"But yes," he retorted to their jokes as they surrounded him, "I too have the treasure-hunt fever got! Yet is there one question which puzzles me, my friends!"

"What's that?" laughed Charlie.

"The letter said 'under the left gate post.' Now, when you face the burned buildings here, this one is the left; but when you turn around, it becomes the right!"

"Well, we'll tackle that one first," smiled the explorer. "But we'll have to satisfy Gholab before we do anything else. Impalla steak would taste pretty good right now, to me."

None the less, the boys were too hungry to do much speculating over the treasure, eager though they were. Half an hour later, over their tea, a council was held as to just how to get at the cache. Spades they had none, and the spears and swords of the Masai were not fitted for digging.

"Listen," said Jack impatiently. "Mowbray said he located the cache, didn't he? Well, at best, he had only a few hours over here. When he burned down the place the smoke kept him from knowing that his Arabs had lit out. That stands to reason. He didn't have time to dig around; he knew right where that stuff was hid, and he went for it. If he found it, the earth would still be pretty loose where he dug."

"I've got a better scheme than digging," put in Charlie, his eyes gleaming. "Hitch up the cattle to the posts an' pull 'em out."

"Good!" shouted Schoverling. "We're behind the times on thoughts, Doctor! Gholab, inspan the cattle over by those posts."

Ten minutes later the oxen were standing ready, while the explorer and the boys made the ox-chains fast to one of the heavy posts. Slowly the oxen forged ahead, but to their dismay the post broke off short.

"That's a pretty good sign that the earth is unmoved," declared Schoverling cheerfully. "Now for the other one."

Once more the oxen were inspanned to the other post, and walked off at the yells of the Indians. This time a shout went up from all, for the huge post had been ripped out of the earth bodily, leaving a cavity exposed. Charlie leaped down at once, feeling around.

"More logs down here," he cried. "We'll have to throw out the dirt after all."

Instantly Jack was at his side, with two of the broad-bladed Masai knives. There was but room for one to work, but with Jack above and Charlie below the dirt began to fly at a great rate. The two boys were soon plastered with sandy mud. Then came a shout from Charlie, who was buried to his eyes.

"Catch hold, up there!"

Something rose above the ground, and Schoverling and Jack caught it, while the doctor peered down. No sooner had the explorer caught the long object than he gave a cry.

"Those aren't logs, Chuck! They're tusks—wrapped up for carriage!"

A moment later the hole had been enlarged in the sandy soil enough to let Jack leap down to his chum's aid. One by one the tusks were passed back to the Indians and Masai, who grouped them in a pile with much wondering chatter.

"Reg'lar cave down here," came the muffled voice of Jack. "All ready?"

"All ready," and more tusks came up. A moment later the dirt-smeared, excited face of Charlie appeared, and he clambered out, followed after by the figure of Jack.

"That's all, General. Hurray!"

"All!" echoed Schoverling. "Sure there's nothing else? Here, let me get down there."

For the first time Charlie remembered the gold-dust. But although the explorer poked around in the cave-like hole beneath with one of the Masai knives, he finally had to climb up with the admission that the boys had been right. There was no gold-dust.

For a few moments they stood around the huge pile of tusks, while von Hofe counted them. All were wrapped securely in canvas, mouldy and rotted away with the damp of the ground. Charlie tore at one and it came loose in his fingers.

"Thirty-two," announced the big German excitedly. "They vas all goot, but none fery large, too. Ach, vat a pile of ifory!"

"I'm sorry there was no gold-dust, though," said Schoverling. "Funny Mowbray mentioned it. Prob'ly he took it for granted that it was down there with the tusks. You don't suppose there could be a cache under that other post, do you?"

"One o' these would be plenty to build," returned Jack. "Let's have a look at the ivory, Chuck."

He pulled out his knife and ripped off the covering of the tusk Charlie had been pulling at. The ivory gleamed yellow and discolored in the sunlight, while a gasp of surprise went up from the Masai, as for the first time they realized what these things were. The gun-bearers gazed stolidly.



"What's this?"

Jack had held up the tusk, the point of which towered far above his head. As he lowered the hollow butt to the ground in triumph, Charlie sprang forward and picked up a little bag of skin that had been held inside the hollow end by a wooden plug, rotted away. The explorer leaped forward, whipping out his knife, and grabbed the little bag from Charlie's hand. One slash of the knife, and out trickled a little stream of yellow grains into the brown fist of the explorer.

"Gold!"

For a moment they all stood motionless, gazing at the little bag. Von Hofe's face expressed mild interest; that of Schoverling was aflame with passion; Charlie knew that his own eyes were gleaming and glittering, as were those of Jack. But almost instantly the General laughed and resumed control of himself.

"We're acting like a lot of fools. Here, boys, rip open the rest of those tusks and see if there are more sacks."

They fell to work with their knives, von Hofe joining in the work, and a few moments later a little heap of skin bags, each the size of a man's fist, was piled up. Each tusk had held one, and two or three yet retained the wooden plugs, which had to be dug out, so firmly were they fastened.

Charlie stood at the edge of the group, oblivious to all else. Suddenly he felt the hand of his gun-bearer, Amir Ali, laid on his arm, and the Gurkha whispered in his ear.

"Will the sahib come over here?"

Wondering, the boy followed the Gurkha off to one side. The gun-bearer pointed to the mainland, toward the foot of the lake, and Charlie whipped out his glasses instantly.



CHAPTER XVI

SELIM SHOWS HIS TEETH

No sooner had he obtained a focus than Charlie gave a cry of surprise. There, half a mile away still, were a dozen camels grouped together and covering the ground with huge strides. On their backs he could make out the white figures of men, and something flashed in the sunlight like a rifle-barrel.

Despite his surprise, Charlie saw with a glance that the others had not heeded him, and smiled. Casing his glasses, he walked back to the group and stood beside Schoverling, who was examining some of the gold-dust from the opened bag.

"I have a little surprise-party for you," he said quietly. They looked up at him, but Jack caught something in his voice. "You might be interested in knowing that Selim and his party are about half a mile away and coming up at full speed."

With a rush and a shout the party ran to where they could get a good look at the mainland, Charlie smiling at the sensation his words had created. Gholab, whose keen eyes had first detected the approaching camels, came running from the camp with the rifles in his arms.

Schoverling, after a long look through his glasses, turned and took one of the 30-30s without a word, buckling on his bandolier hurriedly. Von Hofe turned to him protestingly.

"We are not going to fight, Schoverling?"

"Don't see what else," returned the explorer, grimly, as he motioned to the boys to take their rifles and bandoliers. "Those are Arabs beyond any question. There's only one thing they are here for, and that's the ivory and gold."

With a troubled look, the doctor watched them.

"You don't mean that they'd fight for it, General?" asked Charlie, pausing. "Are you joking or do you mean it?"

