"A buffalo," whispered Mr. Hume.
As the boat drifted slowly past, they watched the bright eyes, and the eyes of the animal followed them. Out of the intense blackness only those points were visible—the luminous eyes, the shining muzzle, and the tips of the horns. The rest was left to the imagination; yet the picture seemed to stand out of a shaggy forest bull, his fore feet on the brink of the water, and his head thrown up.
"What a picture for a flash-light photo!" muttered Venning, longingly.
"What a mark for a shot!" sighed Mr. Hume. "And red meat would be very welcome."'
As they slipped away the buffalo snorted, crashed into the forest, and battered his way on a course parallel to them to get another view of that mysterious light, for presently they heard his snort again. A little further on a bull hippo charged at them, but the glare of the light full in his eyes stopped him, and he remained open-mouthed, so that all they saw was a yawning gulf bristling with ivory. Mr. Hume, who had picked up his Express at the first snort, laid it down again with a laugh.
"Took the fight out of him that time, Venning; but it's a little risky."
"Keeps one wide awake, at any rate," said Compton.
"We'll continue for an hour or so and then tie up, for we may have a heavy day to-morrow."
For a couple of miles the boat felt its way through the dark without incident, and then the look-out signalled another discovery.
"Light ahead!"