The Forest of Mystery

Shortly after daybreak Mr. Lewis appeared at the doorway.

“Come along, boys,” he said, noting that they were awake. “The train leaves in two hours.”

They dressed as soon as possible and secured their breakfast. Then, with their fathers, they went to the railroad station, carrying most of their baggage.

As there was nearly an hour remaining, all four took a short walk about the city, in search of anything unusual.

Before long they found themselves at the city fish market, which was a colorful place displaying practically all kinds of sea food. There were sharks, swordfish, crabs, crayfish, sardines, and many other queer denizens of the near-by waters.

“Quite a market,” mused Joe, as they moved back to the railroad station. “Ought to be able to find anything you’d want there.”

The train arrived at last, and the explorers lost no time in boarding. They found the coach very comfortable, although it appeared rather old.

“You were right, Howard. As yet we are the only passengers,” observed Mr. Lewis.

Before long the train started moving, slowly at first, picking up speed later.

“We’re off!” cried Joe, gazing out of the window with interest.

After a short stop at Kilindini they crossed the channel and passed through luxuriant tropical vegetation – coconut palms, mangoes, and countless other trees and plants.

“When do we see the herds of wild animals?” asked Bob, after an hour had passed. “This is a game reserve, isn’t it?”

His father nodded.

“We should see some before long now,” he said. “But, of course, there won’t be any great numbers until we get farther along.”

Soon the train left the coastal belt and reached a region of bush. For several hours it sped through a monotonous country, at last coming to the town of Voi.

From then on the journey was rather uninteresting, until the explorers pulled into Makindu. Here they got off to spend the night.

Late the next morning the train resumed its journey, leaving the region of bush behind and entering a vast plain.

Suddenly Mr. Holton sat up with a start.

“Look over there!” he exclaimed, pointing to something several hundred yards away.

Bob and Joe looked.

“Why – it’s a herd of zebras!” cried Bob, struck with amazement. “There must be fifty of them.”

“What do you know about that!” Joe was also gazing out with profound interest. “They – over there! A herd of strange antelopes.”

“They’re impalla,” pronounced his father. “Sleek, beautiful animals, aren’t they?”

As they went farther the explorers saw other kinds of game. Bright-colored birds fluttered past; towering giraffes could often be seen; hartebeests and other varieties of antelopes appeared everywhere. Once a troop of impalla, upon hearing the locomotive whistle, ran gracefully at right angles from the train.

“The world’s greatest menagerie,” murmured Mr. Lewis, speaking with decision. “The British certainly have done a great good here. There is nothing like this protectorate anywhere.”

Half an hour later the train stopped at a small but attractive station. Here the explorers got off to stretch their legs and look around.

Bob and Joe happened to be near the locomotive when a voice made them turn about. Looking up, they saw the engineer motioning to them.

“How would you like to see the wild beasts better?” he asked the youths.

“Why – what do you mean?” inquired Joe wonderingly. “See them better? How?”

“Easy enough,” laughed the engineer. He climbed down from the locomotive. “See that? It’s a seat on the cowcatcher. If you like, you and your dads, or whoever that was with you, can perch yourselves there. It’s every bit as safe as in the car.”

“Say!” burst out Bob, delighted at such an opportunity. “That’s just what we’ll do. There’s plenty of room for all four of us, and no danger of falling off. Thanks for telling us.”

The boys found their fathers on the opposite side of the train.

“It’s time Joe and I were springing a surprise on you,” said Bob, with a wink at his chum.

There was a quizzical look on the faces of the naturalists.

“Very well,” smiled Mr. Lewis, his eyes twinkling. “What is your surprise?”

“How would you like to see the wild beasts better?” asked Bob, repeating the question asked by the engineer.

Mr. Holton answered on the moment.

“We’d like it so well that we intend to occupy the seat on the cowcatcher of the engine,” he said casually.

Bob groaned hopelessly.

“Good-bye surprise,” he snorted. “Doggone it, Dad. You two are away too wise for us. We ought to tell you something about the Amazon jungle, I guess, instead of picking on Africa. We ought to be able to. We were lost in it long enough.”

“I get it,” laughed Mr. Lewis. “You were going to tell us about the wonderful possibilities for sightseeing while seated at the front of the locomotive. Why didn’t you keep still, Howard, and let them have their fun?”