"Mean it?" repeated the explorer, his bronzed face hardening. "Why, boys, there's a fortune in that stuff there! Do you think for a minute that those Arabs are going to give it up to us, or that I'm going to hand it over to them? Not much! We've got it and we'll keep it while we have a cartridge left!"

The Indians grinned, while they loaded their own Sniders, Gholab taking one of the heavy Hammonds. Schoverling took command of the situation, while the boys gazed at each other in dismay, knowing that he would never give in, and not relishing the idea themselves of either fighting or giving up the treasure that lay there in the sun before them.

"Bakari! Come here. Gholab, you see that the cattle are led inside this old stockade, which will keep them under cover from shore at least. Bakari, post your men to north and south in the bushes fronting the mainland. Do you understand? But don't loose an arrow or spear until I tell you. Got that?"

The Masai understood well enough, and his fierce eyes glittered at the thought of battle with the Arabs, whom every native hated with good reason. The oxen were led inside the half-burned stockade and left to themselves.

"Now, Doctor," and Schoverling's voice was very keen and cold, "this isn't your funeral, you know. If we have a row with these fellows you had better keep—"

"You are crazy as a loon, yes!" roared the big Teuton with a smile. "Would we gife up all dis?" and his hand swept toward the tusks. "Never, mine friends! I like not to fight, und maybe we don't fight, but ve vill not gife up,—nein!"

At this emphatic declaration the explorer smiled grimly. A look showed Charlie and Jack that the camels were almost to their old camp above the lake, opposite.

"If there's any chance to get out of it, General," said Charlie, "I suppose you won't go huntin' for trouble?"

"Not I," returned Schoverling. "There are twelve of them and eight of us, besides the Masai, but we've got the stuff and we've got a strong position here. Well, come on down to the shore and we'll see what's doing."

Five minutes later they stood in the bushes above the water. The Indians Schoverling posted at intervals, the Masai being hidden farther on. Across the way, through the burned opening in the reeds, they could see the camels drawing up on the eminence a hundred yards back from the lake, and through their glasses the boys distinctly made out the figure of Selim ben Amoud, in white burnous.

The Arabs bunched together for a few moments, examining the island through their glasses. The wagon and zareba were in plain sight, but they seemed to be puzzled by the absence of men or cattle. All were armed with rifles, and two or three began picketing out the camels, others taking off the camel-bags and proceeding to make camp. A moment later the tall form of Selim ben Amoud advanced alone to the edge of the water. As he did so, Schoverling rose to his feet and greeted him with a warning shout in Arabic.

"Naharak said, Selim!"

Selim paused, evidently in astonishment, stared, and half-raised his rifle. Then he dropped it again, and Charlie could distinctly see his white teeth flashing in the sun.

"Naharak said, effendi! So it is my friend Mr. Schoverling, eh? What a delightful surprise to meet you here!"

"I guess it's a surprise all right, Selim," responded the explorer. "But the delight is all on your side. Are you out trading?"

"If you would come across and visit us," returned the Arab evasively, "we would be very, very pleased to receive you."

"Don't doubt it a bit," and Schoverling grinned. "Say, come on over and have tea, Selim. Come alone, though. You can trust me but I don't trust you worth a whoop."

For answer the Arab waved his hand and turned back to his camels. The boys gazed after him in curiosity, and Charlie turned to the explorer.

"Think he'll come, Gen'ral?"

"You bet," laughed the other. "He's dying to know whether we've found that cache, and he'd trust me well enough. But we've got to make ready. Jack, go and sling a tent over that pile of ivory. Gholab!"

"Ready, sahib."

"Make tea for all of us, with Selim thrown in. A slice of that impalla for him, too, as he's apt to be hungry. Guru, you and Akram and Ali keep hidden. When I call for you, come alone."

"Yes, sahib."

"What you goin' to do, General?" asked Charlie as the explorer told him to return to the zareba with von Hofe and make every preparation to receive their visitor.

"I'm goin' to run a big bluff on him," said Schoverling. "Remember, those chaps are watching everything we do. Ah, Selim's taking a camel. Keep well hidden up there, Guru!"

With this parting admonition he departed. As they walked slowly back toward the camp, Charlie saw Schoverling pause amid the bushes, fling out his arm as if talking to some one, and point toward the shore. At one place he called Bakari and two of the warriors, whose appearance and disappearance caused a flutter in the group of Arabs.

Selim, meanwhile, had mounted a camel and was approaching the shore. It was only three in the afternoon, and the stately Arab, clad in pure white from head to foot, gleamed in the sunshine, to the admiration of the boys. He drove his ungainly steed into the water and they splashed across. Schoverling, returning, met them at the shore of the island, and led the camel forward to the camp.

Selim cast quick glances to right and left, but the gate-post hole and the treasure were hid beneath canvas and behind the grazing horses—a touch of Jack's. The camel knelt, and the Arab slipped off, Charlie dividing his attention between the man and the ugly, thick-lipped camel.

They all shook hands with smiling courtesy, as if rifles had not been leveled five minutes before, and squatted on blankets around the folding canvas table. Gholab was just making ready tea and a slice of game for the Arab.

"So," smiled Selim, though his black eyes narrowed, "you found the wonderful lake of Quilqua, after all! Did you have any guides?"

"We had Mowbray for a guide," retorted Schoverling dryly. A look of astonishment went over the dark face as the explorer handed him his own map. Then, in a few words, the General related how they had found Mowbray and produced the letter in proof. As he finished, Gholab came up with the tea, the plate of impalla for Selim, and one or two biscuits. The Arab glanced at the game hesitatingly.

"All right, Selim," declared the explorer. "There is no salt on it. Take away the biscuits, Gholab."

Charlie and Jack interchanged a meaning glance. The Arab would eat no salt with them, which was not a good sign. But he fell to on the venison with gusto, and for half an hour the talk was merely of the country, the game, and their trip. Selim stated that the Arabs who deserted Mowbray had all perished crossing the desert except one, who had remained to guide him with a rescue party. He congratulated them warmly over their first elephant hunt, and also on their battle with the buffalo. But at last Schoverling became exasperated.

"Look here, Selim," he said firmly, "you and I know each other pretty well, and I don't see any use in beating about the bush. Did you come after Mowbray, and nothing else?"

The Arab's face changed, his lids narrowing and his cruel smile thinning down. He met the gaze of the American squarely.

"Do you know of anything else I might have come after?"

"It might have been ivory and gold-dust, for one thing," with which the explorer relieved the tense situation by proffering a cigar. Von Hofe smiled to himself as Selim took it with no indication that the words had startled him.

"Yes," he admitted, "it might." He lit the cigar calmly. At the same moment Guru came into sight, evidently having received some instructions beforehand that Charlie had missed. He advanced toward the party and saluted.

"Well?" said Schoverling.

"Report, sahib. Two of the Arabs have gone up north by the shore."

