be framed, some day," said the explorer, "and it'll hang where every man in the Explorer's Club will be proud of it. What a fine fellow that Arab was, too! I'm heartsick to think that we failed to save him."

"It was no use," von Hofe rose to his feet calmly. "It was starvation and wounds. He was a good man, yes. My friends, we will bring that rogue's skin back, and those others. What a triumph of science!"

"That letter said something 'bout there bein' a plan in his watch-case, Gen'ral," spoke up Jack. Schoverling nodded, and turned to the hut. A moment later he came out, a smashed and bent gold watch in his hand. This they managed to pry open with a knife, and the explorer pulled out a tiny, many-folded map of onion-skin paper. The tracings were made in a brown ink, with marks that meant nothing to the boys.

"Arabic," explained Schoverling briefly. "Evidently it was supplied to Mowbray by Selim ben Amoud. From what I can make out, it is a plan of the chain of lakes Mowbray mentions. Here is one off by itself to the south, named Quilqua. Well, this does us no good. Let's get down to cases."

"One thing is sure," said Charlie as the explorer paused. "That is, that our march will lie just about due north."

"Yes. Now, Mowbray speaks of an island with a slaver's stronghold. That would account for the desolated country—that and the rogue elephant. Probably some Arab settled down there years ago and ran off slaves until he and all his men were swept out in one of the terrible and mysterious plagues that sometimes sweep this country. That would explain the rumors among the natives. Probably Selim heard the story and fancied the place might be worth finding, so went into partnership with Mowbray. The latter evidently found a good store of ivory planted away."

"I guess you've doped it out," said Charlie. "How long will we stay here, General?"

"Two days. That will give the horses and cattle a good rest. The three of us ought to bring in a lot of game, and we'll make some real northwoods pemmican to take us on. First, let's see if the Masai will go with us."

The explorer called to Bakari and the Masai leader came over grinning. Slowly they explained what lay before them, the terrors of the mysterious lake, and the desert journey, and asked if Bakari and ten of his men would accompany them. The unabashed warrior grinned.

"Me go! Him men go, very fierce. No 'fraid."

Satisfied that he had understood, Schoverling dismissed him, and turned to the boys.

"Pemmican for ten Masai and Bakari, us four, and three gun-bearers. The rest will stay here. We'll take one wagon and six oxen; they can go for two or three days without any water easily enough. We have one thing to do before we go on the hunt, though."

What this duty was all knew well enough. The body of Mowbray was brought out and sewed in the canvas of a spare tent; a small American flag belonging to Schoverling was laid over him, and he was placed in one of the graves. The faithful Zahir-ed-din was laid in the other. As the story was told the Indians, they waited till von Hofe had recited the Lord's Prayer over Mowbray, then Gholab Singh, Mohammedan like the other Gurkhas, delivered a short prayer from the Koran over the Arab, and the graves were filled in.

Charlie, Jack and the General scoured the plain that afternoon, bringing in three eland and sending the Masai out after two zebra. On their return they found that von Hofe had been at work, for over each grave stood a cross of wood, rudely carved with the name of him beneath. Oddly enough, the Mohammedans made no objection to the cross being placed over the Arab.

"He was a good man," said the big Teuton softly. "It matters not that he believed in Allah, for worse Christians I haf met, yes."

During the next day the game was cut up and smoked by Jack and Charlie, the explorer and Guru bringing in enough fresh meat to keep them for two or three days ahead. That night six of the rested oxen were inspanned to one of the wagons, loaded with water-casks and what was left of their yams and bananas. The spare Gurkha was left with his own rifle, an old Snider, to provide meat for the little camp, and as the moon rose the expedition pushed out across the river to the north—in search of Lake Quilqua and the Rogue Elephant.



CHAPTER XI

THE DESERT TREK

The rest, short as it had been, had worked wonders for the cattle. They were as fresh and sleek as ever, and the lightly loaded wagon was a small burden to them. At the last moment Schoverling had flung in the six traps.

"I have a notion," was all he would reply to the questions of the boys.

He and the boys and von Hofe rode first, the Masai tramping along to a swinging chant beside the wagon, and the three gun-bearers bringing up the rear. The oxen did not require any driving, as they followed the leaders unhesitatingly and patiently.

"I guess we've got our work cut out for us," said Charlie as the long, rolling white-dusted plain opened out before them in the moonlight. He and Jack rode together, as usual.

"Seems weird," replied Jack, "to think o' Mowbray coming across here on a camel only to die, an' us going back on the same trail. Wonder how that camel died in five days?"

"I don't know. He said it was unhurt. Prob'ly the Arab pushed it day and night at full speed. Even a camel would go down under that."

As they advanced, the dust rose in clouds about them, hanging low and choking the Indians behind until they had to come forward. Once or twice the barking call of a zebra sounded from the distance, and toward morning the distant growl of a lion, but no other signs of life came to them.

The boys had been busy all day, and they were tired enough to doze off in the saddle as they went forward, the white dust covering them all with a thick coating. Hour after hour they plodded on, at intervals wiping out the nostrils of the horses and cattle with a wet cloth by way of refreshment. Von Hofe chatted intermittently with Schoverling, who guided the march by compass, but the boys were too weary for talk.

At five o'clock they halted on the edge of a dry water-course. They had not omitted to fetch along a good supply of fodder for the cattle, which was loaded in the wagon to the very top of the tilt. The horses were given a few swallows of water each, the Masai dined on roast meat about their fires, while the four explorers and the Indians made an excellent repast on cold meat and biscuits with tea. Biscuits were Charlie's specialty, and before the start he had made a good supply, as their flour was running low.

For three hours they rested here, Schoverling and Jack keeping watch in turn. At the next halt von Hofe and Charlie would stand guard, then the three Indians. At eight the cattle were inspanned, and they plodded onward until noon, hot and choked with dust. No complaint came from the Masai, and here the second meal of the day was eaten.

The boys had thought that first march across that almost deserted grass plain was hard, but this gave them an inkling of the meaning of an African trek. They slept with heads on their saddles, the single tent they had brought along shading them somewhat. The Indians and a few Masai slept on the fodder beneath the hood of the wagon, the rest stretched out under the wagon itself.

At three they inspanned and went on again until seven, when another two hours' rest and the evening meal took place. Thus they traveled sixteen hours and rested eight, the men and cattle both getting on more easily at night than in the blazing sun.

