"Guess they think we'll bring 'em good luck," grinned Jack. "Got your camera, Chuck?"
Charlie fortunately had brought it, and an hour later he put it into active operation, to the curiosity and childish amusement of the negroes. They had stopped in a little open space full of fresh spoor and elephant signs, and a score of natives were instantly at work clearing off the ground at three points. The boys were amazed at the rapidity with which the work was accomplished with the primitive implements. Chanting a loud, monotonous chorus, the natives threw themselves into the work and speedily had three pits started. These were about four feet wide and twelve long at the top.
"It's against the law for them to kill elephants," said Schoverling, "but they pay little enough heed to that. There are hundreds of these pits scattered between here and Kenia."
"How do they watch them all?" asked Charlie. "They must have an awful time keeping track of their trap-line!"
"They don't watch them," laughed the explorer. "They wait till they see the vultures and jackals heading somewhere, and trail along. An elephant lives for days after he is trapped, for you'll see that the pits narrow down at the bottom, and his feet are wedged in so that he can't move."
"He must be pretty ripe by the time they get to him," returned Jack disgustedly.
"They don't care for that. These Ndorobo are little better than carrion feeders anyway, and once an elephant is caught a whole village is stocked in meat for a long time."
As the holes were dug deeper, others of the natives carried off the dirt, scattering it carefully in the depths of the jungle. The boys secured some excellent views of the proceedings, but they were unable to remain for the entire digging. The finished pit would be about ten feet in depth, and at the bottom scarcely a foot wide. Fortunately for white hunters these pits were not staked, as after a week or two the slight covering of sticks, leaves and dirt is overlaid with vines and vegetation that completely conceals it from sight. Indeed, they had passed more than one pit on their way.
A guide was sent back with them when they left the scene of operation. A little after noon as they neared the safari they came upon a village which was in great excitement. The day before, a man had been killed and another badly gored by a bull buffalo, and the wounded man was then in camp under the doctor's care. The villagers appealed to the white men to kill the buffalo, and the latter needed little urging.
"You want to be careful," said Schoverling as they advanced on foot with some of the men. "A buffalo is about the most dangerous of beasts in these parts. Shoot to cripple him, never mind the head."