seeing him again, either dead or alive; and
yet they had hope.

Provided with food to eat along the way, they started down the river,--
many of the Makololo _very_ unwillingly. They had just performed a
journey of near thirty miles in only a few hours' time, and of course
they were weary.

But this was not the only reason why their exertions were prolonged with
some reluctance. They had been told of the manner in which Hendrik had
left his companions; and, guided by reason,--instead of a strong feeling
of friendship,--unlike Hans, Willem, and Arend, they had no hope of
seeing him again. For, from their acquaintance with the country, they
knew of the cataract; and were confident that he must have been carried
over the falls; thence a shattered, inanimate mass rolling onward to
ocean.

When little more than a mile down stream, Groot Willem discharged his
gun. The report echoed in afar along the banks. Every one paused and
stood listening to hear if there should be any response.

It came.

Faintly and from afar they could distinguish the sounds of a human
voice. Uttering a shout of joy, the three hunters rushed forward, and
soon after, when Hans shouted "Hendrik," they heard from the river the
words, "Here, this way."

A minute more, and they were standing within a few feet of the object of
their search, and had a full comprehension of what had hindered him from
returning to the succour of his companions.

As the Makololo had come out well provided with comestibles, the hungry
hunters were fed to their full satisfaction and then all went back to
the place where the elephant had breathed its last. There forming their
camp, they kindled fires, and made ready to pass the night,--the
followers of Macora feasting upon one of their favourite dishes,--baked
elephant's foot.

Congo had still his tale to tell. When deserted by the others in their
pursuit of the giraffes, he had waited two or three hours, expecting
them to return. He then started off along their spoor, but being
hampered by caring for the pack-horse, he progressed but slowly.

Night overtook him by the body of the dead giraffe. Unable through the
darkness to follow the trail any farther, he remained by the carcass
till morning.

By that time, the heavy rain had obliterated the spoor so completely
that even Spoor'em, the hound, could only follow it with great
difficulty. After a time, Congo saw that the horse-tracks separated,
going in differ