“Sorry,” grinned Mr. Holton. “Next time I’ll be as mum as a giraffe.”

At a word from the engineer, the four explorers climbed up on the cowcatcher and sat down on the wide seat, their hearts light as they eagerly anticipated what was coming. As for Bob and Joe, it was the most unusual opportunity they had ever been offered.

“What do you have there?” inquired Joe, trying to make out what his friend held under his arm.

“A motion-picture camera,” returned Bob, holding it in view. “I opened the box and brought it out. We haven’t taken any movies since we started, you know.”

“Glad you thought of it,” Joe commended. “This is sure a swell chance for rolling it off.”

The sound of the locomotive’s whistle made the explorers sit up in eager anticipation.

It was a novel sensation to the youths – sitting on the cowcatcher of the engine. As the latter picked up speed, they experienced a feeling of real exhilaration. For seeing the shining rails slip by and watching the scenery move toward them was most unusual indeed, especially here in Africa.

The farther they went the more plentiful wild life became. On one occasion Joe almost caught a bright red bird with his hands as it flew across the path of the oncoming train. At another time a cat-like animal darted across the track, almost under the wheels.

“That fellow had a narrow escape,” breathed Bob, whose heart was beating rapidly as he saw the near-tragedy.

Still later the boys and their fathers saw literally thousands of beautiful Thompson’s gazelles, gnus, ostriches, giraffes, hartebeests, water bucks, and many other creatures.

“Such a sight!” said Bob, cranking the motion-picture camera frequently. “Never saw – ”

He stopped abruptly, and the reason was very apparent.

Not two hundred feet away, directly on the track, was a huge elephant, which paid not the slightest attention to the oncoming train!

CHAPTER XV

A Wonderful Sight

“WE’LL hit it, sure!” cried Joe, rapidly losing his nerve as he gazed fearfully ahead. “Oh, I guess this is the end!”

Already the shrill whistle of the locomotive was shattering the silence. But even the loud warning was futile. The elephant remained where it was, not as much as moving an ear.

Bob and Joe and their fathers were gripped with fear as they saw themselves speed closer toward the huge brute. Let them once strike the animal, and their doom would probably be sealed!

The explorers heard a wild shout from the engineer. Then there was a creaking and grinding noise, and the train’s speed was checked somewhat. But even with the application of the emergency brake the heavy engine plunged on.

“Jump!” cried Mr. Lewis in a wild voice. “It’s the only way to escape!”

Obeying the command at once, Bob and Joe watched their chance and leaped far over to the left of the train, while their fathers went to the right. The train was not traveling rapidly, and so there was no danger of injuring themselves.

The youths rolled over on the soft ground, not receiving as much as a scratch.

“Look, Joe! Look!” yelled Bob.

The locomotive slid on and with a tremendous crash struck the massive elephant. The impact knocked the front trucks of the engine completely off the track, while the huge beast went to the ground with a resounding thud.

The force of the collision literally brought the train to a complete stop. But the scene of the mishap was one of frenzied disorder.

Kicking and trumpeting horribly, the elephant vainly tried to get to its feet. But, despite its frantic efforts, it could not do so. Apparently it had been injured severely.

Mr. Holton ran around to the youths, followed by Joe’s father.

“Boys! Are you all right?” the latter asked anxiously.

“Yes,” Bob reassured him. “But, say, that was a whale of a smash-up, wasn’t it?”

“The elephant appears to be mortally wounded,” Mr. Lewis said, with a shake of his head. “It seems only humane to put it out of its misery.”

He unstrapped his rifle and took aim at the animal’s heart. A moment later he pulled the trigger.

The naturalist never fired a more accurate shot. With a horrible groan, the great beast collapsed into a heap – dead. The high-velocity bullet, following its previous injury, finished it instantly.

Long before, the engineer and fireman of the locomotive had joined the explorers and were viewing the scene with a terrible awe.

“We’re in a fine mess,” groaned Bob, directing his gaze at the dead elephant.

“Mess is right, fellow,” came from the engineer. “It’s up to me now to get word back to Mombasa to send out a relief train. We’re in luck, too. There’s a station only a short distance up the track.”

He left the others and hurried ahead, intent upon telegraphing as soon as possible.

In less than an hour he was back, and announced that another train would arrive from Nairobi, a city less than sixty miles away. Relief was expected inside of three hours.

