“Last night we saw a strange phosphorescence very near our camp,” his father resumed. “It shone quite brilliantly, and we weren’t able to tell what caused it. We played our flashlights on it, but could make out nothing. Some trick of nature, I suppose.”
“You weren’t the only ones to see mysterious things,” said Joe, and then told of the peculiar footprint and of the long spear that had so nearly ended his life.
When he had finished, the naturalists looked grave.
“You boys certainly had a thrilling experience,” Mr. Holton said. “Of course,” he went on, “there’s an explanation to everything that has happened. Whether we’ll be able to delve into it we have yet to see.”
“But there’s something else that will interest you,” put in Bob. “Joe and I shot a white pigmy elephant.”
“What? Not fooling us, are you?”
“Come, and we’ll show you,” said Bob, and led the way through the forest.
When they finally reached the spot, they found the boma just as they had built it. The carcass, however, had been torn to pieces by vultures and hyenas.
The youths removed the thorn and bramble bushes from the enclosure and then turned to get the elephant skin.
To their great surprise, it was gone!