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Page 46
"Let her go!" suddenly cried Mr. Durban, and they took aim.
There was a fusillade of reports and several of the big brutes
toppled over.
"Bless my toothbrush!" cried Mr. Damon, "that's the time I got one!"
"Yes, and a fine specimen, too!" added Mr. Durban, who had only
succeeded in downing a small bull, with an indifferent pair of
tusks. "A fine speciment, Mr. Damon, I congratulate you!"
As for Tom Swift, he had killed two of the largest elephants in the
herd.
But now the hunters had their work cut out for them, since the
beasts had taken fright and were charging away at what seemed an
awkward gait, but which, nevertheless, took them rapidly over the
ground.
"Come on!" cried Mr. Durban. "We must get some more. Some of the
finest tusks I have ever seen are running away from us!"
He began to race after the retreating herd, but it is doubtful if he
would have caught up to them had not a band of natives, who had
crept up and surrounded the beasts, turned them by shouts and the
beating of tom-toms. Seeing an enemy in front of them, the elephants
turned, and our friends were able to get in several more shots. Tom
Swift picked out only those with immense tusks, and soon had several
to his credit. Ned Newton also bagged some prizes.
But finally the elephants, driven to madness by the firing and the
yells of the natives, broke through the line of black men, and
charged off into the jungle, where it was not only useless but
dangerous to follow them.
"Well, we have enough," said Mr. Durban, and when the tusks had been
collected it was found that indeed a magnificent and valuable supply
had been gathered.
"But I have yet to get my prize ones," said the old hunter with a
sigh. "Maybe we'll find the elephant with them when we locate the
red pygmies."
"If we do, we'll have our work cut out for us," declared Tom.
As on the other occasion after the hunt, there was a great feast for
the natives, who invited tribes from miles around, and for two days,
while the tusks were being cut out and cleaned, there were barbeques
on every side.
It was one afternoon, when they were seated in the shade of the
airship, cleaning their guns, and discussing the plans they had best
follow next, that our travellers suddenly heard a great commotion
amongst the Africans, who had for the past hour been very quiet,
most of them sleeping after the feasts. They yelled and shouted, and
began to beat their drums.
"Something is coming," said Ned.
"Perhaps there's going to be a fight," suggested Tom.
"Maybe it's the red pygmies," said Mr. Damon. "Bless my--"
But what he was going to bless he did not say, for at that instant
it seemed as if every native in sight suddenly disappeared, almost
like magic. They sank down into the grass, darted into their huts,
or hid in the tall grass.
"What can it be?" cried Tom, as he looked to see that his rifle was
in working order.
"Some enemy," declared Mr. Anderson.
"There they are!" cried Ned Newton, and as he spoke there burst into
view, coming from the tall grass that covered the plain about the
village, a herd of savage, wild buffaloes. On rushed the shaggy
creatures, their long, sharp horns seeming like waving spears as
they advanced.
"Here's more sport!" cried Tom.
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