"You'd better call over to your men, Selim," chuckled the American. "They're liable to meet a buffalo or python in there." The Arab shrugged his shoulders unconcernedly. "Very well, Guru. Keep the men just as they are. Send out twenty of the Masai to spread along the shore to the north. Your men are arranged?"

"Yes, sahib," said the quick-witted Sikh impassively. "Ten near the ford under Amir, and my ten somewhat to the south."

"You may go." Guru saluted and wheeled. Charlie, watching Selim's clear-cut face during this amazing dialogue, saw it change expression slightly.

"You have quite a force, Schoverling," remarked the Arab calmly. "Then, I suppose that you have found the gold-dust and the ivory?"

"Under that canvas," and the explorer pointed. "The game's up, Selim ben Amoud. We got here first, that's all. If your men had not deserted Mowbray he would have cleaned up the stuff. As it is, we have it."

"Yes, you have it," repeated Selim slowly. "But, my friend, you shall not have it long."

"Oh, we have men enough to defend it," retorted the American carelessly. Charlie drew a quick breath. "You have only a dozen over there, and could not cross the strait under our fire."

"If it comes to that," and Selim's teeth glinted, "you cannot cross under our fire, my friend. I learned of the cache and of this lake, and equipped the first expedition. By right, that treasure is mine."

"But I found it," returned the explorer brutally. "And by might it is mine."

For a moment tense silence fell upon the group. The boys watched the slim Arab, whose composure never gave way under the strain, which must have been terrific. He puffed slowly at his cigar, and then smiled.

"Mr. Schoverling, and you, Dr. von Hofe, you will realize that your men cannot subsist on air. They must have food. You may be too strong for us in open fight, but at least we can keep you on the island. I do not give up so easily. You may give me trouble, but in the end you will die—either of starvation or by bullet. By the way, this brush seems to be pretty dry. When my men were here it was green. I think a taste of fire—you catch my meaning!"

Charlie, at least, caught it and stared aghast at the cruel smile of the Arab.



CHAPTER XVII

FRESH SPOOR

"That's a good bluff, Selim," rejoined Schoverling coolly, "but it won't go down with me. You might as well give in."

The other shook his head, still smiling. But at this instant Jack, who had listened with intense interest to the duel of words, struck in and cut the Gordian knot.

"Look here, General, and Mr. ben Amoud," he said, leaning forward earnestly. "There's no sense in getting hot-headed over this. As near's I can see, we've each got a mighty good excuse to scrap, and we can do a whole lot of damage once we start. But this country isn't the place to start a row, not to my notion.

"You hold on, Gen'ral, till I get through. We might shoot things up consid'able, both of us, an' when we got through there wouldn't be enough of us left to get back home with. If you start anything, Selim, we'll raise you the limit; but there's no sense to it. I say, let's each of us divvy up the loot an' dig out for home."

That Schoverling had not considered any division of the cache was evident, and he considered Jack's speech silently. Selim, however, smiled again.

"My young friend, you are very wise. Mr. Schoverling, perhaps we might agree on that basis. A fight would be costly to each of us, and might leave us unable to get home, as is suggested. I am none too anxious to stay in this land after the tales you tell. I recognize the fact that you have the advantage of having the treasure in your power, and see no reason why we should not share it and be gone."

Schoverling hesitated as Selim spoke. He plainly realized the force of the argument, and yet to give up even a share of the ivory and dust went against the grain. Perhaps he doubted the good faith of his friend the enemy, but in any case von Hofe's grunt of approbation decided him.

"It iss goot," said the doctor anxiously. "We haf come for elephant, please."

"All right," and the American's face cleared as he held out his hand to the Arab. "We'll split even, Selim!"

"Hurray!" shouted Charlie in delight. "Bully for you, General! Good work, Jack!"

"That is entirely agreeable," smiled Selim, as he gripped Schoverling's hand. "Now, my friends, we have been in this country for two days, and I have many affairs to get back to. There is no reason why we should delay here for an hour. It is still two hours to sunset, and our camels could cover much ground before then. So, if you are willing, let us divide the spoils and I will trouble you no more."

"That suits us," exclaimed the explorer, springing to his feet. "Come along and we'll have a look at the stuff."

Casting a glance opposite as they arose, Charlie saw that the Arabs had started a fire and seemed to be eating, while the camels grazed. The party left the zareba and moved over to the stockade. Jack threw the canvas from the two piles, and for a moment the Arab's eyes glittered as he surveyed the great heap of ivory.

"Those tusks," he said, "will be hard for us to carry off. We had thought to sling them on our camels, but after our experience of that desert to the north it would make hard work, I fear."

"Well," suggested Charlie, "you might swap your share of the ivory for some of our gold-dust. That would make it easier to carry."

"Yes," added the General thoughtfully. "We can carry the tusks easily enough in the wagon. There are sixteen each, Selim, and the same number of bags. Here's one I cut open."

The Arab ran the soft gold-dust through his fingers for a moment.

"There is no use stopping to count or weigh all this, Schoverling. Each tusk must be worth, at an average, some fifteen pounds at the coast. Each of these bags seems to be of a size, and they are probably weighed to the same amount. My share of the ivory is worth, at a guess, some two hundred and forty pounds, or twelve hundred of your dollars. What would you say the dust weighs?"

"That is a little hard to say," returned the American. "I rather think, however, that an estimate of about two hundred and fifty dollars—or fifty pounds a bag—would be just about right. If that suits you, I'm agreeable."

"I think that is nearly correct," smiled Selim, nodding. "It is, I believe, slightly an under-estimate, but that matters little. Then, at the rate we figure, I would have twenty-one bags as my share, leaving you all the ivory. That is correct?"

"Perfectly," returned Schoverling. "It looks to me like a fair split, and if the gold runs over that figure, I won't kick. I'll throw in an odd bag for good luck, Selim; that leaves us an even ten and the ivory. There must be more gold where that came from, just the same. You might come back here with a good force and make a clean-up, old man."

"Perhaps I will," said the other seriously. "Now, will you help me get these bags into my saddle-bags? I have no fancy to remain overnight by this lake."

All pitched in and helped to carry the twenty-two little bags of precious metal over to the camel, which was kneeling and chewing stolidly. Jack stepped too near with his burden, and the vicious head swung about to snap. He leaped back amid the laughter of the rest, who remained at a safe distance.

"Well, I suppose we must part," smiled Selim, holding out his hand as the last of the bags was laced in the leathern flaps. "It would be insincere to say that I am not sorry at finding you here before me, but I am really very glad we did not have to fight. To tell the truth, my men were almost too frightened to remain here, and had it come to fighting, they would have refused point-blank."

"Well," laughed Schoverling whimsically, "I might as well show under true colors, since you have led the way," and he called in all the men. At sight of their real numbers, Selim gave a shout of laughter.

"Good, brother, good!" he cried as he urged his camel forward from its knees. "We played the game well, you and I." He waved a hand as the camel plunged into the water at the ford. "Abqa'la kheir!"

