The professor was a curious sort of a man. Some people would have said that he was better fitted to become a village schoolmaster than to go roaming about the wilds of the interior of Africa.
Probably he was; but that is not for us to say now. True, the professor was not the bravest man on earth in the time of danger.
But Dr. Pestle! he was a regular cyclone when necessity demanded it. He could shoot as well as anybody in the party, and that is saying a great deal, for Van and Jack were excellent shots.
They managed to put in quite a comfortable night of it, and at the first signs of daylight they were up and ready to resume their journey.
They managed to make a light breakfast from some sardines and sea biscuit found in their knapsacks, which they ate as they made their way through the gully.
It did not take Van long to discover that they were following a dry water course, and he was soon surprised at seeing footprints in the sand and gravel it contained.
The footprints were made by men of civilized habits, too, for the tracks were those of boots or shoes.
"We are in luck!" our hero exclaimed. "Doc Clancy and his companion have gone this way. It will only be a question of time now before I will capture the scoundrel and force a written confession that he murdered my uncle from him."
"If you can get him to do that you will not have a great deal of trouble in taking him back to the United States," returned Jack Howard.