CHAPTER II
OFF FOR THE FRONT
The enthusiastic boys reached New York long before the three weeks were up, but the General—as they came to call him, like everyone else—was not in evidence. He had left letters for them at the Explorers' Club, however, and had arranged for them to get a room there until his arrival.
At two minutes to twelve some days later he stepped out of the elevator and entered the library, where Charlie and Jack were waiting in no little dismay. The meeting was a joyful one all around.
"Me?" laughed the General, in answer to their rapid-fire questions. "Oh, I've been in Washington, getting some letters to pave the way for us. But where's von Hofe? He was to meet us at noon."
"Well, is he not here?" came a heavy voice from behind, and von Hofe entered with a broad smile on his bearded face. "You did not say five minutes before the hour, or one minute after the hour, so that I came on the hour—ach! Let go mine hant! I am a man, not a wood or stone image!"
Neither Charlie nor Jack had known, of course, who was behind the expedition, for the General had omitted any mention of von Hofe in his haste. But as it chanced, Charlie had been reading an article that morning which described the wonderful work done by von Hofe, and his contributions to science. So, when Schoverling introduced him, the astonished Charlie let out his accustomed expression, as he shook hands.
"Jumping sandhills! Are you the chap I was reading about this morning—the man who makes photos and sketches of animals before they're shot an' then mounts 'em the same way? Was it you who swiped the skin of a sacred white elephant out o' Siam, an'—"
"Ach, what liars these newspapers are!" But the steel-blue eyes twinkled forth from beneath the bushy yellow-gray brows, and Charlie's heart leaped as he realized that this great man must be going with them.
"You are not such foolish looking boys," decided the German, nodding his head. "Herr Schoverling, they haf the look in the eyes, the look of the dependable-upon men. I apologize. You are not crazy as a loon. Now we haf much to talk over, and we are hungry, I hope?"
"We certainly are," smiled the General, leading the way toward a private dining room which was reserved for them. Jack whispered delightedly in his friend's ear as they followed, "You catch-um that beard?"
Charlie grinned at the Chinook expression and nodded.
"He's a peach, Jack! Say, we're goin' to have the time of our lives, believe me!"
Luncheon was devoted to story-telling. Schoverling related tales of his adventures when he had joined the H. B. C. in Canada as a boy, serving his four years; the doctor jovially gave the story of certain adventures in South Africa, and Jack chipped in with a relation of Indian legend from the far north, relating to the mammoths which were said to be still alive somewhere in the frozen regions. This last, which was backed up by the explorer, interested von Hofe immensely; but at length the meal was done with, the table cleared, and they were alone with their coffee.
Schoverling drew forth a huge map, which he spread out on the table. On it was a route heavily marked in red ink, and he pointed to this as he spoke.
"I got this map from a friend of mine, in Washington at present, who was up there last year stealing ivory. It's not considered at all bad, boys, among a certain class of hunters, to make a raid into the protected regions and loot all the tusks they can get. Well, this is the latest map of British East Africa, divested of all that is thrown in by chaps who like to fill up blank spaces with names.
"Down here south and east of Lake Rudolph, you see, is the Northern Game Preserve. It is more or less indefinite, extending up to the Abyssinian border. This chap I'm speaking of went dead across it, as you can see. Incidentally, he landed in Abyssinia, which is another story.
"Now, Dr. von Hofe and I have secured permits to get the beasts we are after for scientific purposes. Coming back to the Uganda Railway, here is Nairobi, you see. We'll go just where this friend of mine went—on to Nakuro, then up to the Leikipia hills and through them into the Game Preserve—"
"To Abyssinia?" cried Charlie, leaning forward "Are we going—"
"We are nod," interrupted von Hofe, his deep voice roaring through his meerschaum smoke. "You will keep very still, if you please!"
Charlie was undecided whether to resent it or not, until he caught a wink from Jack and his quick anger was dissipated instantly.
"No," smiled the General, "we need not fear to return through British territory, for our permits are pretty general. Now let's get back to this map. Here is Mt. Marsabit, straight north of Kenia. Midway between the two we will branch off my friend's route and go over toward the Lorian Swamp. That's unknown country, except to the ivory raiders, and they keep their mouths shut; but that's where the elephants are.
"Does that suit you, Doctor? We could stick closer to civilization, of course, but we wouldn't get the big bulls. Besides, I'd like to do a bit of exploring in there. Some mighty queer yarns have come out of that country lately."
The big Teuton emitted a dense cloud of smoke before answering.
"You are not to worry about suiting me, my friend. What I want is bulls, such bulls as have never come to this country. Perhaps I will change my mind and go to the North Pole for those mammoth. Ach, what a thing! To bring a mammoth down, skin him, photograph him, mount him for the Smithsonian! What more could a man want?"
"Bosh!" exclaimed the General. "That's all been exploded long ago. Now, we're going to cut out the usual gang of porters and chiefs. I guess we can get along from village to village well enough. Bring those traps and moccasins, boys?"
"They're up in our rooms," answered Jack. "How about clothes?"
"All gone on board ship," smiled Schoverling. Charlie had already noted his appreciative glance at their first meeting, and Jack was now feeling quite at home in his new garments.
They were going from New York straight to Alexandria on a steamer of a Greek line, which would give the boys a brief glimpse of Athens en route. At Alexandria they would pick up an East Coast steamer to Mombasa.