That first afternoon nothing much occurred to interest them. Out on the dry desert scoured a few ostriches, at which the boys took distant shots but without result. In the evening they saw two giraffes lumbering across the horizon.

"Wish we had a few yoke of those fellows," said the explorer. "They can go for months without water, and seem to pick up a living from the dead grass."

"I thought camels were the only beasts who could live on air?" said Charlie in surprise. "Do you mean that giraffes absolutely require no water?"

"That is it," answered von Hofe. "It is an unexplained mystery, my friend. The giraffe, he carries no water-tank inside like the camel, yet he sweats and lives. How, is not known."

Charlie and Jack looked after the Masai, but found them dust-grimed and cheerful. The leader, Bakari, had evidently picked out the best men—all stalwart, sinewy warriors who won the respect of the boys in that terrible march by their powers of endurance and unfailing good humor.

"I don't see how they can plug along on foot that way," volunteered Jack on the third day. "By jiminy, two days of it would 'bout put me in hospital! Say, Chuck, ain't these moccasins great? If we had boots now we'd be sorry."

"You bet," nodded Charlie. "They keep the dust out pretty well. The doctor has to empty out a pound o' dust every hour. No wonder his feet are swollen up!"

Indeed, that night von Hofe made application for a pair of the spare moccasins. The dry, irritating dust made no entrance through the thick moosehide, and although the moccasins were undeniably hot, they were much better than hunting-boots. He freely admitted that in no instance had Schoverling's prophecies and ideas fallen down, and thereafter wore his moccasins until the end of the trip.

The dry, brown grass of those plains was almost hidden by the dust, but when their fodder gave out, on the fifth day, the oxen seemed to take it willingly enough. Day after day the march kept up without intermission, and fortunately the six-oxen suffered no loss. They were used to such treks, and the unremitting care of the boys kept them in good shape.

On the seventh day the supply of meat, large as it had been, began to show signs of giving out. The Masai had accepted the smoked meat willingly enough, but neither the explorer nor the boys had counted on their enormous appetites. As it would not do to halt the march, the wagon was left in charge of von Hofe, while the General, the boys, and the three gun-bearers cantered out after whatever game they could find. So far the horses had stood the strain well, being seasoned, wiry little beasts. Schoverling rode between the boys.

"I didn't want to tell the doctor," he volunteered in a low tone, when they were a good half-mile from the wagon, "and don't let on before the Indians; but we're going to be in bad unless we get across pretty soon. There are only two casks of water left. I'm afraid the Masai have been tapping them at night."

"Jumping sandhills!" exclaimed Charlie, staring in dismay. "Why, we have to use at least half a cask a day, only giving the horses and cattle a few swallows, and us too! I s'pose we'll cut out the cattle?"

"Have to," nodded the explorer. "I hate to do it, but we can't return now. I'd like to take a gun-butt to those Masai!"

"You can't blame them," put in Jack. "They've got the hardest end to bear up, Gen'ral. We've only allowed them about a pint a day each, same as us, when they've been hiking steady. It's hard lines on them, take it from me."

"We can't help that, Jack," Schoverling returned. "There's no use punishing them, of course, for they may be valuable later on. But when you're on watch, just take a look under the wagon now and then. If you find anyone at the water-casks, take the cattle-whip to him. That water means life to all of us—and we come first!"

The boys fell silent. The danger was brought home to them, as the explorer intended, and they realized the grim law of the white man in savage places—that whatever happened, whoever perished, he must survive. It is not a merciful law; Schoverling was not one of the generous-hearted kind who treat the native as an equal at such times. He was an average, self-preserving Caucasian, who was only merciless when his own life hung in the balance. The boys had been trained in the same school, and fully realized the force of his words.

"The Masai are holding up finely," he went on, "but we'll have to watch them close. At any minute they may get sick of things and try to rush us. That means trouble, which I hope will not come."

Charlie joined him silently in that hope, though from the behavior of the natives he could hardly believe that they would turn on the whites. However, the conversation was soon shifted by the discovery of a herd of giraffes to the north.

"Long range, I s'pose?" queried Jack, getting out his heavy gun. The Indians were armed with the lighter ones.

"Yes," returned the explorer. "We'll never get up on them in this territory. Fire high, when they begin to run, or we'll lose them."

The giraffes saw them plainly enough, but they got to within four hundred yards before the herd began to shift. All drew rein instantly, the trained horses standing stone still, and just as the herd took alarm and broke into their lumbering, awkward-looking gallop, the six rifles rang out.

The lighter weapons of the Indians seemed to have no effect. Charlie saw the bull at which he aimed stagger and go down. Another stopped with a broken shoulder, and Jack's second barrel finished it. Schoverling fired again, but either missed a vital place or his bullet went wide, for a moment later the herd was gone in a cloud of dust.

"Never mind," he cried gayly, reloading as they trotted forward. "Two will be all we can carry in, and will help out wonderfully. They are poor eating for us, but the Masai will be overjoyed."

Reaching the two dead giraffes, all leaped from their horses and set about cutting up the bodies. At last it was finished. Spattered with blood, the boys got the heavy loads on their quivering, blood-sniffing horses after some delay, and set about returning to the wagon.

"Where is it?" exclaimed the explorer. "Surely we can't have lost it?"

But, even with their powerful glasses, no sign could they see of the little safari. In all directions the plain stretched out dry, white, dusty, with no moving speck to break the monotony. The general cased his glasses in disgust.

"I was so interested in giving you my warning that I forgot to take any thought of our direction, and the doctor has my compass. Let's see—we've been riding about northeast."

"Here," cried Jack, pointing to the dusty plain, "there's no wind, so we can follow the tracks. It's a cinch."

"Of course," laughed the explorer, and with Jack and Charlie in the lead all six began retracing their steps. But it was not so easy to follow the trail, after the dust had settled down upon it, and it was an hour later before the white tilt of the wagon was seen, far to the southwest.

"We came more east than north, evidently," said Schoverling. "However, all's well that ends well. Don't gallop, Akram; we must go easy on the horses!"

They were soon up to the wagon and were greeted with a joyful yell by the Masai, who had no scruples about partaking of the raw meat. Knowing their tastes, the explorer had filled two or three gourds with the blood of the slain giraffes, which the natives drank greedily. The boys were disgusted, and sought refuge at the head of the column again.

That night the two remaining casks of water were shifted to the bed of the wagon, the empty casks remaining slung below. With the next evening, however, there came a joyful change in their prospects, for as they proceeded they saw that dark clouds were gathering along the horizon to the north.