“While we’re waiting,” said Bob, speaking to his chum, “suppose we take a short jaunt into the surrounding country. We ought to see plenty of interest.”

“Be careful, boys,” warned Mr. Holton. “And remember. Don’t shoot any animal unless, of course, you have to. This is a game preserve, you know.”

Delighted at such a chance, the youths strode off through the high grass, keeping their eyes ready to single out anything of interest.

Almost at every step they saw some strange and interesting creature. Birds of brilliant plumage flew overhead, large herds of sleek, agile antelopes coursed across the plain, and at one time the boys caught a glimpse of a buffalo.

“Strange that there aren’t any lions,” mused Joe. “Where there’s so much of everything else, looks like there ought to be at least a few.”

“I suppose they keep their distance,” said Bob. “Been hunted so much, maybe.”

In little over two hours, Bob and Joe returned to the train, to find their fathers sitting on the cowcatcher of the engine.

“What did you see?” Mr. Lewis inquired drowsily.

“Plenty,” answered Bob. “There’s about every kind of animal imaginable in this region. But we weren’t able to stir up a lion.”

“I don’t wonder,” Mr. Holton said. “The king of beasts is keeping his distance at present.”

“What do you mean, ‘at present’?” inquired Joe.

“The natives around here have been up in arms against lions,” Mr. Holton explained. “You see, the fact that this is a protectorate has made the lions very bold, and so the natives have taken steps to kill off a few that have been causing the most trouble. It seems – ”

He was interrupted by the sound of a distant locomotive whistle and peered up the track expectantly. Undoubtedly this was the relief train, and that was what the two naturalists desired above all else just at this time. For every moment of delay was maddening to them.

At last the train came in sight and in a short time had stopped not far from the dead elephant. The engine was in the rear of a flat car on which was a huge crane.

“Now for the fun,” smiled Joe, looking doubtfully at the crane. “Looks to me like it would take more than one of those things to move that elephant.”

But much to Joe’s surprise the crane proved very effective, lifting the elephant slowly but surely off the track. It was also used just as effectively to place the front truck of the engine back on the rails.

“All over,” laughed Bob, placing the motion-picture camera back in his pocket. “I took some movies of that, too. Ought to be plenty good.” He climbed back on the cowcatcher of the locomotive.

“I don’t know whether it will be safe to sit there, Bob,” said his father. “We might strike another animal.”

“Ah, gee, Dad,” came from Bob pleadingly. “This is a wonderful place to watch the scenery.”

The engineer came to his rescue.

“You don’t need to fear anything more happening,” he told Mr. Holton. “This elephant smash-up was the first to bother us this year. Go ahead and sit on the cowcatcher.”

The naturalist took hope from the trainman’s words and decided to risk it. For, if the truth be known, he and Mr. Lewis were as anxious as the boys to ride at the front of the locomotive.

Ten minutes later they were speeding along toward Lake Victoria, following the wrecking train.

Nothing more happened until they reached Nairobi, the halfway point on the way to the lake. Here their journey aboard this train came to an end, and they were forced to wait for another.

The next morning they were again on their journey, this time aboard another train, the engine of which did not have the convenient cowcatcher seat. But Bob and Joe didn’t mind. They became so absorbed in the unusual sights about them that they completely forgot it.

A short distance from Nairobi they got their first glimpse of really primitive natives. A group of blacks, led by one big fellow who was undoubtedly the chief, waved a friendly greeting as the train passed.

“Did you notice their teeth?” asked Joe, when the natives had been left behind.

“Yeah. They were filed to sharp points. And did you see their hair?”

“Hair? That’s a good one,” laughed Joe. “They didn’t have any. Was every bit shaved off.”

At last the train entered a region of misty rain forests. Occasional mountains became visible, their peaks towering into the distant skies.

The time passed slowly but brought much of interest. Then one day the explorers found themselves in Port Bell, at the edge of famed Lake Victoria.

Bob and Joe went with their fathers down to the water’s edge to get a glimpse of the lake.

Then their eyes almost burst from their heads.

CHAPTER XVI

Off for the Unknown

FAR into the distance, as far as the eye could see, stretched the boundless water of Lake Victoria, resembling nothing so much as a vast ocean. Even at the far-away horizon there was no trace of land.

