Foster James H.
The Forest of Mystery
CHAPTER XXI
Two Ferocious Specimens
“WHAT do you mean by that remark, Mr. Lewis?” asked Bob wonderingly. “Why won’t the lion eat all he wants?”
“Simply that he won’t live long enough,” was the answer.
“What? You mean we’re going to shoot him?” persisted Bob.
“Exactly,” Joe’s father said. “We’ll build a boma– that’s a thorn enclosure – and hide behind it. Then when the lion comes to devour this carcass we’ll pot him off. Howard and I would like especially to have a good lion skin, and this seems to be a wonderful opportunity. Of course, the museum wants several, but whether they get that many we’ll have to wait and see.”
Under the naturalists’ directions they set about constructing the thorn enclosure. They built this but a short distance from the kill, so as to get a good view of the lion when and if the latter should return. The task was completed just before dusk.
A cold supper was served, so as to prevent the possibility of a fire frightening the lion if it should be in that vicinity. Then, rising from the meal, the explorers made their way to the boma.
“You know,” began Mr. Holton uneasily, “I feel a little ashamed to hunt that animal this way. This sort of thing is generally considered unsportsmanlike.”
“True,” Joe’s father said at once. “But still, chances like this don’t come often. And when at very infrequent intervals they do come, I’m in favor of taking advantage of them.”
As the darkness closed in on them, Bob held his rifle tighter, Joe focused the movie camera. Mr. Lewis and Mr. Holton, too, waited breathlessly.
Soon a majestic moon rose over the vast wilderness, making it almost as light as day. The rustling of the wind gave way to a chorus of wild animal screams.
Suddenly Bob and Joe heard something that struck terror to their hearts. It was the most hideous sound they had ever listened to.
“Wh-what was that?” demanded Joe breathlessly.
“Only a hyena,” returned his father. “That’s what they call the laughing of the hyena. It isn’t often that one can hear it.”
Mr. Lewis pointed to something not five feet away.
There, making its way slowly toward the carcass, was a large jackal, which was soon joined by three others. They were moving stealthily, as though undecided whether to sample the dead wildebeest.
“Look,” whispered Bob. “There are two hyenas. They’re going to risk eating, I guess.”
The jackals and hyenas formed a circle about the carcass and began to tear away at the flesh. Near as they were to the boma, they could easily have been shot by the hunters.
“If the lion doesn’t hurry there won’t be anything left for him,” whispered Bob.
“Maybe he’s forgotten all about coming,” suggested Joe, who was filming the scene.
Mr. Holton shook his head.
“He’ll be here,” the naturalist said. “Just taking his time, that’s all.”
As the minutes wore on, the waiting hunters were becoming more impatient. They twisted about uneasily, hoping that before long something would happen. Then it did.
“Listen!” hissed Mr. Holton. “Something’s coming this way. Hear it?”
“What is it?” inquired Joe.
Before anyone could attempt to answer, there came a terrible growl, and the next moment a huge lion broke through the foliage of the near-by jungle. It rushed angrily at the circle of jackals and hyenas.
The latter saw it coming and at once took flight, all escaping but one big hyena.
With a tremendous blow of one of its huge claws, the lion broke the hyena’s back and sent it rolling over the ground. With a convulsive twitch it straightened out, dead.
The breathless hunters had watched the tragedy with a terrible fascination, keeping on the alert for any emergency. All knew there was a possibility that the lion might catch their scent, even though there was little or no wind. It was this that made the naturalists and Bob tighten their grips on their rifles.
With a deep, vibrating roar that seemed to roll along the ground, the lion looked around defiantly. Then, apparently satisfied that nothing was near to disturb him, he bent his efforts toward eating the carcass.
“Get ready,” said Mr. Holton in a very low whisper, throwing his gun to his shoulder. “When I give the word, fire.”
Bob aimed carefully at the beast’s heart; Joe cranked away at the movie camera.
“Fire!” said Mr. Holton in a loud voice.
Three rifle shots rent the air. The lion turned on the instant, then collapsed in a heap.
