That assurance was fulfilled, for when the Hampton party arrived on the scene tall armed with spears and with clappers for producing a particularly atrocious racket already had spread in a wide circle around the .
Mabele who had preceded them came running up with the intelligence that a huge , the largest seen in that district for a long time, had been observed entering the marsh the preceding night. Although a plains animal, yet it resembles its river-loving brother, the , in its regard for cool damp spots. And this marsh was a haunt of the .
Many acres in extent, the marsh stretched away ahead in an expanse of tall reeds and low trees. And although the boys knew at least two score beaters were toward the plain edging the marsh where they had taken their station, yet they could not see them. Now and then, however, the sound of a clapper could be heard. Nor was there any sign of the .
Three motion picture cameras had been brought along, so as to photograph every phase of the hunt. And Niellsen, and Frank were to operate them. Bob, the best shot of the three boys, and Mr. Hampton constituted the armed hunters of the party. They were not to kill the monster until good pictures had been obtained first of the rhino emerging from the swamp and of the beaters converging upon his .
As the most expert of the operators, Niellsen had elected to go into the marsh with his camera and follow up the beaters. And Mr. Hampton accompanied him as his protector. This left the three boys alone in the plain.
It was a morning of blazing sunshine and, early though the hour, the day already had become uncomfortably warm. Frank suffered especially, as he his big camera to a vantage point some distance from Jack so that they would be able to take in the scene from various angles.
“If the rhino charges you, what will you do?” asked Bob, carrying Frank’s film box.
“I’m going to run,” said Frank. “What d’you think?”
“Doesn’t a sense of duty to your employers fill your breast?” demanded Bob, as if in surprise. “I should think you’d stick on the burning deck and let the rhino charge right over you in order to get a picture of him in action.”
“You’ve got another think coming,” replied Frank, coming to a halt and adjusting the tripod. “Guess this is far enough away from Jack.”
“But just think,” persisted Bob, “of what a gorgeous picture it would make. Imagine sitting in a theatre at home and suddenly seeing a huge rhino come toward you, as if he were going to charge right out of the screen and into the audience.”
“Talk to Jack,” said Frank coolly. “I can’t hear you. Whoo, it’s hot. Wish the battle would begin.”
Close at hand in the marsh, as if his words had been a signal, a tremendous of cries broke out with the racheting sound of the clappers in the hands of the native beaters.
“Better get ready,” advised Bob. “That sounds pretty close.”
Frank leaped to his feet, all eagerness, the lassitude of the moment before forgotten, and took his place at the camera.
“See anything yet?” he called.
“No,” said Bob. “And I don’t hear any shots, either. So I suppose Jack’s father isn’t potting away. But what an infernal those beaters are putting up.”
The noise died down, became more remote, and Frank relaxed his tense attitude at the camera, while Bob once more laid down his rifle.
“Huh. Guess the rhino headed for another direction.”
“I suppose so,” said Frank. “Certainly the beaters are withdrawing.”
Once more they were alone on the sunny plain with its tall grass, alone except for Jack whose head and chest only could be seen above the tall grass some distance away. He waved a hand and they replied similarly, but he was too far away to make himself heard except by shouting and so did not call to them.
Perhaps five minutes had elapsed during which no sounds except the drone of huge flies and the tiny hum of insects broke the stillness. The boys now and ............