“Wow!” gasped Bob, who was taken totally by surprise. “You’re not kidding us about this being a lake, are you?”

Mr. Holton laughed.

“We thought it would get you,” he said. “Boys, you’re looking at one of the largest lakes in the entire world. Covers an area of nearly twenty seven thousand square miles, and is over two hundred and fifty miles long.”

“Biggest I’ve ever seen,” remarked Joe. “And right here in the heart of Africa.”

He had brought a motion-picture camera and now removed it to roll off a fair amount of film.

“What’s that away over there?” inquired Bob wonderingly, pointing to a dark cloud that hovered near the surface of the water.

The others gazed intently for several moments. Then, when the dark mass was slightly nearer, Mr. Lewis uttered an exclamation.

“If I’m not mistaken, that cloud isn’t a cloud,” he said, removing his binoculars from their case.

“Then – what is it?” demanded Joe.

A moment later his father confirmed his own opinion.

“Just as I thought,” Mr. Lewis said, peering out through his powerful glasses. “That isn’t a cloud at all. It is a big mass of insects.”

“Insects?” repeated Bob. “You mean that what looks like a cloud is nothing but a lot of insects flying together?”

Mr. Lewis nodded and passed the binoculars to Bob.

It required but a second for the youth to observe that his chum’s father was right.

“Man alive!” he murmured. “There must be millions of those little creatures. I sure wouldn’t want to get in that swarm.”

“I shouldn’t imagine it would be very pleasant,” said Mr. Holton dryly.

They spent several more minutes in walking along the banks of the lake and then turned back into the town.

“What will we do now?” asked Joe, as they walked along the main street.

“We’re going to take an automobile,” answered his father.

“Oh, come, Dad,” Joe broke out. “What are you talking about?”

“Just what I said,” answered Mr. Lewis. “Howard and I engaged an automobile. We’ll drive to a town called Mbarara – that’s a good day’s journey to the southwest. From there we’ll start into the jungle on safari.”

“Or to use the common African term,” laughed Mr. Holton, “we’ll ‘push off into the blue,’ which means start into the unknown.”

The automobile that the naturalists had engaged was a well-known American make and had seen many miles of service but was still in good condition.

It was still early when the four placed their paraphernalia in the automobile and climbed in themselves. Mr. Holton took the wheel, sending the car ahead at a good pace.

The road was little more than a clearing cut out of the dense jungle, and in the rainy season would have been impassable. Now, however, it was in good condition.

“We’re out of the protectorate now, aren’t we?” inquired Bob, fingering his rifle.

“Yes. But to tell the truth,” began Mr. Holton, reading his son’s thoughts, “I’d rather you wouldn’t shoot anything along here. We’ll have plenty of that to do later.”

As a result of this, the chums refrained from using their rifles, although they saw numerous wild creatures that could have been brought down easily.

Just before nightfall, the little party of explorers chugged into Mbarara, which was a mere village at the edge of the primeval forest.

Here the explorers were welcomed by a huge Negro, to whom the automobile belonged. He was well acquainted with Mr. Holton and Mr. Lewis, having met them on their previous visit to this town.

“Boys,” said Mr. Lewis, addressing the chums, “I want you to meet Migo, an old friend of ours,” indicating the native. “Migo, this is Bob Holton and this, Joe Lewis.”

“Very glad know you,” greeted the native. He was a man of considerable importance in the country about Mbarara, and had picked up several languages, all of which he spoke well.

The chums exchanged the greeting and then made ready for anything that would be said.

“You gon’ org’ize another safari?” Migo asked the naturalists.

“Yes,” returned Mr. Lewis. “And we want you to help us find bearers. Will you do it?”

The answer came at once.

“I will,” the native said. “How many will you need?”

“We have come to the conclusion that twenty-five will satisfy our needs, at least for a while,” responded Mr. Holton. “If we need more we can pick them up at villages along the way. By the way, Migo,” he went on, struck with a sudden thought, “is it possible to get the guide we had last time? Kaika was his name. Knew every inch of ground for miles around.”

Migo’s face darkened. He shook his head slowly.

“Him not here any more,” he said in grave tones.

“Why – I don’t understand,” came from Mr. Lewis. “Where is Kaika?”

“Dead,” was the ominous response.

There was a short silence, during which the naturalists stared at Migo, hardly knowing what to say.