"Abqa'la kheir," shouted the American, and the two boys waved their hats with attempts at the Arabic, which drew a last laughing wave from Selim. Then his camel went up the farther bank.

"That means 'until the next time,'" laughed Schoverling. "Well, I'm glad that we got out of that as we did."

"So am I," declared von Hofe, smiling broadly. "See, they are going."

So it appeared, for as Selim joined the rest there was an immediate bustle. The camels were unpicketed, the saddles adjusted, and the camp broken. All twelve Arabs were now in camp, and one by one the awkward steeds rose to their feet.

"They're mighty fine beasts," declared Schoverling. "No common camels there, but picked racers, worth a fortune apiece. Selim does things up right, no doubt about that."

"He come pretty near doing us up right," grinned Jack. Then came a flutter of the burnouses, those on the island waved, and the group of camels moved away at an amazing speed, to the southwest.

"Probably going to circle around the hills and strike for the north," commented Charlie.

While daylight remained they did nothing save store the ivory in the wagon and place the gold-dust in the brass trunk belonging to von Hofe.

It was decided to place the traps along the shore of the island near the mainland, and all the men were called upon to make note of where they were placed, as they would be left in position until the camp was abandoned.

The injured Masai were slowly recovering from their hurts, for although their wounds rapidly healed, the broken bones took longer. As they sat around the dinner-table that night the four explorers decided that every day spent in that country added to their danger, and that the search for the rogue elephant should begin the next morning.

"I'm kind of disappointed," muttered Charlie to Jack, as they rolled up that night with Schoverling on guard. "Aren't you? I thought that stuff would be worth heaps o' coin, but according to the General's figures it doesn't come to more'n five thousand iron men."

"What're you looking for?" retorted Jack wearily. "Four or five million? S'pose we split up on that, it means a thousand each, easy. Why, I never saw a thousand dollars in my life. It looks mighty good to me, Chuck."

"Oh, it looks good," admitted Charlie hastily. "But when you talk about treasure you reckon in big figures. I'm not kicking, though,—not on your life! Good thing you came in when you did with that splitting proposition. How'd you happen to think of it?"

"Who wouldn't?" returned Jack. "Made me tired to hear 'em sit there and argue back and forth, making threats and so on. No sense in it."

Nothing occurred that night to disturb the camp, although the Masai kept up until late a dance and chant in triumph at having, as they supposed, put the Arabs to flight. But in the morning Schoverling made an announcement that roused everyone.

"About eleven last night," he said at breakfast, "I heard a big crashing north of us, farther toward the head of the lake. Then came snorts, and a single trumpet. Sounded as if the rogue elephant was out on a stroll and had run into a buffalo or something."

"Then I feel very sorry for that buffalo," smiled von Hofe. "We shall all go out this morning, no?"

"You don't have to go, Doctor," said the explorer earnestly. "At best you could only take one of the rifles, for we'll have to carry the big guns."

"Pouf!" grunted the German. "It is my party, and I shall go."

"We might as well go on foot," declared the American. "Now, boys, we can put a little tracking into play. The Masai won't do us any good. As near as I can see, we'll have to catch that fellow when he isn't looking for trouble. And remember, under no circumstances fire at his head."

"How about the bull you killed back at Kenia?" objected Charlie. "You put a bullet in each eye, an' laid him out cold."

"He was within ten feet of me then, and I had no choice in the matter. No, when we do get a shot just you aim to cripple him—in the shoulder or leg. If he charges, hit his trunk or break his leg. One of those bullets, big as they are, would simply flatten out on his skull and stun him."

Von Hofe, who still wished to kill one of the giant buffalo himself, took a 30-30, and Akram Das had perforce to take his Snider or go weaponless. The three hunters carried their own heavy guns, for they might be needed at an instant's notice, and filled their bandoliers to the limit. Gholab Singh was left in charge of the camp with five Masai, Bakari and the other five accompanying the party as flankers and scouts.

An hour after sunrise they waded across the strip of water between the island and shore, and turned toward the head of the lake, as it was in this direction that the explorer had heard the elephant during the preceding night. There seemed to be no sign of any game around them, for once, at which Jack wondered.

"Scared out," said the explorer grimly, "if that rogue was around."

Ahead, the country did not appear so densely wooded as they had thought. It ascended toward the hills beyond in gentle, rolling swells, and they had no difficulty in advancing through the knee-deep grass. On every hand were trees in clumps or singly, but no sign of elephant spoor could they see.

"Maybe we'd better strike in a little from the river," suggested Charlie. "Jack and I could have a look, anyhow, an' we might pick up a trail."

"I don't think there's much danger that he'd be here, so go ahead," returned Schoverling to their delight. "Circle around for a couple of hundred yards, but don't get out of sight. If he was here last night, he was probably drinking, and has gone in to feed."

The two boys left the party, followed by Akram and Amir Ali, their gun-bearers. But although they searched the ground well, no sign of a trail did they see. Getting a little farther from the party all the time, they proceeded for nearly a mile, and found the forest verging into a jungle of bamboo.

"Jack," exclaimed Charlie quietly, stopping, "come over here."

Jack and the Indians joined him, and he pointed to the ground a yard ahead. There, deep in the soft soil, was the fresh spoor of an elephant—and at its size the Indians gave a gasp of wonder. It was the rogue!



CHAPTER XVIII

LOST!

Charlie looked around. The bamboos were all about them, and without retracing their steps they could not summon the others. Jack gripped his arm.

"Look here, Chuck! Let's cut away from the General an' get after that rogue ourselves!"

"Got to obey orders," and Charlie negatived it with a shake of the head. "That spoor is too fresh to suit me, Jack."

"Well, then," and Jack was quivering with eagerness; "we can start on an' send Akram back—slow. We ain't kids. We can tell pretty well if we get up on him."

Charlie considered this proposition for a moment. He longed to have the triumph of downing the old rogue himself, and yet he knew that Schoverling would countenance no disobedience, no departure from orders. But that fresh spoor, leading off through the trees, tempted him and at last he fell.

"All right. Akram, you go back and call the General. But don't hurry. Tell him that we'll wait for him at the first sign of any danger."

The Indian grinned, saluted, and loitered away. Without hesitation Charlie turned and led the way along the trail. This followed a newly-broken path through the bamboos, and five minutes later they were swallowed up in the dense thickets.

Both the boys had been used, Jack especially, to following the trail of deer or moose and smaller animals through the woods of the northland, but this was very different. The ground was soft, and the huge bulk of the elephant had sent his feet down at times three or four feet. However, they were able to read the signs of the trail well enough.

"He stopped to feed here," declared Charlie, pointing to a tangle of broken branches at one side. Wherever possible they trod in his tracks, as no sticks or twigs remained to crack beneath their feet; the holes in the swampier ground they of course avoided.

"Hello, what's this?" cried Jack. A new trail merged into that which they followed, and by a footprint they knew it for that of one of the giant buffaloes. "We've got to see if he's waiting or not."

