"Oh, shucks!" said Critch huskily. "You dog-goned idiot! You pretty near scared me to death. Didn't you hear me yell?"
"Didn't hear nothin'," Burt smiled weakly. "I was wishing I was back home and had never seen Africa. If you hadn't shot he'd got me—"
"Come out of it!" replied Critch. "He couldn't see you and was coming for me. Ain't he a big fellow?" As they walked over and stood beside the great black body that lay stretched in the grass with the Bantus around it, Mr. Wallace and Captain Mac ran up.
"What's this mean?" roared the former as he saw the body. "Haven't you two got sense enough to—"
"Leave 'em alone!" shouted Captain Mac delightedly. "They've killed him! Hurray!" The exuberant Scotchman seized Burt and whirled him around in a wild dance as the excited porters came up. Burt gave the honor to Critch and when he told of his narrow escape Mr. Wallace at once directed camp to be formed.
"Now see here," he ordered as the skinners collected around the body, "I've had enough of this business. After this you take Burt with you, Montenay, and I'll take Critch. Those young villains are crazy enough to do anything if we leave 'em alone. Understand, boys? If you chase off by yourselves you get sent back home."
Seeing that Mr. Wallace was thoroughly aroused and in earnest, the boys hastily promised that his orders would be obeyed in future. Then they examined the carcass of the rhinoceros carefully. Burt's first shot would have killed the beast in time but it was the two from Critch's rifle at close quarters that had proved fatal almost instantly. By that evening the Bantus had removed the skin from the rhino and were ready to pare it down for transportation.
"That'll take a couple of days anyway," said Mr. Wallace that night as they sat around the fire. "I think we might as well establish a camp here for a week, Montenay. We are right in the game country and I can get hold of all the specimens I want to send home while we are here, and get them safely off. Then we can strike on after ivory and see what we'll find."
"Suits me," returned Captain Mac. "Ye've done vera well, lads! The horn o' yon beast is eighteen inches."
"I'd kind o' like to keep the head, uncle," said Burt. "Critch an' I had a hard time gettin' him. We don't want the skin but we could set up the head back home an'—"