"Rain!" cried the boys eagerly. Von Hofe nodded, and the Masai struck up a "rain chant" which seemed to have the desired effect. By midnight the sky was overcast, and when they outspanned the next morning for the early halt gusts of wind and rain were sweeping down upon them that gradually changed to a steady, settled rain.

"This is a great piece of good luck," exclaimed Schoverling, revealing to von Hofe for the first time how their water supply had shrunk. "Get out all the casks, boys, and let them fill. It's a bad thing for the march, however."

"Why so?" queried the doctor, as the two boys began unslinging the casks.

"Because when this soil is wet it's mighty greasy, and makes hard going for the ox-team. However, it's well worth it."

The only trees on the plain were stunted thorn-trees, but from these the Masai got enough dry wood to start a fire, after which others were started. The boys, Schoverling and the doctor huddled together in the wet grass under the tent, blankets around them and saddle-cloths over their feet, and slept comfortably enough despite the drenching rain.

When the camp wakened into action, the rain had passed over and once more the sky was bright and the air hot. But they had obtained three full casks of water, and now had little fear for the future. As the explorer had predicted, the soil was wet and greasy, but aside from getting stuck once in an old drift, they had no great trouble, and after the noon halt the sun had dried up the ground fairly well.

When they halted at sunset that night Charlie pulled out his glasses and then gave a cry of joy. Far ahead, but unmistakable, they could see green slopes and trees. Quilqua the mysterious was in sight.



CHAPTER XII

A DESERTED LAND

That night the water was not spared, and the rest of the meat was polished off in reckless fashion. After a three-hour rest, they took up the march again in renewed spirits, the Masai singing and chanting eagerly. But distances were deceptive in that country of clear vision and high altitude. When they camped at dawn after a hard march, they seemed no nearer the trees than before, and the Masai and Indians went to bed hungry, Jack making what little flour they had left into flapjacks.

By the time they camped at noon, however, the boys and Schoverling had brought in an eland, which they had found solitary. This staved off hunger, and without pausing to sleep the hunters set off again while the cattle rested. The country was well timbered farther ahead, and they rode toward this through scattered clumps of thorn-trees.

"There's a lion, right enough," said Jack, as one of the tawny beasts bounded away from a knoll to their right. "That means there's game around."

"We'll strike it in the trees," declared the General. "That seems like a good rolling game country stretching out in front."

Knowing that the doctor would bring on the wagon, they struck straight ahead for five miles. Gradually game became apparent, and after knocking over a couple of gazelles and a fine oryx, they found a waterhole. Akram Das was sent back to guide the wagon to it, and that night there was high feasting in camp.

"I'm mighty glad our cattle pulled through safe," said Schoverling. "We'll need them on the back trail."

"Yes," put in von Hofe, "they will have to draw the elephant skin and the ivory."

"Don't count too far ahead," laughed Jack. "It's not going to be any cinch! But I'd like to meet up with one of those buffalo."

"If poor Mowbray's account is true," said the General, "we'd better have the gun-bearers stick close with the heavy guns. There's no telling what we'll strike here. We'll have to keep pretty good guard, too, for lions will be apt to make a try for the cattle or horses."

Now, with the worst of the march over, they relapsed into regular day-marches again. But that night, sure enough, Charlie heard the low mutterings of a lion, and by the light of the fires could see one of the great beasts slinking past. He gave him two shots from his 30-30, and the aroused camp found only a dead lion to exult over.

The first day's march brought them to a tiny trickle of water in the center of a drift, where they outspanned. There were palms and wild figs in abundance, and with cabbage-palm hearts as a substitute their meat diet was abandoned. Game was increasing, and that night they located another drinking-place half a mile up the drift, where the boys bagged three gerenuk, a kind of gazelle, and two wildebeest.

As they went forward the next day they were all amazed at the remarkable tameness of the herds which passed on every side. A drove of at least a hundred zebra paused within fifty yards of them, gazing curiously, and not until Bakari flourished a spear did they whirl and dash away. At another time a group of slender-horned impalla bunched together not a hundred yards away, watching fearlessly as the wagon passed.

"That looks mighty queer," declared Charlie. "Seems like they don't get hunted much up here."

"Remember what that letter o' Mowbray's said?" interjected Jack quickly. "How he never met any natives, I mean? Bet a cookie you were right, General, about the slavers."

"What's worrying me," returned Schoverling, "is where that lake can be. There seems to be hills ahead, and to the right, but I can see no sign of a lake."

"I tell you," cried Charlie. "If we strike another drift, it's a good guess that it comes from a lake, isn't it?"

"Yes," rumbled von Hofe, smiling. "That is right, my boy. We will follow the next river to which we come."

Plainly enough, the country was a desert as far as human life was concerned. But the animal life was far too abundant to suit them. That day they passed a rhinoceros, standing to one side and watching them from a distance of fifty yards. With his ears cocked forward he looked like a gigantic pig, but the hunters kept their heavy rifles cocked, for at any moment the beast might take it into his head to charge, and they had had one experience with these huge beasts.

"He's two-horned!" exclaimed Jack, watching intently. It was their first meeting with one of the two-horned variety, and they were relieved when he turned and slowly trotted off, the tick-birds on his back settling down again.

That night Schoverling issued orders that with each halt the Masai should construct a thorn zareba for the oxen, while big fires should be kept blazing all night. Lions were very plainly in abundance, and they could afford to run no risk of losing the cattle, or horses either.

Toward dawn they were aroused by Guru, on guard, to find the horses shivering with fear and the glowing eyes of lions shining from the undergrowth around the camp. A shot seemed to have no effect, until with a well-placed bullet Schoverling killed one of the beasts and the rest disappeared with threatening rumbles.

"That shows what we can expect, in this no-man's country," he said. "We'll have worse than that later on, I'm afraid."

And his words were to prove true, though not exactly as he had intended, before two days more had passed.

Shortly before noon they came upon lower ground, with the high hills rising some ten miles farther on. A stream trickled through beds of reeds and swamp-grass, and it was decided that they should follow the high ground upstream, in the hope of being thus led to their hard-sought goal.

Schoverling and Charlie employed the shotgun in turn, shooting from their horses, and stocking the whole camp with wildfowl. The Masai had spread out in great glee, investigating this strange land like children, when a sudden yell of horror went up from one of them.