The Indian watched them stolidly, gun ready, while they examined the broken bamboos and twigs, as well as the hoof-prints.

"He came in ahead o' the rogue," declared Charlie positively. "Look, here's a deep buffalo-print that's dry. There's one 'bout as deep made by the rogue, but there's water at the bottom. Then these trees over here are dry, but there's still a little sap on the elephant's trail."

"Then they came by last night, sure enough," said Jack. "The buffalo started along feeling pretty good. Stopped to nibble here. The rogue struck into his trail and swished right along careless. Stopped to rub on that tree—there's buffalo hair—whew! Say, that rogue is big!"

"Twelve feet up," said Amir Ali with a delighted display of teeth, as he reached in vain toward the scarred bark.

Somewhat sobered by this, the boys stared at each other until Charlie resumed the march. No sign had come from behind of Schoverling and the rest. Fifty feet farther on the bamboos thinned out, and in a little glade they came upon fresher tracks.

"Hello!" cried Jack. "Buffalo stopped to feed over here but didn't stay long. Look at the tracks, Chuck. He turned around and stood for a minute, till his hoofs sunk down. Most likely that's where he heard the elephant coming along."

"Well, he didn't wait." Charlie was bending over the spoor as he walked along, reading the sign eagerly. "He pushed right ahead after a minute—say, do you s'pose that was the rumpus the General heard last night? He said it sounded like a buffalo and an elephant!"

Jack shook his head, and now they followed the trail out onto higher ground. The bamboos thinned behind them, and before them were scattered woods, heavy, flat-topped thorn trees, junipers, and others the boys did not know, while the country was well broken up by little rises. But that was not what caused the boys to leap forward.

In the open space ahead lay a shapeless mass that had once been a buffalo. It was easy to tell what had happened here. The elephant, possibly coming upon the great bull at the edge of the bamboos, had paid no attention to him; possibly had brushed him aside. At all events, the bull had drawn blood, for they saw spots on the edge of the elephant spoor. The huge rogue had plainly turned and pressed his opponent against a big tree, which was scraped and dotted with hair and blood. But this stood a good fifteen feet away from the position of the buffalo, and there were only elephant tracks between!

"Jumping sandhills!" cried Charlie, realizing the truth. "He must have caught up that buffalo and flung him! Then he went over and kneeled all over him."

"Right you are," exclaimed Jack. "Ugh, what a mess! Let's go on."

As they turned, a vulture came winging out of the sky and descended without fear on the carcass. Charlie pointed out that they must be wrong.

"This is another bull, Jack. If the other fellow fought last night, the vultures would be on him by now. Anyhow, that sap was too fresh on the twigs. Bet a dollar the rogue had two scraps last night instead of one."

That they were right was verified a moment later by Amir Ali, who attracted their attention to a moving object behind some trees six hundred yards away, at the crest of a rise. The boys had their glasses out instantly.

"It's either a rhino or the fellow we're after," declared Jack with a low exclamation. "He's moving off—there he goes on the other side!"

"Come on!" cried Charlie, running forward. Carried away beyond all thought of caution by the excitement, Jack and Amir Ali dashed after him recklessly. It had been impossible to make out the elephant clearly by reason of the trees between, but Charlie had no doubt that he was the one they were after.

That they were plunging into grave danger never occurred to him, nor did he wonder why Schoverling and the rest had not come up. The sun was now high overhead, and the higher ground around them bore no tracks. But neither boy had eye for anything except that clump of trees where the huge animal had stood.

"You keep your eye peeled," cried Jack, at his chum's shoulder. "He's liable to be waitin' there."

But as the trees opened out ahead they saw that the elephant had not waited. The group of mimosas where he had been was waving slowly in the wind, and for the first time Charlie remembered that most essential part of African hunting. A brief glance, however, showed that they were across the wind from their prey, and so were safe enough. What lay beyond the mimosas was hidden by the rise, toward which they were rapidly approaching.

Panting, the boys at length drew up to the trees, and the country ahead unfolded. To their keen disappointment, there was no sign of the elephant to be seen. Jack, however quickly pointed to some tall bushes that grew on a slope to their left, more in the direction of the lake.

"There he is! See them bushes wave, Chuck? Better send in a bullet!"

"Cut it!" exclaimed Charlie sharply as Jack brought up his rifle. "Remember what the General said—that we'd have to catch him when he wasn't looking? Got to bust a leg first crack or we're goners. Say, how'll the rest know where we are?"

"They can follow our tracks," cried Jack over his shoulder, as he fell into a lope and headed for the bushes, beyond which rose trees. They were but four hundred yards away, and could plainly be seen waving as some heavy body struggled through them. The thought crossed Charlie's brain as he followed, that even Schoverling would have a hard time tracking; them on that high, rocky ground, but he dismissed it carelessly enough. Amir Ali pounded along after them, grimly determined not to be left behind.

They were soon near the bushes, but instead of venturing into them, Jack turned aside toward a small hill. Charlie was at his heels, and a moment later the two boys drew up with a simultaneous cry of dismay.

"Rhino!" ejaculated Charlie in disgust. "We're a dandy pair, we are!"

Emerging from the bushes, a hundred yards farther on, was a huge rhinoceros. They were now down-wind, and he neither heard nor saw them, but trotted off lumberingly without so much as a glance in their direction.

"We're a nice bunch of idiots," said Jack angrily, unconsciously including the innocent Amir in the epithet. "We just saw something big and gray moving around, and took it for granted he was an elephant. We should have stuck to the trail, Chuck."

"Well," returned Charlie, "we're here. Next question is, where are we?"

"Where are we?" repeated Jack, turning in surprise. "Why, we headed east to that first clump of trees, and then north to here. There's the bamboo patch we left, over there."

"Not much," retorted his chum with conviction. "We headed south first, and then east. There's our elephant trail," and he pointed to a second patch of bamboo jungle to their left.

For a moment the two stared at each other. Then Jack broke into a laugh.

"Say, remember that story 'bout the two tenderfeet up north o' Smith's Landing? One said east was one way, the other said it was the other way. They had a scrap and each went east for the camp. An hour later they come face to face in the same place. Well, that's us."

Charlie appealed to Amir Ali, but the Indian shrugged his shoulders and declared that he had not kept the sense of direction, supposing that the sahibs had done so. As neither boy had followed the compass, the instruments were of little use to them.

"Plain fact of the matter is, we're lost," announced Charlie. "If we fired our guns we'd get the General down on us soon enough, but it'd scare off the rogue."

"Be a heap more likely to bring him down on us," grunted Jack. "We've got to find the bunch before the General gets sore, Chuck."

Charlie suggested following their track back, but of course this proved impracticable. There were clumps of mimosa thorn in every direction, each similar to that which they had first headed for. They had left no tracks on the bare, rocky soil, and the grass had closed behind them in the wind.