“Hurrah!” yelled Joe, jumping to his feet. “Killed him dead as a door nail. Good – ”
“Look out!” shouted Mr. Lewis suddenly. “There’s another. A lioness!”
Bob worked furiously to push the bolt on his rifle. But before he had done so, the guns of his father and Mr. Lewis spoke.
The bullets stopped the brute for only a second. Then, with a horrible roar, it plunged toward the boma. Before the two naturalists could again aim and fire, it would be upon them!
Then, when things hung in the balance, Bob pulled the trigger.
There was a convulsive leap as the lioness groaned out her last breath. She fell to the ground with a dull thud and lay still.
“Good work,” commented Joe. “That bullet of yours came in just at the right time.”
“It certainly did,” put in Mr. Lewis. “Of course, Howard and I might have gotten her, but then again, we might not.”
As an added precaution, the naturalists put another bullet into each of the lions. After waiting a few moments for any more of the big beasts to appear, they went out to examine the ones they had killed.
“Whoppers, all right,” remarked Joe. “This big one here must be at least nine feet long from the tip of his nose to the end of his tail.”
“Both are unusually fine specimens,” declared Mr. Lewis, as he removed his long hunting knife.
The Americans were soon joined by Noko and several of the bearers, who were attracted to the scene by the rifle shots.
Noko uttered a cry of surprise at the sight of the beasts.
“Um big simba,” he said, his eyes on the dead lions. “Dey bad simba. Um very bad.”
“Bad’s the right word for it,” said Joe gravely. “They wouldn’t have left a grease spot of us if given the chance. But they’ll not cause any trouble now.”
It required a long while for the scientists to complete the task of skinning the lions, but at last they finished and moved back to camp.
The whites received much praise from the bearers, who recognized at once that the brutes had been unusually dangerous. The blacks’ respect for the hunters appeared to be increased greatly. For anyone who could bring down such vicious adversaries as these must be fearless and daring.
The youths and their fathers did not remain up much longer. After the strenuous day they were more than ready for a good rest.
“Sleep well,” was the last Mr. Lewis said as he repaired to the tent.
But somehow Bob did not sleep well. Try as he did he could not divert his thoughts from the exciting lion hunt. True, he was sleepy and somewhat tired, but notwithstanding this he could not keep his eyelids closed.
He thought of going out to join the askari, or native guard, who was keeping watch some thirty feet away. But he changed his mind and decided to make another attempt to fall asleep.
Suddenly he sat up with a start, straining his eyes to make out the jungle more easily. What was that he had heard? It sounded like stealthily moving feet.
“Maybe there’s another lion prowling around,” the youth thought, picking up his rifle.
CHAPTER XXII
A Pitiful Sight
WITH the passing moments, the padding noise grew louder. Bob raised his rifle to fire. If any wild beast was intent upon charging camp, he would be ready to give it a royal welcome, the youth thought.
Then he caught sight of what resembled two luminous beads. They were slowly moving closer to the camp.
As Bob watched, he saw that a huge hyena was making its way toward the two lion skins. The beast probably intended to grab the trophies in its powerful jaws and flee.
“Here goes,” Bob murmured, and taking careful aim at the hyena he fired.
At once the brute stiffened out and then lay still. The bullet had done its work well, entering the brain.
Mr. Lewis and Mr. Holton came running out, followed by Noko and several others. They looked inquiringly at Bob.
“What happened?” asked Joe, who had also been aroused.
“Nothing much,” laughed Bob. “I shot a hyena, that was all. It was going after those lion skins.”
“Hmm. Good work, Son.” Mr. Holton stooped over to examine the body of the hyena.
“Thought you were asleep, you rascal,” chuckled Mr. Lewis.
“Somehow I couldn’t keep from thinking about shooting those lions,” said Bob. “I had a notion to get up and walk around a little, but finally decided to stay where I was. Then I heard the hyena.”
The youths and their fathers again retired, after the latter had instructed the guard to keep a close watch for any other night marauders.
But nothing further disturbed the peace, and they awoke the next morning ready for anything the day might bring.
Breakfast over, the safari again took up its long journey.