Turning as the doctor echoed the shout, those ahead were horrified to see a tremendous python curled about the struggling warrior, at the very edge of the reeds twenty yards away. The huge head of the snake was high—at least six feet above that of the warrior, about whom its coils were tightening slowly. The Masai, with horrible yells, was slashing away without effect, and even as they looked his arms were bound about and fell useless.

"Good heavens!" groaned Schoverling, who had left his rifle in the wagon. The Indians spurred forward with outstretched guns, but in that moment von Hofe proved himself cooler than any. The boys had been afraid to fire, but even as Charlie and Jack threw up their guns the little rifle of the doctor spoke out once and then again.

Struck in the neck by both balls, the python's head drooped and his coils broke away. In a flash the Masai wriggled loose and turned, sword in hand, while his comrades dashed fearlessly to his rescue. For a moment there was a wild turmoil of bodies; one of the warriors was flung a dozen feet away by the slashing tail, then the python fell, cut into a score of pieces.

The exciting combat was begun and over in a moment. Charlie dashed to the side of the men, but it proved that neither of the Masai had been seriously hurt. The first had suffered merely from a vigorous squeeze, the second had the breath knocked out of him, so no attention was paid to the injuries. Measured carefully, the python proved to be thirty feet in length.

"Things look pretty grave," said Schoverling soberly that evening when they were in camp farther up the stream, but well away from the reeds. "Mowbray's forty-foot python was no dream, my friends. We must keep our rifles in the holsters and at our hands night and day in this country."

"The Masai behaved splendidly," exclaimed Charlie admiringly. "Where are you going?" he asked as the General arose.

"Show you in a minute. Guru!"

The explorer had joined the Sikh at the wagon. There was a rattle of chains, and with the steel traps in their hands the two returned to the fire.

"Now, Guru, we are going to set out these traps around the camp. After this you and Akram and Amir Ali will have to do it, so observe us closely."

"Oh, that's what you wanted them for, eh?" cried Jack. Schoverling smiled.

"Not exactly, but they're going to be a whole lot of help. My idea is, Doctor, that if we set these out around the camp they will keep us from being surprised to some extent. They won't stop a lion or buffalo, of course, but they will serve to check them or any other big game."

"It is good," nodded von Hofe gravely. "I think it will be of much use. I will go too."

The boys cut heavy stakes with their hand-axes, and all six of the traps were fastened securely. Then, accompanied by the Indians, they placed the traps in a wide circle on each side of the zareba, the most threatened point of attack. When the stakes were driven, the jaws of the traps were opened and light creepers flung over them.

"By golly, that'll make me sleep a whole lot sounder!" admitted Charlie when they returned. Jack was disposed to turn up his nose at the unbaited traps.

"Any fool jackal would smell 'em," he declared emphatically. "Why, you can see them glint in the moonlight!"

"No matter," smiled the explorer. "We don't want to catch anything in them—they're only there to keep us from being surprised."

That very night the traps proved their value, for while Jack was on guard he was roused by the click of steel, a tremendous snarling growl, and the sound of a furious struggle. The whole camp was up instantly, and by the light of the natives torches they could see a lioness rolling over, tearing furiously at a trap which clenched her two forepaws.

A moment later she tore free, but Jack's elephant-gun crashed out and she lay still. The trap was promptly restaked and reset, while the Masai dragged the body away. And after that, Jack said nothing more on the question of unbaited traps.

They were now in a veritable hunter's paradise. It was unnecessary for Schoverling and the boys to shoot game, for the Masai could spear all that was needed without trouble, two or three of them going up-wind and driving the game past the hiding-place of the rest. The next morning they were off with the dawn, in high hopes of reaching the lake, for the water in the stream seemed warmer than usual, though the explorer laid this to imagination.

The country was open enough for the wagon to proceed without hindrance at a little way from the vegetation of the river. In the course of the morning Charlie descried what looked like grass huts ahead, but as they did not dare leave the wagon it was nearly noon before they came up to the little village.

"Deserted, of course," exclaimed the General when they drew near.

"Old and broken down, too," added Jack. "They're pretty well covered with vines and creepers, and that hut over on the left is a—why, all those mounds are old huts, General!"

Sure enough, at close quarters they saw that scores of little mounds scattered around had once been huts, fallen to pieces under the attacks of animals and the weather. The few that were standing had been somewhat preserved by the shelter of spreading juniper trees overhead, and young bamboos had sprouted around and inside, thus serving to keep them in shape.

"Pretty rotten," said Charlie, poking one with his rifle. The grass and twigs fell at the touch. "They've been deserted for years. But look over there—that used to be a yam patch, and I'll bet a dollar—"

Without finishing he flung himself from the saddle and ran to an overgrown stretch of ground, where his quick eye had detected a few yams growing wild, with a variety of squash. Most of them were trampled or eaten by animals, but they managed to collect a dozen of each, which would give a welcome variety of food.

"General!" called out Jack, fifty yards away.

"Come over here, all of you."

He was standing over something on the ground, at the edge of the forest. When the others arrived, he pointed to an immense buffalo track in the soft ground.

"There's your giant bull," he said triumphantly. "This is no place for us, I guess."

"I should say not!" cried Schoverling. "What a brute that fellow must be! Ever see as big a track, Doctor?"

"Never," and the German wagged his great beard, with a dubious glance around. "Come, let us go on. Ach, what a country is this!"

An hour later they outspanned for the noon halt. By some subtle warning, Schoverling led them away from the river to a little bare mound crowned by a single spreading mimosa, around which the oxen were grouped. Below on one side, stretched the jungle. On the other, tall grass, reeds and undergrowth led away to the river. And on that little eminence the expedition all but came to grievous wreck.



CHAPTER XIII

A DESPERATE BATTLE

Fortunately for the entire party, the bandoliers were filled that noon with the heavy cordite bullets, for Schoverling advised all to carry their heavy guns. Guru, Akram Das and Amir Ali carried the 30-30s, while von Hofe broke out a box of shells for the shotgun, as he wished to get a specimen of a peculiar crane he had seen that morning in the river, and refused to let the others shoot it for him.

"Nein," he objected determinedly. "I shoot my own specimens, thanks, for it is good to say, 'Shot and mounted by Gross von Hofe.' I can shoot when I wish."

"I should say you can," laughed Charlie. "You sure nipped that big snake in the right place, Doctor! I never saw any better shooting."

"You let the doctor alone," chuckled Schoverling. "He knows his business better than any of us. Give him an elephant gun, if he wants it!"