The tired Amir Ali squatted down to rest, while with their glasses they searched in every direction. They thought of the smoke from the camp-fire, but this was invisible behind the trees. In the distance moved a herd of zebra and another of impalla, but this was the only indication of life that they could find.

"We'll hear the General shooting pretty soon," said Charlie disgustedly. "What's that over in those trees? Looks like an old native village."

"Let's go over an' see," suggested Jack. "We can camp down there and build a fire. That'll draw the General quicker'n shots would. They might get the rogue's notice."

"Ain't so eager," grinned Charlie. "What's the matter? Nerve failed you?"

"No," confessed the other. "It's all right chasing along when you know the rest of them are right behind. But to get stuck off somewhere all by yourself isn't so soothing. Guess we won't monkey with that rogue till the General comes along."

They started across the slope to where a few of the ruined huts showed the location of a former village. This, when they reached it, proved to be of large extent, a few huts yet standing, others lying in over-grown mounds amid the trees. To their right extended fairly open plain, while at the left the heavier forest and bamboo patches closed in almost to the village.

Jack set about building a fire to send up a smoke-signal, while Charlie wandered through the desolate village. Suddenly he came upon something that surprised him. Lying in a half-cleared space were the half-burned sticks and the ashes of a fire. Plainly, they had been there for weeks, for vines were growing through, but they could not be as old as the village itself. He called Jack over to look at it.

"This must be where Mowbray hit off to after the rogue," exclaimed Jack excitedly. "We're plumb on his tracks. I'm goin' to let off a gun, rogue or no rogue. There—that's the bunch now!"

To their ears came the faint report of a heavy gun, borne over the trees, Jack lifted his own Hammond, and sent off both barrels in response.

"That'll get him," he chuckled as he threw out the shells and reloaded. "Now for the fire."

But as he turned away, a startled cry from Amir Ali drew their attention.



CHAPTER XIX

THE ROGUE ELEPHANT

"Sahibs! Sahibs! The elephant!"

At first the boys looked behind him, taking it for granted that he was running from the danger. But at his gestures they whirled, and there Charlie saw a sight that he never forgot.

Breaking slowly and deliberately from the forest to their left, three hundred yards from where they stood, was an elephant. But no ordinary tusker, this. To the startled imaginations of the two boys it seemed that the tremendous brute towered far above them; in reality, he was over thirteen feet tall, but his immense tusk and huge flapping ears increased his terrific aspect two-fold.

"Jumping sandhills!" breathed Charlie. He heard Jack give a startled gasp at his side.

They were up-wind, and the elephant not only heard but saw them. For a moment he stood, and the boys were so awed by that terrible sight that they forgot to shoot. With his great trunk flung far up, those twelve-foot tusks stretched far up, and the great semi-circular ears lifted up until they almost met above his head, he seemed like some prehistoric monster from thousands of years ago.

Watching the evil glitter of the little red eyes, Charlie stood as if paralyzed. He realized how the primitive men must have felt when they stood face to face with some huge mammoth, hurling against him their stone-tipped spears and wielding stone axes.

The very thought woke him to himself, bringing back to mind the gun in his hands. Jack stood, awestruck at that fearsome sight, and Charlie yelled at him. As he did so, the rogue elephant curled forward his trunk and trumpeted loud and shrill—a wild scream of rage and defiance that sent the chattering monkeys scurrying in frightened silence.

"Shoot, sahibs!" implored the sweating Amir Ali, not daring to infringe the rules himself.

Once again the elephant trumpeted, and broke forward with a lurch that sent the trees crashing down around him. Jack, trembling with buckfever, flung up his gun and let go both barrels at once. The shock sent him over backward with a groan.

Charlie waited an instant. He knew that Amir was helping Jack up, but those two cordite bullets had not stopped the great rogue—if, indeed, they had hit him at all. As it proved, both bullets had merely raked along his side. Then he charged—terribly, deadly, asking and receiving no quarter from these puny men who dared to stand before him.

For that instant Charlie felt a wild inclination to turn and run. Then he conquered himself and became cool as he heard the click of Jack's rifle-breech behind him. Up went his Holland, and aiming for the elephant's right fore-leg, he pulled trigger.

Without pausing to see the effect, he followed it instantly with the second ball. During one brief moment it seemed that neither had taken effect, and with feverish energy Charlie pressed home two fresh shells. That awe-inspiring beast was a hundred and fifty yards away, and each second seemed an hour. But, just as Jack stepped forward and fired again, the great beast rocked and went down.

Both bullets had struck his fore-leg, shattering it. A wild thrill of hope ran through Charlie and he leaped forward. But the rogue had vitality beyond the ordinary, vitality and a tremendous raging strength that carried him to his feet again. For an instant he stood, lurching and rocking on three legs, trumpeting shrilly until the woods re-echoed, and then the horrified Charlie saw him plunge forward, trunk thrown out.

Again Jack fired, and splinters of skin and bone flew from the rogue's head. Charlie realized full well that his only hope lay in crippling the terrible beast, crippling him so that he could advance no farther. A hundred yards away now, and as he raised the big rifle slowly, mist blurred his sight for a moment. All depended on those two last shots in his rifle.

The mist cleared away. It seemed that the great beast was towering over him, reaching for him with that terrible trunk. But he resisted the temptation to fire at the head, and drew a careful bead on the left fore-shoulder.

Charlie never remembered firing those two shots. The next thing he knew, the rogue was standing before him, then the great head went down with a shrill scream of pain and anger, the mighty form crumpled, and with a crash that shook the very earth beneath them the rogue elephant toppled forward.

Something long and white flashed past, and from behind came a sudden scream of pain. Whirling, Charlie saw Amir Ali, who had stuck to them bravely, stagger away and sink down. As the elephant dropped, his impetus and the tremendous weight of his gigantic body had snapped off short one of the ends of his tusks, the severed ivory flying forward and striking the Gurkha in the head.

Charlie ran to the man's side, but at a shout from Jack left him and sprang up. The rogue was not dead yet. Fighting to the last, he was trying to rise to his shattered knees, trumpeting till the woods rang again with the horrible screams. Jack was dashing around to his side for a finishing shot, and Charlie watched. Despite himself, he could not help feeling a throb of pity for the great animal, rogue and destroyer though he might be, struggling there so desperately to rise.

And, impossible though it seemed, the elephant actually regained his feet. But even as he did so the shattered fore-legs crumpled up again, and with a low muttering moan of pain he went down. A moment later Jack fired, twice, placing each bullet behind the left shoulder.

Charlie saw the mighty trunk go up, but no sound issued forth. The red eyes seemed to meet his as with one tremendous effort the rogue lurched up once more, then the huge ears sagged down, the trunk frothed forth bloody foam and fell in the dust, and with a single groan the elephant went over on his side, dead.

