After putting the village behind them, the party settled down to continuous travel, for the big game country for which Mr. Hampton was heading lay ten days travel to the northwest. The marches were made in the early morning and late afternoon. During the heat of the day, there was a halt of four hours, as travel would have been too arduous and, indeed, dangerous in the extreme under that blazing sun.
Hot though the days were, however, the nights were cool. And so the boys hot only managed to hold out without falling ill, but even enjoyed the trip. Their irrepressible spirits, moreover, came to the fore. And on several occasions they played practical jokes on each other which were the cause of much laughter on the part of Mr. Hampton and Niellsen.
One such occurred after they had been on the march more than a week and were encamped one night near the bank of a river on the edge of the big game country.
The day had been hot and breathless, but the night had turned cool. And after camp was pitched, the boys with Mr. Hampton and Niellsen were gathered about a camp fire not far from their tent. Niellsen who had taken motion pictures in many out-of-the-way corners of the world had been telling of some of his experience.
“And so,” he concluded, “when I turned back my bed before jumping in that night, I found a puff-adder all curled up nicely there for a snooze. You fellows have often asked me why I always look into my bed before hopping in. Well, that’s the reason.”
“Brrr,” shuddered Bob, “if there’s anything I detest it’s a snake. And puff-adders are the deadliest in the world, aren’t they?”
“They are that,” said Niellsen, emphatically. “While that is true, though,” added Mr. Hampton, “yet the deaths from snake bites are remarkably few in Africa. The natives have various antidotes. And many a man who has been bitten by one or other of the various poisonous snakes of Africa, even by the puff-adder, has failed to die of his injury. However, I for one have no desire to be bitten. Well, let’s turn in, fellows. We want to make an early start tomorrow and try and find some place where we can ford this river.”
Then, noting with surprise the absence of Jack and Frank, whom he had failed to see slip away several minutes before, he asked what had become of them. But so quiet had been their departure that neither of the others had noted it.
“Maybe they’ve already turned in,” said Niellsen, getting up and stretching.
All three set out for their tents, and a look into that shared by the three boys showed Jack and Frank already snuggled down in their “flea” bags.