The big Teuton smiled broadly through his blond beard, for the praise was dear to his honest heart. While they sat and rested, Gholab Singh washed the tin dishes, humming one of his native songs. Jack's quick eye caught a movement in the bushes toward the river, and as he jumped up a big boar came running out.

"Knock him over," suggested Schoverling lazily. "But we'll have to cut him up and cook him ourselves."

Jack agreed, as the boar trotted across the open space, followed by another. Catching up his 30-30, which lay with the other guns close at hand, he put a shot through the brain of the second animal. Charlie joined him and they ran out to bring in the body, as the Sikh was the only Indian who would touch pig's flesh.

"Say, Jack," exclaimed Charlie as they bent over the boar, "didn't it strike you queer that they'd run out that way? 'Most as if somethin' was after 'em."

"Right," and Jack sprang to his feet. Looking closely, they could see the tops of the twenty-foot reeds along the river-bank shaking heavily and slowly, as if massive bodies were advancing. "Maybe it's a rhino, Chuck. He wouldn't bother us—hello! What's up?"

A chorus of shrill yells from the Masai above startled them. Glancing up, they saw Schoverling and the gun-bearers catching up their weapons, while the natives were leading the cattle away from the wagon, the inspanning having already begun for the march. They saw Gholab Singh catch up the little rifle belonging to von Hofe.

"Jumpin' sandhills!" began Charlie in wonder. "What on earth—"

"Get up here!" roared the General at them. "Boys! Quick!"

Without pausing to inquire further the boys jumped for the camp. A moment later they stood gazing around in amazement, inquiring what was wrong. For answer the explorer pointed to the river below. The boys whirled, then a single cry burst from their lips and they stood astounded, unable to believe their eyes.

"Ach, himmel! Vot a sight!" broke from the doctor.

There, bending down the tough reeds like grass, a mighty herd of buffalo was coming slowly forward, the first two or three just emerging into the clearing. All together, there must have been sixty or seventy of them—but what buffalo they were!

Great, shaggy fellows, nearly a third larger than those the boys had seen and shot during the first part of the trip, they seemed like some part of a wild dream. It flashed through Charlie's mind that it must have been such buffalo as this that Mowbray had seen, or rather, that had scattered his Arabs.

Slowly the great mass pushed forward, heads upturned. Plainly they had scented the camp, for they were down-wind, and intended to investigate. Both boys realized that they were in grave danger, as this became apparent.

"Think they'll dare to charge us?" murmured Charlie, a little pale.

"Can't tell," returned the explorer, staring. "Great Scott, what animals! No wonder Mowbray's men lit out for safety! If they come on, we're goners."

That they plainly meant to come on was soon evident. The foremost paused to sniff and paw the body of the slain boar, and to gaze up at the waiting men, then those crowding behind shoved them onward. Two or three went on to one side, but the others began the ascent of the little hill without hesitation.

"We'll have to stop them," said Schoverling, his face set. Charlie looked around to find Jack at his elbow, gun ready, black eyes glittering, and cheeks flushed darkly. Behind were grouped the Indian gun-bearers, fully recognizing the danger. The Masai, chattering but with arrow on the string, stood near the wagon.

"Bakari!" called the explorer quickly. At the sound of his voice the giant buffalo halted for a moment, and the boys yelled in hope that they would retire. But the hope proved groundless, as they came forward with slow steps again.

"Bakari, put some of your men up into that tree—keep those bulls away from the wagon and oxen at all costs," ordered the General. The Masai nodded, and a moment later five of his men went up nimbly into the big mimosa, and threaded their way out along the branches until they stood over the heads of the boys. The wagon and oxen were twenty feet behind, and the remaining natives grouped before them.

"All right, boys," said Schoverling quietly. "Don't fire at the head, remember, unless you are sure of the eye. We've got to stop them at once."

Charlie and Jack lifted their guns. The tremendous beasts were a scant fifty yards below, but more were crowding up from the reeds every instant. The four white men spread out at intervals of a few yards, the gun-bearers between. Von Hofe, shotgun in hand, stood on the long wagon-tongue with Gholab Singh.

The three heavy Hammonds rang out with a crash. Charlie's bull went down, as did two more, and a wild bellow of fury went up from the entire herd. Instantly the second barrels streamed forth their deadly cordite, and a mass of kicking, struggling animals lay below them, while from the Masai streamed forth spears and arrows.

"Hope that holds them," said Schoverling, as they reloaded rapidly. The gun-bearers, as good gun-bearers should, had not yet fired but stood waiting till the last extremity.

"By golly!" yelled Jack, bringing up his rifle hurriedly. Instead of being intimidated, the shots and powder-reek seemed to render the herd more furious yet. Loud snortings, swishing tails and pawing hoofs testified to their rage, and the bodies of the slain were trampled into a bloody mass as the herd swept on.

Down went the foremost again, impeding those behind, and Schoverling nodded to the Indians as he reloaded. The 30-30s spoke out, each of the old soldiers wasting not a shot, but firing the five cartridges in his magazine slowly and methodically. The scene below was terrible, and the wild yells of the Masai rose high over the snorting and bellowing. But great as was the slaughter, the immense herd poured up bodily, until they were but thirty yards down the hill, the bodies of the killed trampled underfoot, those behind pressing the others forward in mad rage.

Now there was no let-up. Charlie loaded and fired as fast as he was able, as did Jack and the rest. Another volley from the Indians helped, and from the wagon von Hofe scattered bird-shot wildly, but Gholab's little rifle-ball picked more than one bull neatly through the eye to the brain.

From above the Masai streamed down their arrows into the backs of the giant brutes, until the wounded ones turned and lashed out at their fellows. Shot after shot poured down into the crowded mass of buffalo, and a moment later Charlie knew that the fight was all but won. Those in the van had gone down, those behind were rearing and trampling, fighting each other in desperate confusion, forgetting what lay ahead.

Suddenly a yell of terror from behind startled Charlie and he saw Jack whirl with a shout. While they had been fighting the foe in front, a single bull, led perhaps by some instinct, had quietly ascended the hill from the rear and was shaking his head angrily at Bakari and his remaining five men.

As the boys turned, the Masai unhesitatingly poured spears at him, and with a bellow of pain he charged them. They faced him gallantly, but before Jack or Charlie could fire, one went high in air and another was trampled under foot. Gholab leaped from the wagon with his small rifle, and sprang forward; but, taking a desperate chance, Jack had fired at the brute's shoulder. The buffalo turned and made for the little party, and as he did so Gholab Singh shot him through the eye at ten yards.