Charlie's first thought was for Amir Ali. Reaching the man's side, he pulled the stopper from his canteen and poured water over the Gurkha's head, which was flowing with blood. The wound, however, proved to be slight and the man was but stunned. Charlie gazed down at the foot-long sliver of ivory, and rose. He felt unable to do more, and glanced around for Jack. The other was sitting in the grass, gazing at the dead rogue.

Feeling his knees growing weak with the reaction, Charlie staggered to his side and sank down. For a few moments neither boy spoke. There was something terrible about having killed such an animal, something that oppressed them both with a feeling that it was not yet over, that at any moment he might rise and come at them.

Charlie tried to speak, but his throat was dry. He had emptied his canteen over Amir, and caught that of Jack. Taking a swallow, he forced the water on Jack, and a moment later the boys rose to their feet.

"I'm kind of sorry," was all Jack could find to say, as he stared down at the brute who had lived so badly and died so well. Charlie shared his feeling, but a moment later a loud gun-shot came to his ears. He remembered the other party, and raising his gun, fired twice in the air.

"Buck up, old man," he said, with a shaky laugh. "The General will be here in a minute, and he'll give us what for. The old boy died game, Jack—but he had it coming to him. Just remember Mowbray."

Jack nodded without speaking. Then, from the forest, not behind but ahead of them, broke a group of yelling Masai headed by Bakari, running on the spoor of the rogue elephant. Behind, trying to hold them back from too close pursuit, ran the figure of Schoverling.

Both explorer and natives paused together as they grasped the scene before them. Jack and Charlie stood at the side of the dead beast, still pale with the strain of their terrific battle. Behind lay the motionless form of Amir Ali, his beard sticking up in the sunlight, the sliver of ivory by his head, while a few yards away the forgotten fire sent up a thin wreath of smoke into the air.

Schoverling was the first to break that awed silence, as on his trail appeared Guru, von Hofe, and the rest, all at full speed. While they came up and paused in amazement, the explorer advanced and held out his hand.

"I congratulate you," he said huskily. Meeting his eye, the two boys found there only honest admiration, as from man to man, and they shook hands without a word. Then von Hofe joined them, shaking hands with a flood of excited German through which broke no word of English, and the boys laughed.

"We thought you'd be pretty sore, General," admitted Charlie a moment later, "about our going off that way. But, honest, we didn't mean to—except at first."

"I understand, boys," smiled the bronzed explorer. "But never mind that—Akram told me all about it when we began to get anxious. We thought you had gone right on the trail of the elephant, which only led us out here, so we kept on as fast as we could. And this is the great Rogue Elephant! How on earth did you boys kill him? Is Amir dead?"

"No, only stunned," said Charlie. Guru and Akram were attending to their injured comrade, who by this time was sitting up, dazed but not badly injured. Before hearing their story, Schoverling despatched Bakari and Guru to bring on the Masai with all speed, while Guru had instructions to inspan and move the camp to this spot, it being possible for the wagon to get around the forest from the south. The Masai who were left, at once fell to work, von Hofe directing them while he listened.

The two boys told the story of the hunt together, freely confessing that at first they had been too much frightened to take good aim. The course of their bullets was followed, von Hofe carefully pocketing the sliver of ivory that had so nearly done for Amir Ali.

"It iss no matter," he said. "I can it fix when I set him up. Ach—vait, vait! My camera!"

He hastily brushed the five Masai off the carcass and photographed it from every angle, then posed the boys with their rifles, each holding out an ear of the huge beast. The elephant had rolled back until its head lay on the ground, trunk extended, between its fore-legs, and the two boys looked and felt very small indeed as they stood on each side of the massive head.

An hour later the remaining Masai arrived and all fell to work on the skinning. The explorer built up the fire, making a great smoke signal that would guide Guru and Gholab for miles, but it was not until evening that the slow ox-team crawled up to them and was outspanned. In place of a zareba, the traps were set out, but there was to be no rest for the skinners. While great fires were lighted, before which strings of elephant meat were roasted, they worked far into the night getting off the skin of the Rogue.

"How long will we be here, Doctor?" asked the explorer anxiously.

"We have not enough men to pare down the skin inside of a week," said the scientist. "However, the wagon can stand the weight, and we can let the paring go. With two days of drying in the sun and one day to rub in the chemicals, we will go."

"Three days," nodded Schoverling, and turned to the boys. "Well, boys, I needn't say that I'm sorry not to have had a shot at the brute, for poor Mowbray's sake, but I'll donate a case with his shattered rifle, his letter, watch, and pictures of the Rogue to the Club when we get back. So you both get the credit for him together, eh?"

"I guess so," said Jack. "I didn't do much to knock him over. Chuck did that. But I got in the two shots that finished him."

"Jack stopped him all right," protested Charlie, "with that bullet in the head, when he charged us on three legs. Honest, General, even after he went down the second time, I was scared stiff when I saw him get up! I thought I was dreaming, for I knew that both my bullets had got him in the knee."

"I should think you would have been scared!" laughed the explorer. "I was scared myself, that day the other bull nearly got us up on Mount Kenia. Well, it's all over now. I guess you boys have gained the biggest share of the credit, but you sure deserve it."

When the boys woke in the morning, the Masai were already hard at work again. At last they got the huge sections of skin off, and the protesting oxen were made to drag off the carcass away from the camp. The hide was thoroughly cleansed, and then staked out to dry in the sun for two days, after which the doctor would attend to it further.

"Doesn't it all seem like a wild old dream to you?" asked Jack that day, as they rode out after an impalla steak. "It's hard to realize that we've done it, Chuck."

"Just the same, we have," laughed Charlie. "Say, when we get back an' show up the pictures we've taken, with the doctor's, won't we raise a howl? I'd like to see that Inspector what's his name?—Inspector Harrington's face when he hears about it! He'll throw a fit!"

"Not him," chuckled Jack ungrammatically but happily. "He'll put out his hand an' say, 'By Jove, allow me to congratulate you! Wonderful!'"

Which, as it turned out, was exactly what he did.



CHAPTER XX

THE BACK TRAIL

They remained in "Rogue Camp," as Charlie christened it, for three days. The injured Masai warriors were still in no shape to march, although Amir was all right again, but the big wagon had plenty of room. The ivory was loaded solidly and lashed down, with the elephant hide and skull over it, the latter being up in front. On top were placed the tents and other impedimenta, leaving just enough room for the two Masai to lie comfortably beneath the tilt.

"I don't envy him his place," grinned Jack as they loaded him on, the fourth morning. "Bet that hide won't smell like roses."

"Little he minds that," laughed von Hofe, in huge delight. "He is used to much worse. Schoverling, what are the plans?"

All gathered about the explorer with interest. He drew forth the chart belonging to Selim, which the Arab had omitted to take with him.

"I have our compass-bearings from the other camp, where Mowbray died, to the first water-hole we struck. We can circle around these hills to the southwest, then strike back to the river. To follow our old march back to the water-hole will not be hard.