As the explorers penetrated deeper into the African wilds they saw new and marvelous sights: strange rocky formations; tall, flowering trees; unusual animals. It seemed to Bob and Joe that every minute was a bit more exciting than the one preceding it. One day they left a long stretch of jungle behind and found themselves on a wide level plain.
“Look over there and tell me what you see,” said Joe to his chum.
“Why – it’s a herd of elephants!” gasped Bob. “Look, Mr. Lewis, Dad!”
“Wonderful sight, isn’t it?” Mr. Holton gazed in interest.
The naturalists decided to make camp on the plain, so as to get a short rest before again entering the jungle. Then, when the hot afternoon sun would become less oppressive, they would plunge on toward the Forest of Mystery.
“While you’re resting here, suppose Joe and I explore around a little,” said Bob, picking up his rifle.
“We-ll – all right, boys,” returned Mr. Holton, with a look at Joe’s father. “But don’t take any chances. And don’t wander too far from camp.”
Glad of the chance to be on their own, the chums walked over the plain toward the herd of distant animals.
“Maybe we can plug an elephant,” grinned Joe, “purring” the movie camera.
“Maybe,” came from the other. “But then maybe not. It would be dangerous to tackle that herd single-handed. Suppose they’d charge us. Then where would we be?”
“Probably on our faces in the dirt,” Joe said. “Or perhaps” – grinning – “flying through the air.”
“Doesn’t sound very nice, does it?” asked Bob. “No, we’d better be content to watch those elephants from a safe distance.”
“Shucks!” Joe frowned. “I want pictures of them. How am I going to get them without getting close?”
“All right. Have it your own way. But I’m not going to take any chances.”
Cautiously the boys stalked through the high grass toward the elephant herd. Luckily the wind was blowing in their faces, so that the elephants did not catch the human scent. And as these huge brutes have comparatively short eyesight, the chums were able to move very close.
“How’s this?” asked Bob.
“Up a little farther,” urged Joe, holding the camera ready.
They were within twenty yards of the huge lumbering beasts and were naturally looking on with great interest.
There was a thick growth of tall bushes a little to one side. Joe suggested that they plunge into this so as to be able to get nearer to the elephants.
Then they heard a loud crashing noise, the sound of a heavy body plunging through the brush. It was coming from around a bend in a narrow trail.
“What’s that?” Bob stopped and listened.
“More than I know. Maybe some wild animal. Sounds – Look out, Bob! a big elephant!”
There was terror in Joe’s voice. He looked to his chum to use his rifle.
A second later the huge head of a charging elephant appeared, its trunk thrown into the air, its eyes glaring. It must have been over ten feet high, for it towered far above the two youths.
Acting on the instant, Bob and Joe darted quickly to one side, their only thought being safety from grave danger.
Bob threw his rifle to his shoulder and fired.
“You got him!” cried Joe. “But it doesn’t seem to stop him.”
“Hide’s too tough,” his chum said.
The charging beast could not turn as quickly as did the youths. It went plunging on through the bushes. Apparently it had no intention of seeking out its enemies, for it continued through the heavy growth and disappeared behind a low spreading tree.
Bob and Joe were in a state of high excitement after their thrilling encounter. Perspiration was dripping from their bodies; their breath was coming in short gasps.
“Too bad I was too scared to take movies of that charge,” moaned Joe. “They’d sure have been interesting.”
“You ought to be glad you’re here,” said Bob. “Let’s get back to the safari.”
The chums had not gone far on the plain when they met their fathers and Noko, who had set out to secure a better view of the distant herd of elephants.
“We heard a rifle shot,” said Mr. Lewis. “What was the meaning of it?”
The youths looked at each other. They had been a bit foolish in moving so close to the elephants, especially since neither carried a rifle large enough to be effective against such large brutes.
“An elephant charged us,” said Bob at last.
“He did? Tell us about it.” Mr. Holton’s interest was aroused at once.
Aided by his friend, Bob related the encounter as accurately as he could.
When he had finished, the naturalists looked grave.
“You shouldn’t take chances like that, boys,” Mr. Holton said. “Luck can’t hold out forever, you know.”
