The start was made early. First went Schoverling, von Hofe and the boys, with the guides and gun-bearers. Then the Masai marched along, followed by the crowd of natives. So far they had not struck the mountain slopes, and the Kikuyu led them deeper into the great African forest.

The sun was shut out above by the dew-wet foliage,—twisted vines, trees and bushes all matted together. The party traveled by means of old elephant trails, which alone made the jungle passable to man. Hour after hour they walked through the tangle of vegetation, striking into fresh paths, twisting and turning until the boys felt hopelessly lost.

Great ferns and mosses grew about them. Mighty trees with trunks corrugated and knotted towered overhead, draped with Spanish moss and filled with scampering, chattering monkeys. Into and across tree-ferned ravines, through dashing streams of icy water, past cataract and morass, the party plowed its devious way until long past noon.

Suddenly one of the guides held up a warning hand and slipped ahead. In a few moments he returned in great excitement.

"Elephant!" he whispered. "Him close! Come!"

No sign of elephant could Charlie or Jack see until they had advanced another hundred feet in the half-gloom. Then the guide pointed out the spoor, deep and heavy in the damp leaves that matted the trail. Here the natives squatted down to wait, and here also the boys made a discovery.

Charlie had stepped ahead, a little to one side of the trail. But as he did so the guides started forward in silent dismay. He paid no attention to them, trying to peer through the dense vegetation; suddenly it seemed that everything gave way beneath him, and the next moment his legs were dangling in vacancy, while he gripped the vines and sticks spread over a great hole dug at one side of the track.

The others broke into quiet laughter at his amazed expression, while the guides pulled him out hurriedly and silently. Then he saw that he had tumbled into an elephant pit—a long, deep trench, narrowing at the bottom.

"I told you you'd see something," whispered the explorer, as Charlie recovered himself, somewhat disgusted. "Now let's get busy on the trail."

By lighting a match and by watching the tree-tops far overhead they ascertained that the wind was right for an approach, and with guides and gun-bearers they started off on the spoor.

"How many, do you think?" asked Schoverling cautiously. Jack had been studying the signs intently, and answered without hesitation.

"About eight females, three little fellows, and a big chap."

"Just what the guides say," grinned the explorer delightedly. "Pretty good, eh, Doctor? We were lucky in finding them so near camp."

The trail was now marked by freshly broken branches and splintered trees, while in places the bushes were trampled down for yards, where an elephant had stopped to feed. Charlie declared that the animals were not more than half an hour ahead of them, at which the explorer nodded.

Dr. von Hofe had been sketching busily for some time, paying special attention to the spoor and the marks of feeding. He made careful photographs as they advanced, and as Charlie watched him he wondered at the painstaking efforts of the big German to get every smallest detail correctly. Then Schoverling beckoned, and the two boys slipped ahead with him, their moccasined feet as noiseless as the naked soles of the guides.

"Hear anything?" muttered the explorer when they had gone a hundred yards. Listening, Charlie could hear a faint crashing, and his heart leaped in excitement. Jack nodded also.

They went on, but now the noise grew plainer and seemed to come from one side. As they stood in perplexity, Charlie saw a single elephant track leading off ahead.

"General! One fellow has struck off through there—the others have doubled back, and are on one side of us. We could follow that single track."

A guide was sent back for the others, and now the gun-bearers handed over the heavy guns, retaining the thirty-thirties for emergencies. Slowly they crept forward in silence, while the gruntings, crashings, and rumblings of the great beasts came to them clearly. Cutting through the single track, they soon came upon the whole spoor of the herd again—but this time they knew that Charlie had been right, and that the beasts could not be far ahead.

So dense was the matted vegetation, however, that nothing could be seen. One of the guides pointed to a tree-trunk with his spear, and a thrill went through the boys at sight of the fresh-rubbed bark. From one side flew up a flock of hornbills, with squawkings and flappings of wings, but the slow movements of the elephants went on.

At this juncture the guides nimbly sidestepped any farther advance by going up trees like monkeys. They indicated that the herd was close at hand, and again the party stole forward, rifles ready for instant action.

"Makes you feel queer," murmured Jack in Charlie's ear, "to hear 'em and not be able to get a crack."

Every sense on the alert, Charlie gripped Schoverling's arm and pointed ahead. A long tendril of Spanish moss at a bend in the trail was shaking slightly, and without a sound the three stepped off the trail to one side, followed by the Indians. The doctor had remained some distance behind, to sketch a strange flower.

Something huge and shadowy appeared vaguely, and the hunters drew back farther still amid the tangle. Then there came a tremendous crash, and, at the side of the trail proper a sudden quivering seized the vegetation. At the same moment that the first elephant appeared leisurely, two more crashed from the undergrowth.

Schoverling cast a quick glance of warning and shook his head. The two who had burst through from the side stopped to feed, and after them came two calves. All three were cows, but there were crashings all around, and the Indians were as nervous as the two boys. They stuck to their post nobly, however, the smaller rifles ready. The explorer leaned over and breathed in Jack's ear.

"Give the two cows both barrels. I'll bag the calves."

