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.