All during the hunt the adventurers could hear the deep vibrating of drums, but as it seemed to get no nearer they thought no more about it.
Back at camp they saw a group of strange natives, their faces streaked with white paint, talking with Noko and the bearers. At first the explorers hesitated to move on into camp for fear that trouble was at hand. But they finally concluded that it would be safe.
“What’s up, Noko?” inquired Mr. Holton.
The tall black seemed glad his masters had returned.
“Him want sell you um kidogo [little] white elephant skin,” Noko said.
“A white elephant skin?” demanded Bob suddenly. “Let’s see it.”
The natives seemed to regard the youths in some surprise. But they soon did as asked, producing the white elephant skin.
At sight of it Bob and Joe uttered startled exclamations.
“Why, that’s the one we killed!” cried Bob angrily. “See. There’s where our bullets entered the head.”
“You’re right, Bob,” said Mr. Lewis, after a moment of examining the skin.