The Forest of Mystery

Thomas Seabury extended a hand, which the youths clasped warmly.

“As I was saying,” resumed Bob, “Joe happened to see this ant hill. We came over to investigate.”

“I am only too thankful that you did,” the man said. “But how did you happen to be here? What are you doing in Africa?”

“We’re with our dads,” Joe told him. “Came to collect specimens of wild animals and birds. And now, Mr. Seabury, suppose we go back to camp. That is, if you’re ready.”

“I am more than ready,” was the answer. “Camp is a word that sounds better to me than ’most any I can think of.”

They found the two natives waiting. The latter displayed unusual surprise at seeing another white man in that vast jungle. Mr. Seabury fell to talking with them, telling them in their own language of his experience.

Back at camp, which they finally reached, Mr. Lewis and Mr. Holton met them.

“But look who we’ve found,” said Joe happily. “Thomas Seabury.”

“Well, what in the – ” Mr. Lewis could hardly believe his eyes, while Bob’s father was no less surprised.

Joe introduced Mr. Seabury to the naturalists and then told of how he and his chum had found the missing man.

“Good for you, boys,” praised Mr. Holton. “If you hadn’t found him, perhaps he wouldn’t have been found.”

“I wonder if I am dreaming,” said Mr. Seabury. “If I am, I never want to wake up.”

The youths’ fathers spent the remainder of the day in telling of their experiences since leaving Mombasa and in listening to Seabury’s.

But the next morning all were up early preparing for an extensive hunt for specimens. Bob and Joe with their cameras, and the scientists with their rifles, left camp and headed southward, with several of the bearers following.

They had not gone far when they became aware of a deep drumming noise, which seemed to roll along the ground.

“What’s that?” asked Bob, becoming worried. “Savages?”

Mr. Seabury, who was with them, nodded.

“I have often heard the noise,” he said, “and I believe it is made by natives. But they are probably a great distance off. I don’t believe we are in any danger.”

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.

“Ask them where they got it,” said Joe.

The naturalists put the question before the natives in their own language. They replied that they had speared it several miles from there, and, having heard of the safari, went to see if they could sell it.

“They’re big liars!” stormed Bob, when this had been translated. “That white elephant skin belongs to us. And,” he added with determination, “we’re going to have it without pay!

“Tell those savages to get out of here, Noko,” he said. “Tell them that if they don’t they’ll wish they had.” He removed his revolver from its holster and, as Noko talked, flashed it before the savages.

When Noko had finished translating, the savages grew furiously angry. They advanced threateningly toward the explorers, paying no attention to Bob’s gun.

CHAPTER XXX

An Old Mystery Is Cleared

ONE big native made a grab for the white elephant skin.

But his hand never reached it. With a powerful blow, Bob sent the man crashing to the ground so hard that he was put in a daze. Then, raising the revolver, the youth fired three shots into the air.

They had the desired effect. The savages turned on their heels and dashed off, leaving their downed companion behind. Before long he too had disappeared.

“Well, you certainly made quick work of them,” laughed Mr. Seabury, who had been impressed by the rapidity of Bob’s action. “Couldn’t see them for the dust.”

“They were glad enough to get out of it,” grinned Joe. “Old Bob would have cleaned up on the whole bloomin’ bunch.”

Everyone had to laugh, now that the danger was over. Even Noko joined in.

“Um strong fella,” he said, feeling Bob’s arms. “You make um leave ver’ quick.”

The naturalists examined the elephant skin and were delighted with it. For they knew that it was one of the rarest of the rare.

“Here’s hoping we shoot another pigmy white elephant,” said Joe, “and a lot more new specimen’s besides.”

During the weeks that followed they did shoot another of the strange elephants, and in addition brought down a large number of other wild creatures. The latter were carefully skinned and labeled by the naturalists.

Bob and Joe found themselves constantly occupied in working at some interesting task, such as photographing the mysterious forest. They exposed several thousand feet of motion-picture film.

On one afternoon a heavy drizzle fell, making it impossible for the adventurers to go on with their work. And many of the days that followed were not without their thunderstorms.

“Now that the rainy season is at hand,” remarked Mr. Lewis one morning as he sat in a tent, “I suggest that we start back to the coast. We’ve collected more than enough specimens, and the boys have taken scores of motion-picture scenes.”

The explorers attended to packing their belongings, assembling the specimens, oiling their firearms, and the like. It required nearly a week to complete preparations, but at last they were ready for the return journey.

Through the dark Forest of Mystery and then over the many plains and wooded tracts they hiked, at last coming to Mbarara. From there they went by automobile to a terminal on the railroad, and then by train back to Mombasa.

In this city the youths and their fathers were induced to stop for a week at George Seabury’s house. That gentleman fairly hugged his brother at seeing him alive and well. He thanked the explorers, particularly Bob and Joe, again and again for finding him and bringing him back with them.

The Americans finally succeeded in obtaining passage on an American ship. Bob and Joe in particular found the return voyage very interesting, even though they had made it before.

They were sitting on deck one morning in the midst of a row of passengers when a stranger leaned toward them.

“Beg pardon, fellows,” he said, “but I wonder if you’d mind telling me where you got those rings you have.”

“Rings?” asked Bob. “Oh, those. A Chinaman back in San Francisco gave them to us.”

“Let me take a good look at them,” said the stranger, whose name was Walker.

He examined the rings carefully for several minutes.

“Why?” asked Joe. “Is there anything wrong?”

“Wrong? Absolutely not,” Walker said, straightening up with a nod. “You fellows are most fortunate in possessing such rare pieces of jewelry. Those rings once belonged to an emperor of China.”

“What!” cried Bob, while Joe’s eyes opened wide. “How do you know this?”

“By the inscriptions that are on them,” Walker returned at once.

“Inscriptions?” Bob looked baffled. “Can you read those?”

“Most assuredly,” was the answer. “I can speak and read seven languages. Chinese is one of them.”

At once the youths were all excitement.

“But,” began Bob, when the hubbub of chattering had subsided, “I thought China was a republic with a president. Then how do you explain this emperor stuff?”

“At one time China was an absolute monarchy, governed by rulers,” Walker told them. “The rings, unless they were faked – and I do not think they were – were once the property of one of the emperors.”

“Then – that explains everything,” murmured Joe.

“How is that?” inquired Walker, very much interested.

Joe told him how much the rings were desired by numerous Chinamen.

“I shouldn’t wonder that they are coveted, considering their worth,” the man said when Joe had finished. “Chinese especially would prize them very highly.”

The chums sought out their fathers and told them the good news.

“That puts a glorious climax to everything,” said Mr. Holton. “With this ring mystery cleared up, you can feel much better.”

“But there were others that we weren’t able to solve,” remarked Bob.

“What do you mean?” inquired Joe.

“Those in the Forest of Mystery,” returned Bob.

THE END