Jack returning, white-faced now that he began to realize how close had been his escape from a horrible death, could not speak as he wrung big Bob’s hand. And the latter was still filled with nervous excitement himself.
They merely looked at each other, hands clasped, trying to grin, with Bob clutching his rifle and Jack his camera, until a rather hysterical cry of “Hold it,” from the rear caused them to swing about.
A score of feet away stood Frank, turning the crank of his camera. He stopped and leaving the machine in position approached his comrades.
“Picture of the slain monster and of his near-victim and the latter’s saviour exchanging pleasantries,” he said.
Then his tone sobered and grabbing Jack by the shoulders, he shook him fondly.
“You good-for-nothing rascal,” he said. “I almost died of heart failure when I saw you sticking to your post. From the rear it looked as if the rhino were running right over you. Then I saw you dash away to one side and, believe me, lad, that was the welcomest sight I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
Jack looked apologetic. “Sorry I caused you fellows any worry on my account,” he said. “The next time I’ll be more careful of your feelings.”
“And, oh, yes,” added Frank, as they approached the fallen rhinoceros and stood looking at his vast proportions, “I did what looked like a sort of heartless thing. Seeing I couldn’t be of any use, as I was without a rifle, I put down my camera, which I’d grabbed when running toward you, and started cranking.”
“But, say, that’s great,” cried Jack. “You got some of that charge yourself then, too?”
“I did that,” said Frank. “You obtained the picture of the rhino charging head-on. But I got a film of his charge on you, with you sticking to the camera until in another minute he’d have been upon you. And I got Bob running up and firing at the crucial moment, the rhino’s fall, and your handshake afterwards. Oh, I tell you, I got me some real films.”