Jack nodded and passed the word to Charlie. But slight as the breathed whisper had been, the sensitive ear of the elephants caught it and their heads went up. Without hesitation Charlie aimed at the eye of the cow on the right, and all three pulled trigger together.

Fortunately they stood at some distance apart, or the concussion of the three heavy guns would have worked sore damage. Charlie's cow shivered and went down at the first shot; that of Jack trumpeted loud and shrill and tried to whirl, but the second barrel, just back of the shoulder, finished her.

The General had given each calf a single barrel. One plunged to its knees, the other stood shivering. The boys felt the Indians press the lighter guns into their hands, as a great crashing arose ahead. The single cow in the trail proper was just turning, so rapidly had all passed, when Charlie and the General fired together. Both bullets struck her vitally, and she went down.

For an instant the forest was filled with shrill trumpetings and the earth seemed to shake beneath the tread of the frightened beasts. So loud was the clamor that there came not the slightest warning of their danger until the trees directly opposite them swayed and shattered apart, and the enormous head and tusks of a great bull shoved through.

There was no time to run, even had they been able. Jack let drive with both barrels of his 30-30, and the huge beast paused with the shock. In that brief instant the large guns, already reloaded by the agile bearers, were thrust forward. Charlie brought his up and fired just as the bull plunged on. The enormous trunk swept up and then down, hardly a yard in front of them. One step more, and he would be on them.

But even as the boys shrank aside instinctively, Schoverling fired deliberately, right and left. So close was the huge head that Charlie could distinctly see both bullets go home, each taking the bull in an eye fair and square.

It was enough. For a moment there was no movement—a little trickle of blood came from each eye—and then the mighty head dropped, the trunk swept down to the trail, and over went the tusker on his side, the last sweep of his trunk narrowly missing Guru as he leaped away.

"Jumping sandhills! I'm satisfied!"

Charlie sank down weakly on a fallen bamboo, gazing at the tremendous bulk five feet away. Jack, deadly pale, gripped his gun and waited while the crashings and trumpetings died away. The explorer, his deep bronze flushed with red, smiled and mopped his face.

"By George, that was a close thing, boys! I wouldn't go through that again for a million dollars cash." He turned and gripped the hands of the gun-bearers. "Guru, Amir, Akram, you are men! I am proud of you!"

"I guess we all owe you a vote of thanks, General," smiled Jack weakly. Charlie nodded.

"You bet! Jack and I both missed his eye—what dandy shots those were!"

The nervy Indians showed their white teeth at the praise showered on them, and a moment after, von Hofe appeared excitedly, followed by a stream of Masai and Kikuyu. These gave wild yells of excitement and leaped and danced on the fallen carcasses, while the story of that terrible moment was told the doctor. He could barely speak, as he realized what the danger had been.

"Himmel! Ach, er ist—it iss vonderful! Bang-bang, und you haf ein, zwei, drei cows, two calfs, und a bull killed! I shall no more say—ach! Avay—raus!"

And with a roar of anger he rushed at one of the Masai who had triumphantly thrust his long spear into the elephant's hide. The warrior gave one look, then vanished with a long leap, while the disgusted doctor pulled out the spear and flung it after him.

"Afraid they'll spoil your skin, eh?" laughed the explorer. The swift change from the tragic to the ridiculous restored them all to even balance once more, and they went forward to examine the kill. It was indeed a wonderful example of shooting, the whole affair having taken hardly more than two or three minutes, and Charlie found it hard to realize that in such a short space of time they had almost fulfilled the requirements of the whole world-over expedition.

The bull was a large, old fellow, and the General pronounced his tusks as weighing at least a hundred and thirty pounds each. It was a great piece of luck that he should have wandered out of the wilds almost to their side, for full-grown bulls with good tusks are rarely found. The big Teuton pronounced him exactly suitable for one of his groups.

The two cows who had been shot together were both of good size; the third was smaller. The two largest were selected for skinning, together with the calves. For a few moments the doctor sketched and photographed, then handed over the task of skinning to Guru and his two assistants, who were thoroughly qualified.

"Do you want to stay by them?" asked Schoverling. "If not, we might get back to camp by dark, and they can bring in the sections of skin."

"The Sikh knows all about it," replied von Hofe. "Yes, he will see that they are careful. Let us go back and rest."

As the explorer captured one of the guides and explained his wishes, the boys gazed at the scene before them. Stripped naked, the natives were swarming over the great carcasses, which had to be skinned without a moment's delay. Most of them were already splashed with blood, festoons of meat were dripping from the branches, and the busy hands and knives were making fast progress with the work. It was not a nice scene, and Charlie turned away; but Jack watched it until the explorer called him.

Carrying their own guns now, they found the trip back to camp a weary one. All were tired and hungry, not having eaten since morning, and it was dark when they finally stumbled into camp, to be met with exultant shouts. Runners had already come across the forest paths bearing loads of meat, and after a good wash in one of the mountain streams the four sat down to a delicious meal of broiled elephant's heart and flapjacks, with tea for beverage.

"Do you chaps realize that we almost accomplished the work of this expedition in about two minutes?" asked the General, smiling. The boys leaned back with a sigh of content.

"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.