“I’m terribly sorry to hear that,” said Mr. Holton at last. “What caused his death?”

“He killed by a lion,” was the answer from the black. “It was a big man-eater. Kaika, he was in a village one day. Big man-eater he slip up on Kaika. Break Kaika’s back. He die in little time.”

The news sobered the Americans somewhat, for they began to realize anew that Africa, although a land of romance and adventure, was also a place of tragedy. Especially were Bob and Joe stirred by Migo’s words. This was the second casualty they had heard of since landing at the Dark Continent, the first being the case of Mr. Seabury in Mombasa.

“I sincerely hope nothing happens to our expedition,” said Mr. Holton gravely. “Especially since the boys are with us.”

The naturalists were delighted when Migo announced that he could secure the services of Noko, the native that Mr. Seabury had mentioned. For he was one of the very few who knew of the Forest of Mystery. He had recently returned from guiding another safari into a region far to the south. Migo assured the whites that he was unusually brave and daring and knew exactly which men to pick out for the expedition. He lived in a little hut at the edge of Mbarara.

“We’ll go there now,” said Joe’s father. “Migo, will you come with us? We may need your help.”

The native was more than willing, and together they went afoot, except for Mr. Holton, who drove the car. The automobile was now filled to capacity with supplies to be used by the expedition, several necessary additions being furnished by Migo, who kept a store.

In a small thatched hut they found an unusually tall coal-black native, who nodded as he greeted them.

“This Noko,” Migo introduced him. “This man his name Holton, this man name Lewis. These Bob and Joe.”

The towering native smiled broadly and bowed. Then he listened to what Migo had to say.

“They want you guide them into unknown land,” Migo resumed. “They want shoot, hunt. Will you do it?”

“Yes, bwana [master], I will go,” Noko said to the naturalists. “Where you want hunt?”

“In the Forest of Mystery,” said Mr. Holton. “You know where that is, do you not?”

Noko nodded vehemently.

“Yes, bwana,” he told them. “Noko been there two time. It ver’ strange place. See strange things. Strange animals. There some bad men dere. Use long spears. They kill hunters. Noko not see them, but hear about them. Baya sana [very bad]!”

“That is indeed unfortunate,” said Mr. Lewis. “But we are willing to take the chance, if you are.”

Noko bowed.

“It well, then,” he said. “Noko will go into strange forest. Noko not afraid.”

“And you can furnish the bearers?” asked Mr. Holton. “We’ll probably need about twenty-five, perhaps more.”

The tall native nodded. He explained that inside of two days he could complete preparations for the expedition and would let the whites know when he was ready.

After a few more words with Noko the naturalists and their sons left his hut and with Migo drove the automobile to a large clearing just off the roadway. Here they unloaded their supplies and pitched a tent.

“We’ll stay here until Noko has things ready for us to start into the jungle,” remarked Mr. Lewis, lifting a big box to carry it into the tent.

Late the next afternoon the Americans were resting under a large tree beside their temporary camp when they heard a shouting and yelling. Looking around they saw Noko and a large group of other natives heading toward them.

“Hurrah!” cried Joe. “Noko sure has acted quickly. Has everything ready for us.”

The natives were all capable of carrying loads of sixty pounds apiece. And Noko, as the neapara, or headman, assured the explorers that they could be relied upon.

Last-minute preparations were made. The naturalists saw that each porter was carrying his share of the provisions. Then, picking up their guns and handing them to their bearers, the scientists and the youths waved a farewell to Migo and several other natives who had gathered to see the expedition depart.

Led by Noko, the safari made its way toward a distant jungle.

They were off – off for the little-known Forest of Mystery!

CHAPTER XVII

Peril Ahead

“HOW long will it take us to get to this Forest of Mystery?” inquired Bob Holton, as he and his chum followed the naturalists over the grassy plain.

“Many, many days,” answered Mr. Lewis. “It is in the very heart of the vast Belgian Congo and is inaccessible by way of roads and railways.”

“So much the better for us,” laughed Joe. “We’ll probably find things there that no one else has seen. At least, no other white men.”

“Let’s hope you’re right, Son,” came from his father. “Howard and I would like to discover some totally unknown animals. But,” he added significantly, “we’ll have to watch our step. Who knows what perils may be hidden in that mysterious forest?”