They trekked back to camp, where they remained for a few hours longer. Then, thoroughly refreshed, they resumed the march.
Farther on, the youths caught sight of a large group of giraffes which towered above the small, stunted trees about them. Other, more graceful, animals could be seen.
The explorers emerged from a dense growth of bushes when they suddenly saw something that moved them to pity.
Standing unsteadily, its legs trembling, its eyes glazed, was a large eland, which was evidently at the point of death. The poor animal remained on its feet only with the greatest of difficulty.
But something else caused the explorers to be still more touched. Three vultures were circling around the stricken animal, waiting for it to fall.
“Look over there,” murmured Bob, pointing to something at the edge of the bushes.
A trio of hyenas was also waiting silently for the eland to die. They never took their eyes from the animal, although they made no move to action.
“There’s work here,” said Mr. Lewis, raising his rifle. “We must put that poor animal out of its misery.”
“And I’m going to plug those doggone hyenas,” muttered Bob.
CHAPTER XXIII
Moments of Horror
TWO reports rent the air. Without an outcry the big eland collapsed. A hyena, too, had been hit by Bob’s rifle.
“One good turn done,” said Mr. Lewis, handing his rifle to his gun bearer.
“Wait till I shoot the rest of those hyenas,” came from Bob, who was taking aim with a high-velocity .22 rifle.
“Um get bigger gun. No kill um with little gun.” Noko was watching Bob curiously.
“Watch me and see,” smiled Bob.
Using his knowledge of marksmanship, the youth killed all of the hyenas by sending bullets through the eye to the brain. The stupid animals had not made the slightest move to flee, even though they saw their companions go down.
But scarcely had the cloud of smoke lifted when the explorers saw something else making for the body of the eland. Three large black vultures perched on the carcass.
More carefully aimed bullets from Bob’s rifle finished them instantly.
“Ready now?” chuckled Mr. Holton.
“Sure,” Bob answered. “That job’s over. Somehow I couldn’t leave without letting those hyenas and vultures have it.”
A little farther on, the adventurers came to a narrow trail that wound through the tall grass. As it headed in their direction, they followed it.
For the last ten minutes Bob and Joe had fallen to the rear of the safari. Now, when they returned to join their fathers, Mr. Lewis turned to them.
“Noko says there may be a native village a little farther on,” he said. “Howard and I think it might be best to make for it, because the blacks may be able to tell us of some big game in this vicinity. We’d like especially to have a fine leopard skin.”
“Leopard! Boy! Sounds exciting,” grinned Joe. “Here’s hoping we see one – or more, for that matter.”
They trudged on for over an hour. Then, when they were beginning to fear that no village was near, they rounded a bend in the bushes and found themselves facing a group of thatched huts.
“Came to it at last,” mused Bob. “But – where are the people? Looks like nobody’s at home.”
“Maybe they’ve gone visiting,” remarked Joe with a laugh.
Mr. Holton suggested that they move on into the village to see if there was any evidence of recent human habitation.
Leaving the bearers at a little clearing to wait, the four Americans and Noko walked toward the grass huts, keeping on the alert for anything human or animal.
“Looks like it’s deserted, all right,” remarked Joe. “Not a soul anywhere.”
“What’s that?” cried Bob suddenly, stopping at once.
“What?” questioned his chum.
“Sounded like – Come on, Joe. Let’s go around this hut and see what we can see.”
The youths left the naturalists and Noko and made their way to the other side of a large thatched house.
Then, horror stricken, they saw what had caused Bob to utter his sudden exclamation.
Coiled but a few scant feet away was a long black mamba, the most poisonous snake of Africa. It was eyeing the human invaders staringly, apparently with evil purpose.
For one awful moment the youths gazed in terrible fascination, unable to take their eyes from the hideous reptile. Then, sensing the need for flight, they turned to leave. But they hesitated.
“It’s going to strike!” gasped Joe. “And neither of us has a gun!”
Bob looked about wildly for some club or other weapon with which to defend himself and his friend, but saw none. For a second he thought of turning to run, but he soon realized that the deadly snake could probably move much faster than could he.
