The blacks raised a shout of joy but only for an instant. At the sudden firing shrill trumpeting and crashing had gone up from the herd in front, and another bull appeared in the path in full charge. Trees, matted creepers and bushes went down before him and for an instant the little group stood paralyzed with the sudden danger. Then Burt raised his rifle and fired. His bullet was wildly aimed but proved lucky, for it struck the elephant in the eye and penetrated the brain. He staggered forward another step and then rolled over just as the others fired.
"Good for you!" cried Mr. Wallace. He gripped Burt's hand and shook it heartily, as did Captain Mac. Critch pounded his chum on the back in an ecstasy of delight. The herd had crashed away and was gone, and as one of the bearers was carrying the camera, Burt and Critch got some views of the dead elephants, after which the hunters took out their knives.
The hides were disregarded as not worth the effort of preparing. The tusks were cut out and the feet were taken off to be served up by John as the most delicate of jungle dishes. Then the local blacks fell to work and cut up the rest of the carcasses for home consumption. It was about noon, so Mr. Wallace decided that they would return to their camp and follow the herd another day.
"This is good country," he said as they walked along. "Between hunting and trading we ought to get a nice lot of ivory together pretty soon. I think I'll make a permanent camp just outside the town and not go in any farther, Montenay."
Captain Mac merely nodded. He remained very silent, however, on the return trip. When they got home the tusks were weighed and it was found that the smaller bull, the first to appear, carried one hundred and ten pounds of ivory.
The larger, which Burt had killed, was a good deal older and his tusks weighed twenty pounds more.
"That's big ivory, lad," said Montenay as they sat down to their postponed lunch in the afternoon. "It ain't often ye'll get beasts carryin' more'n a hundred thirty. 'Cept, o' course, some old chap who's wandered off by himself an' kept the blacks too scared to be huntin' him. I mind once I dropped just such an old bull down south an' got a hundred seventy—nigh to bein' a record."
"It was a mighty lucky shot," laughed Burt. "I just threw her up an' let go 'cause I was too scared to aim. Goin' out to-morrow?"
"Since ye're goin' to camp here permanent," returned Captain Mac, addressing Mr. Wallace, "I'm thinkin' I'll be takin' a little hike into the woods. I'll take a score o' the boys an' be back in a week."
"No, you won't." Without the least trace of excitement in his voice Mr. Wallace whipped out his revolver and covered the other. "Keep your hands on the table, Montenay! Burt, remove the captain's gun."