A yell of delight from Guru drew Charlie back to the front. Here it was evident that the buffalo were retiring, only two solitary bulls charging through the bloody, tangled mass of hoofs and horns. One of these the General dropped, and Amir Ali attended to the other. A moment later the herd drew away, sullenly and fighting among themselves still, to the shelter of the reeds, where the snortings and bellowings gradually died away in the distance.

With the lifting of the terrific strain, Charlie staggered and caught Schoverling's arm, while Jack sank down beside him with drawn face. Guru and his comrades leaped down the hill to kill the wounded, kicking bulls.

"There, boys, you take it easy," said the explorer, his voice just a trifle shaken. "That was pretty bad for a minute, but we pulled out all right."

"Better see to the Masai," said Charlie faintly.

Schoverling looked up, noting for the first time the slain bull by the wagon. The boys watched him leap to the side of von Hofe, who was kneeling over the injured men.

"I've had about enough of this country," grunted Charlie, rising shakily as his weakness passed. "Feel better?"

"Some." Jack, also unsteady under the reaction of their great mental and physical strain, got to his feet. "It was a tight squeeze, old chap!"

"You bet. Let's see how bad the men were hurt."

They joined the group. The gored man had an ugly wound in his side. The other had hung to the horns of the buffalo, and beyond a slash in the arm and a few broken ribs, was in no serious danger. The two were placed in the wagon, where the doctor gave them much needed attention.

"I'm going to get away from here," said the explorer. "Bakari, you did nobly! Gholab, Guru, and the rest of you, I can only say that I am proud of you—more proud than ever. Shake hands!"

Smiling broadly, the bearded Indians obeyed, after which the boys shook hands also.

"It was good work, sahib," declared the Sikh gravely. "We are men, all of us. Such a fight will make great telling when we get back!"

Von Hofe received his full share of the praise, for his bird-shot had contributed no little to the rout of the giant buffaloes. He, however, was already busy with his camera, and only the assurance of Schoverling that they could get a skin at another time got him to his horse. Half an hour later they were away from the scene of the battle, to which the kites and vultures were already flocking through the sky.

"We won't go far," announced the leader. "I don't mind confessing that I'm pretty badly shaken up and want to rest for the remainder of the day. We got out of that scrape almighty well, boys, if you want to know it!"

"Guess we did," returned Charlie with an uneasy glance around. "I won't forget that for many a long day! If the Indians hadn't stood by us—"

He did not need to finish, and the explorer nodded. Two miles farther on, and a mile from the river; they halted beside a little creek. They had learned the value of a big tree, and the oxen were outspanned around a spreading fig-tree of gigantic size. The Masai built a zareba around, and for the rest of the afternoon they stayed quietly recuperating from the terrible exertions of that battle. In the evening great fires were built and the traps set out again.

Nothing disturbed them that night. They slept in their blankets under the shelter of the giant tree, but as they rolled up—von Hofe being on guard for the first three hours—Jack whispered to Charlie.

"If we struck a herd of them fellows while we were down on low ground—good-bye!"

"You shut up and go to sleep," retorted Charlie. "Every time I close my eyes I think of those tossin' heads. I don't want to dream about them."

"Bet a cookie you will," chuckled Jack. "Remember how their eyes rolled, and the first ones we shot got all trampled out of shape, and—"

Charlie reached over with a mimosa thorn and ended the discussion suddenly. But, nevertheless, his dreams that night were none too pleasant, and he woke more than once, almost feeling a herd of those giant buffaloes grinding him beneath their hoofs.



CHAPTER XIV

THE LAKE OF MYSTERY

"This stream must be the outlet of the warm lake, all right," said Schoverling the next morning as they sat at breakfast. "There seems to be low hills ahead of us, but I think the wagon can get along."

"Yes," announced the doctor. "The hot lake must be of volcanic origin, a very long time ago. These things one meets with often in Africa. I must shoot one of those big buffalo, please."

"Then you'd better take my heavy gun," offered Charlie. "I've shot all of 'em I care to." The doctor's white teeth flashed, as he nodded.

"If it was anywhere else we could ride ahead and pick out a road," said Jack. "But we wouldn't dare leave the wagon here."

"Not much," laughed Schoverling. "If we'd been gone yesterday we'd have had to settle down here for life. Well, let's inspan."

"Let's see that plan of Mowbray's—the Arabic one," said Charlie. The explorer found it and tossed it over. The two boys pored over the rudely-drawn chart while the oxen were being inspanned.

"This must be the river we're on," and Jack pointed to the line of a stream flowing to the south and west of a small lake. "Why couldn't we—"

"Hey, General!" called Charlie. "Come back here a minute!" The explorer, who was filling his bandolier, came over to their side, and Charlie pointed to the stream. "This river seems to run west out of the lake, and then turn south. Now, she's running north and south right here, isn't she?" The explorer, glancing at his compass, nodded. "Then instead of keeping close to the stream, why couldn't we strike off northeast and head straight for the lake? The river only leads us every which way."

"Good idea," exclaimed the General. "I had forgotten all about that map, to tell the truth. The only question is whether we can depend on it."

"That fellow Selim," put in the interested doctor, "was a man of brains, my friends. He would not send his camels and partner where he did not know. There is too much game beside this river, also. I like it not."

"Very well," said Schoverling. "Then we will simply cut around those hills ahead and march by compass. No lack o' water here, fortunately."

So, much to the relief of the boys, they left the dangerous vicinity of the river and struck across country. Except on the very banks of the stream there was no jungle, but open and well-wooded country that seemed well able to support a population of natives, had there been any to support. An hour after inspanning they came to another and larger village, which had fallen to decay as had the first. Monkeys were everywhere, grinning and chattering among the ruined huts, and in the center of the old village, fastened to a still sturdy post, they came upon a pair of heavy iron hand-cuffs, which were simply a mass of rust.

"There's an indication of the slave-trade," and Schoverling pointed. "Probably a refractory slave was tied up there and whipped. I suppose those Arabs found this a thickly populated, happy country and simply made a clean sweep, men, women and children. Those that weren't killed or carried off north no doubt perished miserably in the wilderness. Poor devils! It's a tremendously good thing for Africa that the British put down the slave-trade."

"If they'd only conserved their resources," declared von Hofe, "they might be running out slaves yet. But it was more than slavers, my friend." He had advanced to the door of a hut and now drew back. "It is not a good place to stay. There are skeletons—perhaps of the plague."

