"I don't care," said Burt, "let's leave a couple o' men to skin him anyhow. Even black an' white ought to make a mighty fine trophy. Snake skin keeps better than fur, anyhow."
As Critch was also anxious to save the python skin, two of the Bantus were left to take it into camp while the party proceeded north.
They had marched for over an hour without any sign of elephant when one of Mvita's men appeared ahead. A number had been sent out from the village to locate the herd, if possible. The man, flourishing his spear, ran up and reported that before dawn he had heard loud trumpeting in the forest ahead, not over a mile distant.
"Good enough," exclaimed Mr. Wallace. "John, get these chaps spread out in a line across country, to drive in anything toward the center. You stick to me, though, and handle my guns."
"Yes, sar," came the reply. A moment later the party had scattered, the natives stretching out in a long thin line far to right and left. Once more the advance was taken up, and all trudged steadily forward for half a mile. It was exciting work, for at any moment the patches of small trees, high grass and rush might yield anything from an elephant to a lion. A very hopeful-looking thicket had just been beaten through without any luck, and the three whites sighted an open grassy glade which stretched away in front, when Mvita gave a low whistle and muttered to John. The latter instantly stopped his master. Parting the bushes cautiously and gazing out on the fairly open glade, all could see a good sized herd of wildebeest grazing a quarter of a mile away.
"We must have one of them," whispered Mr. Wallace, as the boys stared at the weird, bison-like animals eagerly. "We're down-wind, so I'll stalk 'em. Come on, John."
The two stole out cautiously, and began making a slow advance over the open space, hiding behind the ant hills and among the tall grass. Only the waving tops of the latter betrayed their presence, but just as the boys were expecting to hear a shot, Mvita touched Burt on the arm. One of his men had approached silently, and his face portended big tidings.
"What is it—elephant?" asked Burt. Mvita grinned and shook his head, then murmured one word.
"Simba!"