What greatly puzzled the youths was why the mamba appeared to be taking the aggressive. Perhaps, however, it was angered because frightened.
Just then the youths heard a shout from Mr. Lewis and then the report of a rifle.
The snake’s head was shattered into a horrid pulp, which almost sickened the boys. It writhed about feebly, then was still.
Mr. Lewis and Mr. Holton rushed toward their sons.
“You sure fired that shot in time,” said Bob with a shudder. “I was beginning to think it was all over with us.”
“It was a terribly narrow escape,” breathed Mr. Holton, wiping the perspiration from his brow. “We should have warned you about mambas.”
“Why?” asked Bob. “They aren’t here any more than anywhere else, are they?”
“Yes,” returned Mr. Holton emphatically. “A deserted village nearly always contains at least one mamba. For some reason they like to pick on such a place. But the main thing now,” he added, “is that you’re still alive.”
With one last glance at the dead reptile the explorers turned toward the safari. As they passed through the village they kept a close watch for any more of the dreaded snakes, but saw none near. They did see another quite a distance away, although it did not apparently catch sight of them.
“I’ve been wondering just where the villagers are and why they left their huts,” remarked Mr. Lewis, when they had rejoined the others of the expedition.
“Maybe those mambas drove them out,” suggested Bob, but Noko shook his head.
“No rain now, and dey go to place where is water,” was the opinion voiced by the head native.
“By Jupiter! Perhaps you’re right, Noko,” exclaimed Joe’s father. “Well, then, if that is true, there is no use waiting for them to return. Let’s go.”
Under the expert leadership of the veteran Noko, the expedition was making good time toward the little-known Forest of Mystery. If their luck should hold, they would reach it in but a few days.
“According to Mr. Seabury, back in Mombasa, we should come to a very wide, shallow stream. A little beyond this is the Forest of Mystery,” said Mr. Holton, as that night they were camped at the foot of a little knoll. “We should be nearing that stream now.”
Mention of this out-of-the-way place revived the name of Thomas Seabury, the missing brother of the man in Mombasa.
“Wonder if we’ll find him,” mused Joe, gazing off into the dark depths of the jungle.
“Hard telling,” returned his friend. “About all we can do is to ask natives if they have seen or heard of him. And if they haven’t – well, it doesn’t look like there’ll be much chance of coming across him.”
“You’re right, Bob,” affirmed Mr. Lewis. “Africa is a very large place, and he might have left that unknown forest long before. But we’ll certainly do all we can to locate him.”
For two successive days the safari plunged on steadily without coming to the stream.
Late in the afternoon the explorers were crossing a stretch of open country when suddenly Mr. Lewis called a halt. He pointed to something that was coming toward them.
It was an impala, a species of antelope, and was evidently in the last stage of exhaustion. Running wildly and without aim, the animal was a pitiable sight.
Then the adventurers saw something else. Two African hunting dogs were pursuing the impala and were gaining rapidly. In but a short time they would be upon it.
“Quick!” exclaimed Mr. Holton, grasping his rifle from its bearer. “We must shoot those dogs before they get that fine big antelope. Ben, you take the one ahead. I’ll pick the one behind. Now!”
Bang! Crack!
The sound of the guns was mingled with a last cry from one of the hunting dogs as it rolled over. The other had been killed instantly.
“Two less pests in the world,” murmured Mr. Lewis, and then, turning to Bob and Joe: “All the hunters in Africa couldn’t kill off as many beautiful harmless animals as the African hunting dog.”
“Why? How do they do it?” inquired Joe.
“They usually hunt in packs,” his father replied. “And the antelope or other animal that they go after is as good as doomed. They never give up till they get the one they’re after. Worst thing is, they kill new animals every day and eat only a small part of the flesh. Then they single out more.”
“The pests!” growled Bob. “From now on I’m going to plug every one I see. They – ”
He did not finish, for just at that moment the party emerged from a thick jungle growth to see a wide stream just ahead. Beyond it was an endless mass of towering trees, which grew so close together as to form a veritable jungle.
Bob uttered a cry of delight.
“The Forest of Mystery!” he broke out. “We’ve found it!”
