CHAPTER XIV
A STAMPEDE
“Look to your guns, everybody!” cautioned Mr. Durban. “It’s no joke to be caught in an elephant herd with an unloaded rifle. Have you plenty of ammunition, Mr. Damon?”
“Ammunition? Bless my powder bag, I think I have enough for all the elephants I’ll kill. If I get one of the big beasts I’ll be satisfied. Bless my piano keys! I think I see them, Tom!”
He pointed off through the thick jungle. Surely something was moving there amid the trees; great slate-colored bodies, massive forms and waving trunks! The trumpeting increased, and the crashing of the underbrush sounded louder and nearer.
“There they are!” cried Tom Swift joyously.
“Now for my first big game!” yelled Ned Newton.
“Take it easy,” advised Mr. Anderson. “Remember to aim for the spot I mentioned to you as being the best, just at the base of the skull. If you can’t make a head shot, or through the eye, try for the heart. But with the big bullets we have, almost any kind of a shot, near a vital spot, will answer.”
“And Tom can fire at their TOES and put them out of business,” declared Ned, who was eagerly advancing. “How about it, Tom?”