"There we had better rest a day and stock up. Fortunately, the cattle are in prime shape for the return march. I'll warn Bakari to keep his men away from the water this time, and we ought to get across. Gholab, come over here. Can you follow a compass-bearing through the desert?"

"Yes, sahib."

"Very well, that is all for now. You see," and Schoverling turned to the others, "I figure that by sending Gholab and Guru on ahead with the wagon for three or four days, the other six of us can wait at the waterhole. That will help out the water in the casks wonderfully. With three canteens apiece, we will be able to catch up to them after four days, and our horses will still be in prime condition."

This plan was ultimately followed, and proved excellent. They reached the water-hole by easy stages, the wagon now being heavily laden, and gave the cattle a day's rest here. The doctor was forced to abandon his idea of getting a buffalo, as every pound of weight would tell on the oxen, but he cared little for that now.

They met with no molestation on the return trip beside the river. On one occasion Jack shot another of the forty-foot pythons, which seemed to live in the river, but they saw nothing of the great buffalo herd. On the day they reached the waterhole a rhino charged down on the caravan and narrowly missed goring Bakari, but Schoverling managed to drop him in the nick of time.

The explorer allowed the wagon and the Masai four days' start from the waterhole. A good supply of fodder for the cattle was taken, although this was hardly necessary for any save the horses, and with full water-casks Gholab and Guru plodded off. The others camped, resting the horses and hunting, and on the fifth morning took up the desert trail.

They caught up with the caravan on the eighth day, after narrowly missing it, for a compass-led trip over the desert is no easy matter to keep accurate. The cattle were going along well, the injured Masai were healing well enough to walk part of the day, and all promised favorably for the last stages of the journey.

Being away from fresh game, the Masai were forced to drink water on the desert, much to their disgust. However, Bakari realized the necessity of keeping his men on the allowance given them, and there was no tapping the barrels at night this time. Day after day they plodded along through the dust, and at length Schoverling and the others rode ahead to bring out the other wagon with more water.

So well had the explorer led them that they arrived within half a mile of the camp, to be met with shouts of delight by the men and tears of joy by the lonely Gurkha who had remained in charge. The other oxen were found sleek and well, and Guru, who protested his entire ability, was sent out with the second wagon, loaded with water and fresh fodder, to meet the other.

They came in five days later without accident, the footsore and weary Masai riding delightedly in the extra wagon. After a rest of two days, the load was divided between the two wagons and all set forth for the last trek across the first plain they had crossed. But this was not so bad as that other, and with the aid of an opportune rainstorm that lasted all night, they reached the friendly foothills once more and gained the villages of the Samburo.

From here on to Yonge's Station was play compared to what they had been through. The commissioner met them with great delight, and they outspanned the oxen for a three-days' rest before going on. The Masai were paid and dismissed, each with a handsome gift that sent them away rejoicing.

"Here," said Captain Yonge, holding out an envelope, "is a cable that was forwarded by runner. It came in two days since."

Schoverling reached across the dinner-table and tore it open. He scanned it, then broke into a laugh and read it aloud:

"'Louis Schoverling, care Captain Yonge, Commissioner District, B. S. A.:

"'Best wishes. Bags valued seventy pounds. Got ahead of you there.

"'SELIM BEN AMOUD'"

They related the story of their trip to Yonge. Schoverling had been in some doubt as to the advisability of saying anything about the gold-dust, but von Hofe overruled him. When they had finished, the captain dissipated their doubts.

"Why, of course, my dear fellow! There will be no objection in the least to your keeping the ivory. You have brought back great news. Poor Mowbray! He was a plucky fellow, and we always regretted orders to go out after him—though he licked us every time. But that news about the new country up north is great! I shouldn't wonder if you got an F. R. G. S. out of it, Schoverling."

Taking it easy, they arrived in due course of time at the end of their trip. Runners had gone on ahead, and for the last two days Piet Andrus with a dozen more rode with them, having gone out to meet the wagons.

At Mombasa they interviewed the governor, relating officially their news of Mowbray and giving a detailed account of the lake country which had been discovered. It was at once arranged that six months later a great safari was to be sent up, with Louis Schoverling in charge, to make a scientific exploration and map out the country about the hot lake.

Letters and cables poured in on them, and the two weeks spent at Mombasa were busy ones. Accounts of their trip were despatched to London, New York and Toronto, and on the day they left a cable came which announced that Schoverling had gained one of his life-long ambitions—Fellowship in the Royal Geographical Society.

"Well, we've sure had a great time," sighed Jack as they steamed out of Mombasa. Von Hofe was accompanying them to New York. "We've pulled pretty near two thousand each out of that ivory and dust, Chuck."

"It certainly does look like big money now," admitted Charlie. "Well, I see where I dig in to learn for a while. Then maybe we can get together for another trip somewheres, eh, General?"

"I hope so," laughed Schoverling. "I thought maybe you would have had enough of it."

"Not much!" cried both boys together. Von Hofe smiled.

"Wait!" he said. "I have a surprise, some day!"

And one day, months later, he took them to a special room in the great Museum of Sciences, where stood the Rogue Elephant as he had stood on that last day of his life; beneath, on the great brass plate at the bottom, were these words:

Elephas Africanus Peeli

SHOT BY CHARLES COLLINS AND JACK SAWTOOTH.

Mounted by Gross von Hofe, F. R. S.



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2. THE STOLEN AEROPLANE Or, How Bud Wilson Made Good

3. THE AEROPLANE EXPRESS Or, The Boy Aeronaut's Grit

4. THE BOY AERONAUTS' CLUB Or, Flying for Fun

5. A CRUISE IN THE SKY Or, the Legend of the Great Pink Pearl

6. BATTLING THE BIGHORN Or, The Aeroplane in the Rockies

7. WHEN SCOUT MEETS SCOUT Or, The Aeroplane Spy

8. ON THE EDGE OF THE ARCTIC Or, An Aeroplane in Snowland

Fully illustrated. Colored frontispiece. Cloth 12mo. 60 cents each.

* * * * *

Publishers The Reilly & Britton Co. Chicago

* * * * *

Transcriber's Notes:

Obvious punctuation errors repaired.

Page 3, "reak" changed to "reek" (the reek of cedar)

Page 19, "wierd" changed to "weird" (in weird-looking)

Page 29, "surpise" changed to "surprise" (his vast surprise)

Page 90, "botton" changed to "bottom" (at the bottom)

Page 131, "Ghobal" changed to Gholab" (then Gholab Singh, Mohammedan)

Page 136, "though" changed to "thought" (I thought camels)

Page 207, "shoud" changed to "should" (we should not share)

"Charley" was changed to "Charlie" to fit rest of 308 uses in the text.

15: Charlie paused and 84: Charlie had stepped 90: thrust forward. Charlie Charlie sank down 91: Charlie nodded. 97: Charlie. "This looks 100: Quilqua?" asked Charlie. 177: began Charlie, but the

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