The Forest of Mystery

  CHAPTER XXIII

  Moments of Horror

  Two reports rent the air. Without an outcry the big eland collapsed. Ahyena, too, had been hit by Bob's rifle.

  "One good turn done," said Mr. Lewis, handing his rifle to his gunbearer.

  "Wait till I shoot the rest of those hyenas," came from Bob, who wastaking aim with a high-velocity .22 rifle.

  "Um get bigger gun. No kill um with little gun." Noko was watching Bobcuriously.

  "Watch me and see," smiled Bob.

  Using his knowledge of marksmanship, the youth killed all of thehyenas by sending bullets through the eye to the brain. The stupidanimals had not made the slightest move to flee, even though they sawtheir companions go down.

  But scarcely had the cloud of smoke lifted when the explorers sawsomething else making for the body of the eland. Three large blackvultures 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 leavewithout letting those hyenas and vultures have it."

  A little farther on, the adventurers came to a narrow trail that woundthrough the tall grass. As it headed in their direction, they followedit.

  For the last ten minutes Bob and Joe had fallen to the rear of thesafari. Now, when they returned to join their fathers, Mr. Lewisturned to them.

  "Noko says there may be a native village a little farther on," hesaid. "Howard and I think it might be best to make for it, because theblacks may be able to tell us of some big game in this vicinity. We'dlike especially to have a fine leopard skin."

  "Leopard! Boy! Sounds exciting," grinned Joe. "Here's hoping we seeone--or more, for that matter."

  They trudged on for over an hour. Then, when they were beginning tofear that no village was near, they rounded a bend in the bushes andfound themselves facing a group of thatched huts.

  "Came to it at last," mused Bob. "But--where are the people? Lookslike 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 ifthere was any evidence of recent human habitation.

  Leaving the bearers at a little clearing to wait, the four Americansand Noko walked toward the grass huts, keeping on the alert foranything human or animal.

  "Looks like it's deserted, all right," remarked Joe. "Not a soulanywhere."

  "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 whatwe can see."

  The youths left the naturalists and Noko and made their way to theother side of a large thatched house.

  Then, horror stricken, they saw what had caused Bob to utter hissudden exclamation.

  Coiled but a few scant feet away was a long black mamba, the mostpoisonous snake of Africa. It was eyeing the human invaders staringly,apparently with evil purpose.

  For one awful moment the youths gazed in terrible fascination, unableto take their eyes from the hideous reptile. Then, sensing the needfor 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 todefend himself and his friend, but saw none. For a second he thoughtof turning to run, but he soon realized that the deadly snake couldprobably move much faster than could he.

  What greatly puzzled the youths was why the mamba appeared to betaking the aggressive. Perhaps, however, it was angered becausefrightened.

  Just then the youths heard a shout from Mr. Lewis and then the reportof a rifle.

  The snake's head was shattered into a horrid pulp, which almostsickened 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 wasbeginning to think it was all over with us."

  "It was a terribly narrow escape," breathed Mr. Holton, wiping theperspiration from his brow. "We should have warned you about mambas."

  "Why?" asked Bob. "They aren't here any more than anywhere else, arethey?"

  "Yes," returned Mr. Holton emphatically. "A deserted village nearlyalways contains at least one mamba. For some reason they like to pickon such a place. But the main thing now," he added, "is that you'restill alive."

  With one last glance at the dead reptile the explorers turned towardthe safari. As they passed through the village they kept a close watchfor any more of the dreaded snakes, but saw none near. They did seeanother quite a distance away, although it did not apparently catchsight of them.

  "I've been wondering just where the villagers are and why they lefttheir huts," remarked Mr. Lewis, when they had rejoined the others ofthe expedition.

  "Maybe those mambas drove them out," suggested Bob, but Noko shook hishead.

  "No rain now, and dey go to place where is water," was the opinionvoiced 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 toreturn. Let's go."

  Under the expert leadership of the veteran Noko, the expedition wasmaking good time toward the little-known Forest of Mystery. If theirluck should hold, they would reach it in but a few days.

  "According to Mr. Seabury, back in Mombasa, we should come to a verywide, shallow stream. A little beyond this is the Forest of Mystery,"said Mr. Holton, as that night they were camped at the foot of alittle knoll. "We should be nearing that stream now."

  Mention of this out-of-the-way place revived the name of ThomasSeabury, the missing brother of the man in Mombasa.

  "Wonder if we'll find him," mused Joe, gazing off into the dark depthsof the jungle.

  "Hard telling," returned his friend. "About all we can do is to asknatives 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 largeplace, and he might have left that unknown forest long before. Butwe'll certainly do all we can to locate him."

  For two successive days the safari plunged on steadily without comingto the stream.

  Late in the afternoon the explorers were crossing a stretch of opencountry when suddenly Mr. Lewis called a halt. He pointed tosomething that was coming toward them.

  It was an impala, a species of antelope, and was evidently in the laststage of exhaustion. Running wildly and without aim, the animal was apitiable sight.

  Then the adventurers saw something else. Two African hunting dogs werepursuing the impala and were gaining rapidly. In but a short time theywould be upon it.

  "Quick!" exclaimed Mr. Holton, grasping his rifle from its bearer. "Wemust shoot those dogs before they get that fine big antelope. Ben, youtake 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 thehunting dogs as it rolled over. The other had been killed instantly.

  "Two less pests in the world," murmured Mr. Lewis, and then, turningto Bob and Joe: "All the hunters in Africa couldn't kill off as manybeautiful 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 orother animal that they go after is as good as doomed. They never giveup till they get the one they're after. Worst thing is, they kill newanimals every day and eat only a small part of the flesh. Then theysingle out more."

  "The pests!" growled Bob. "From now on I'm going to plug every one Isee. They----"

  He did not finish, for just at that moment the party emerged from athick jungle growth to see a wide stream just ahead. Beyond it was anendless mass of towering trees, which grew so close together as tof
orm a veritable jungle.

  Bob uttered a cry of delight.

  "The Forest of Mystery!" he broke out. "We've found it!"