As the tin-lined chop-boxes were emptied they were to be used for packing heads and skins of game and were thus doubly useful. The Bantus took out their knives and while Burt transmitted in French the orders of his chum they set to work. Mr. Wallace and Montenay returned to meet and bring up the caravan, whose advance was necessarily slow.
The skilled blacks first removed the two heads and skinned them carefully. Then they laid aside the skulls for boiling and cut up the three bodies to serve as rations for the porters while the boys stood looking around them. Although the great herds had bounded off at the volley, they had only gone a mile or two away and in the thin clear air seemed half that distance. Burt stood with his eyes glued to his glasses for a few moments, then saw a jackal a hundred yards to the right, slinking through the grass. As jackals are invariably destroyed wherever seen he called Critch and took a gun from the pile dropped by the bearers. Luckily for him he grabbed up one of the heavy Winchesters in his haste.
"Come on, Critch! Get over to that ant hill an' we'll bag him."
Not far from the jackal was one of the tall hills made by the white ants. As these are hard as rock and often eight or ten feet high they make excellent shelter for hunters. Critch caught up a gun and ran after Burt hastily.
When they reached the ant hill they located the jackal in a patch of brush below them. Only his head was visible, but the two boys aimed and fired together and he dropped.
"Bet I got him in the eye!" cried Critch as they ran toward the spot. "Got a dandy bead on him."
"Hello! What's that?" Burt stopped suddenly and pointed to a patch of trees a hundred yards farther on. Above the stunted growth they saw a number of little birds flying erratically about.
"Look at that—golly!" whispered Critch. "What's that big black thing—"
"Elephant!" returned Burt fumbling at his gun.
"Elephant nothing! Look at the birds—ain't any birds on elephants—it's a rhino! Come on!"