With this the discussion was closed, but Charlie and Jack put forth an eager question as to their armament, which they had more than once discussed in wild anticipation. The General smiled, comprehending their eagerness.
"The doctor has absolutely refused to touch a gun from start to finish, boys, so that puts it up to us. I had everything we would need. There is a double-barrelled 500-405 Holland for each of us—which of course we won't use on anything but elephants. Two of them are mine, and one was loaned me for the trip. For ordinary use we will carry our 30-30s, and a number twelve shotgun. Those, with a suit case each, make up all our luggage. Any trunks, Doctor?"
"Trunks?" The blond German glared over his beard in surprise. "Would I preserve elephant hide with air? No, but I have eleven cases of chemicals, which you must take."
"Very well—that will make about twenty porters," commented the explorer quietly. "I think we'll have a mighty interesting time if we carry out my original program of living off the country. Anything more to settle?"
As nothing more seemed to present itself, the meeting was declared adjourned. Von Hofe shook hands with the boys, put away his big pipe, and retired to write some letters. As both Charlie and Jack had seen all of New York that they cared about, Mr. Schoverling spent the afternoon at the club with them, showing and explaining the cases full of savage arms, relics and curios which had been contributed by the explorers and scientists who formed the club. He introduced them to many of its famous members, a few of whom they had already met while waiting for him. It was an informal, cosy place, and during their stay the boys enjoyed themselves immensely.
As the news spread about of the General's proposed trip, a number of men who had been in Africa promptly carried all three off to the library and there ensued a high discussion. Most of them flatly declared that living on the land might be possible, but that moccasins and traps were absurd.
"But why?" laughed the General. "You fellows wear puttees and leather breeches to keep dry, and safe from scratches or snakes. Moccasins are equally as good, especially high ones like ours, and a whole lot more comfortable. You chaps who go in for big game with all the comforts of home don't know what real work is like!"
This good-natured taunt happened to hit most of those around, and the situation looked stormy until a little, awkward-looking man strolled up and joined in.
"Nonsense!" His irritated voice shrilled high above the rest. "Shut up, you fools! Why, what do you know about East Africa? When I tramped from Fort Rosebury to Kituta in my bare hide I got nothing worse than mosquito bites, and I've had to make moccasins many a time or go barefoot. I'm leaving this afternoon for Africa; how many of you chaps want to go with me? Don't all speak at once, please."
Charlie stared, expecting to see the little, bitter-tongued man mobbed. But to his vast surprise not a word was said, and the dilettante hunters faded away one by one. The little man turned to Schoverling with a bristling laugh of delight.
"See 'em run, General? Going in, I hear."
"Boys, I'd like to have you meet Mr. Mowbray," said the explorer, introducing the two. "You aren't going to British territory, I suppose?"
"Never you mind, my son," snapped the little man. "Give me back my map. Just got in from Washington an hour ago, and leave in another hour. I'll need that map worse than you will—got wind of something big."
As Schoverling pulled out the folded map and handed it over, Mowbray lowered his voice.
"I'll beat you there by some time, old boy, but I'll be around. Let you in on it, if I can't handle it. Good-looking boys, there. Keep your ears open for a nigger who says 'Me debbil man.' You can trust him. Got to go, General. Mighty glad to have met you, boys—see you later, maybe. Besselama!"
"Jumping sandhills!" ejaculated Charlie. "Who's he? A grand mogul around here? What's that last word mean?"
"Arabic for 'so-long,'" smiled the General.
"What made 'em all shut up when he handed it to them?" inquired Jack curiously.
"That's the chap, of course, who lent me the map, boys." And the General spoke very seriously. "You must never repeat what he said to a soul, or mention his name. In British Africa they have hunted him for years, by regiments; there's a price on his head of some thousands of pounds, and he's slipped into and out of the country whenever he liked. He's defeated the Somali troops and even the white regulars time and again, and no one knows how he gets into the ivory country. He does it for sheer love of the game, for he has a fortune of his own."
"You mean," asked the puzzled and wondering Charlie, "that he's one of the ivory raiders?"
"He's the ivory raider of them all," nodded Schoverling, "and the biggest man in the club here. For all his scornful words, not a man there but would bite off his tongue sooner than repeat that Mowbray was starting for Africa to-day. Why, the British would pay a thousand pounds for those half-dozen words! Now just forget it, boys."
Forget it! It was a long time before Charlie ever forgot the sight of that little man, and the time came when he was to remember him more vividly still, as was Jack also. Neither of them gave any thought to the muttered "Me debbil man." If Schoverling did, he betrayed no inkling of it through his bronzed mask of a face.
That night they were aboard the steamer. During the days that followed Charlie enjoyed every minute of the time, as did Jack also. But they were both accustomed to hard work, and the luxuries of civilization, where everything was done for them, soon grew monotonous. When they had gone over their beloved guns, oiling every inch, and received instructions for the use of the few simple medicines taken along, there was little to do except to read up on Africa, which labor they threw themselves into gladly.
They saw little of von Hofe on the way over, for he was busy on some chemical experiments; but the day before they reached Gibraltar a strange odor, which permeated the whole ship, drew down on him the wrath of the captain, after which the big Teuton abandoned his beloved mixtures.
The whole voyage to Port Said was uneventful in actual happenings. But at Port Said they went aboard the Mombasa, and off Aden they had the pleasure of meeting the gentlemanly Selim ben Amoud, and of first hearing of the Magic Lake and its mysterious Rogue Elephant guardian.