"That's more like it," exclaimed Charlie, as they rode on. "Mowbray said that he had found the Arab place plague-swept, and had burned the whole thing, prob'ly for fear of infection. That would account for the absence of human life a whole lot better than by laying it all on the slavers."

There was another thought running through Charlie's head, however—something of which no one had yet spoken openly. He wondered if Schoverling had paid any attention to Mowbray's narrative of the big cache of ivory "underneath the left gate-post." He had been long enough in Africa to know the tremendous value of tusks, and resolved to talk things over with Jack at the first opportunity. Von Hofe, meanwhile, had been thinking along more practical lines.

"If we had a large party, Schoverling, and plenty of time, we could make money," he announced suddenly, and pointed to the hills on their left. "Those hills must be of old volcanoes. Why should the Arabs have come so far to settle here in a terrible land? Not for slaves or ivory alone. No. In these lakes and rivers there is gold."

"What!" exclaimed the explorer sharply. Then, more slowly, "I shouldn't wonder if you're right, Doctor. I'd like to take a little trip with a washing-pan up through there! If that is so, as it well might be, there'd be some rich pickings for the taking. However, we're here for elephant first and last, and I'm not inclined to linger with this outfit."

This excited the boys hugely, but both realized that on this expedition there would be small opportunity for any gold-hunting, even if the supposition should prove to be true. The sight of that big python and the giant buffalo had been a good indication of what they might expect if they lingered long hereabouts, and the fate of Mowbray's expedition was vivid in their minds still.

The day passed with no exciting feature, as all kept close to the slow advance of the cattle and wagon. The Masai spread out fearlessly enough, and brought in enough game for the party. That terrific battle with the herd of buffalo had made great inroads on their stock of ammunition, and the explorer cautioned them not to waste a shot in useless hunting.

No sign of the expected lake appeared during the afternoon, and in the evening they camped in a little valley between two kopjes, beside a waterhole that welled out and sank again almost immediately into the thirsty earth.

"We'll need those traps here, I guess," declared Charlie when the outspanning was going on. "Prob'ly every one of these water-holes is pretty well frequented by animals, so we can look out for visitors. Who's on guard to-night?"

"You are," chuckled Jack; "You and your friend Amir Ali. So mind you don't go asleep on duty, Chuck! I'd hate to wake up in the morning and find one of your moccasins left around to remember you by."

"Never you mind about me," retorted Charlie. "I never woke up the whole camp by letting go an elephant gun at a jackal."

This reminder of an earlier episode in the trip silenced Jack for the time being, but Charlie had no intention of letting himself be caught napping on duty. His watch lasted till midnight, when Amir would relieve him, and as there was no moon the boys got in a plentiful supply of wood for the fire. While the Indians were setting out the traps as usual, von Hofe departed to inspect the injured men, and Charlie seized the opportunity.

"Say, General, what about that ivory cache of Mowbray's? Think we can lug it off with us?"

The explorer remained silent for a moment, the boys watching him eagerly.

"Look here, you chaps," he said at last, "there were two words in that letter I didn't read. Mowbray said 'ivory—and dust!' I was afraid you might get the gold fever, but I guess you're pretty safe. I was talking to von Hofe about it yesterday. Now, you know that we're paid by him to get elephant and nothing else. Still, the old boy is a sport clear through, and underneath his German reserve he's just as eager as any of us. If we strike the island before we strike the elephant, we'll camp on it for safety and clear out the cache."

"Hurray!" exclaimed Charlie. "Bully for him! Say, we'll—"

"You wait, Chuck," interrupted Jack quickly. "Look here, Gen'ral, it ain't so simple. Those Arabs with the camels got clear away. Selim ben Amoud ain't a man to let Mowbray stick alone down here, not by a jugfull. I'll bet you that we'll find a bunch of Selim's men there with Selim himself. He was no slouch, that guy."

Schoverling's face clouded. "You've struck the nail on the head, Jack. That thought occurred to me also. Well, if he's there then we'll have to keep away and stick to the rogue. But if we get there first—by thunder, I'll load that cache into the wagon and get out with the elephant!"

"Still, in a way it belongs to him—" began Charlie, but the explorer grunted.

"Rot! His expedition lost out. Mowbray directed his letter to me or Selim, and said nothing about splitting up. Whoever gets there first lands the loot, that's flat. If it belonged to anyone, it belonged to the original bunch of slavers. However, we're counting our chickens a long while before the incubator's opened. When we get there it's time enough."

To this there was no answer. That night, sure enough, Charlie was glad that he had kept the big fires blazing high, for herds crowded about in vain endeavors to get at the water-hole, even pressing up to the thorn zareba, until the boy had to scatter burning brands among the quantities of eland and antelope and zebra, not wishing to shoot them. Two of the steel traps caught, however; one a slinking jackal and the other a fine oryx, both of which Charlie reluctantly shot with the small rifle belonging to the doctor.

In the morning Amir Ali reported that lions had been about, but they had made no disturbance, and the safari took up its advance soon after sun-up. At the noon halt they were still winding through the valley, but in the afternoon this opened out into open country once more. Jack had his glasses out and gave a yell of delight.

"There's the lake! Dead ahead!"

Even without the aid of glasses they could all see the shimmer of water in the sun, three miles ahead. The Masai gave a yell of joy at the news that they had nearly reached the end of their journey, but they could not hope to get up to the lake until evening with the slow-moving oxen. So, leaving the doctor and the Indians to defend the wagon if need were, Schoverling and his two assistants rode slowly onward to have a look at things and pick out a suitable place for the night's camp.

In half an hour they were standing on a slight rise that sloped down gently to the waters of the lake. These were thickly cloaked with reeds, but there was no sign of the high jets of hot water of Selim's story on the Mombasa.

"See that steam up at the other end of the lake?" said Schoverling, looking through his glasses. "That's where the hot springs are, no doubt."

"There's the island," cried Jack excitedly, who had moved a hundred feet away. Joining him, the others were now able to see a low island which had been hidden by intervening trees. It lay barely half a mile beyond them, and seemed almost a part of the shore. Beyond this the trees seemed to get thicker, while across the lake itself the green and brown hills rose to the height of a few hundred feet. In fact, hills seemed to be all around them, save to the south.

"Shouldn't wonder if this was one of the craters of an old volcano," declared the General.

"The ground has risen slightly, since we left the wagon, and those hills all around would indicate such a thing, as would the steaming hot springs up at the other end. Well, we can ride forward to the island. Mowbray's camp must be there somewhere."

Keeping a wary eye open for any danger, they rode on until they arrived opposite the island. Here, under a group of spreading mimosas, they saw vague signs of an old camp. All was overgrown with vegetation, but as they rode down to it the indications of a camp were clear.

"There are tattered old tents, all right," exclaimed Charlie in huge excitement. "But animals and the weather have covered things up pretty well."

Arriving on the spot, they leaped from their saddles and kicked away vines.

"Here's a gun-butt," shouted Jack, holding up a moulded fragment of wood. "And here's the rest of it—an elephant gun."

Schoverling took the pieces and fitted them together. The barrels were twisted and bent, the stock splintered. Rubbing the latter clear of mould, something gleamed in the sun and he uttered an exclamation.

"Mowbray's! Got his name on a silver plate. Well, that's worth keeping as a trophy, boys. Now about camp. This was a mighty poor place for him to land, but he wasn't expecting overgrown buffalo and pythons. There's a little rise behind, where we can camp for to-night, but to-morrow we'll try to get across to the island. That will be a whole lot safer from his majesty the rogue."

"Jumping sandhills, I forgot!" cried Charlie suddenly. "Say, General, we've beat the Arabs back, that's a cinch!"



CHAPTER XV

"UNDER THE LEFT GATE-POST"

They made a brief examination of the ground for any sign of elephant spoor, but were relieved to find that there was nothing to indicate a recent visitation from the rogue to the scene of his exploits.

"Hold on," cried Charlie as they remounted. "Something's wrong!"

The faint sound of gun-shots drifted to them against the wind, and as the safari was out of sight behind the clusters of trees, all three urged their horses into a gallop, grave anxiety in their hearts. With rifles ready, they galloped on to find the wagon stuck hard and fast in a rocky drift, while at one side lay the huge body of a rhinoceros.

"All is well, sahib," saluted Gholab Singh, beaming. Von Hofe grinned through his beard.

"The rhino wished to inspect us, Schoverling, but the boys soon finished him off. We'll have to work to get out of this, I fear."

Congratulating the four gun-bearers, all placed themselves at the wheels of the wagon, while Schoverling went to the heads of the cattle. After twenty minutes of hard work they got the wagon across the drift and onto better ground.

They told of finding the camp abandoned by Mowbray, and the General showed the fragments of the broken elephant-gun. This was a visible sign that the rogue elephant was indeed to be feared, and the doctor brightened up and rubbed his hands.

"Ach, he must be wonderful! Let us push on, please!"

They camped that night on the little hill that sloped down to the lake, just opposite the island. None knew what danger might lurk in the reeds, and as these seemed to be dry above the level of the water, with the wind off-shore, they sent the Masai ahead to fire them while the others waited with rifles ready.

The reeds blazed up quickly for a width of a hundred feet, beyond which they managed to keep the fire under control, for had it spread to the country behind it would have worked sad havoc with animal life. Gradually the smoke died down without anything having happened. But a moment later there was a rustling of the reeds and grass off to the right, and a cry broke from the Masai as a tremendous python swept toward them.

The heavy guns roared out instantly. With its head blown to pieces, the huge snake lashed around for a few moments and then lay still. When they advanced to measure it the boys could hardly believe their senses. The python was a good forty feet in length, and while the excited Masai danced around, von Hofe took photographs eagerly.

"We'll get over to that island to-morrow." Schoverling peered through his glasses as the sun sank below the hills. "No trees on it, but you can make out the ruins of the place that Mowbray burned. We'll have to make sure the oxen can get across that thirty yards of water, too."

Von Hofe and Gholab Singh were on guard that night, but the dawn came without any disturbance. The first move was to make sure that the cattle and wagon could get across the strip of water to the island; if not, then all their plans would have to be changed. Fortunately, they had met with no crocodiles in the country.

Schoverling and the boys, right after breakfast, rode down to the shore. The burned patch of reeds had left the lake clear before them, and as they urged the reluctant horses down into the water, they were gratified to find that it was shallow—at the deepest part there was only three feet of water. Without returning, they shouted to Gholab to lead on, for the bottom was sandy and strewn, with small rocks.

On these one of the oxen went down, but without injury. With the Masai tugging at the wheels to help, the wagon soon rolled up on the shore where the three were waiting, and they turned to look ahead. The island seemed bare of trees, which fact was explained later; only thorn-bushes clustered around them, the ground gently rising.

"There's the stronghold Mowbray talked about," exclaimed Charlie as they urged their horses to the crest of the little rise on the bank. Ahead of them lay the ruins of a burned building, black and desolate. Others could be seen behind, while around the first was a ring of half-burned stakes that had at one time formed a strong palisade of heavy timbers.

"We'd better keep out o' there," said Schoverling. "Here's a good place for the outspanning, just at the bank. Bakari, better get a thorn fence up right away. There's no telling what's liable to happen here, and we can command the shore at all events."

"Why can't we take a look around inside?" queried Jack, somewhat puzzled. "There's no sign of any animals around."

"Plague," returned the explorer briefly. "First thing we do, we must go back and get in some game. The Masai only got one impalla buck yesterday, and we can't run short on grub."

With no disappointment the boys gazed over the blackened ruins before them. At one time these must have formed a stronghold indeed. Signs of a "corduroy" road for wagons led down to the water; a clear spring bubbled out cold and refreshing from inside the compound and ran on past their camping-place; and the sturdy palisade had resisted even the fire. Charlie looked regretfully at the huge gate-posts, each nearly three feet thick and planted solidly in the ground.

"Well, the sooner we do the shooting the sooner we can dig," he sighed, and turned to the horses. The three gun-bearers had old Snider rifles of their own, which so far had not come into use, and these they left with the doctor and Gholab, carrying the 30-30s as had been their custom during the march.

It was still an hour before noon, and by midday they had shot two impalla, which with four hartebeest made up all the game they could carry back. No signs of danger were seen on that short excursion, although once a lion broke cover and trotted away ahead of them. The boys could see no sign of elephant with their glasses.

"He's around," laughed Schoverling to their expressions of doubt. "An old rogue will stay hidden away until he makes up his mind to wipe the earth with whomever's around. When we get ready to go after him, you'll have your hands full." Which statement later turned into a very true prophecy.

They rode back to camp to find the zareba done, and von Hofe standing before the charred gate-posts, hands on hips. He turned at their laughter and smiled.