what was nearly a tragedy into
instant comedy. There was Mvita, a dozen yards from the lion, earnestly
bent upon scrambling up a thorn-tree in the shortest possible time! He
never cast a glance below, as the roars of laughter went up from the
boys and even from the natives, but only climbed the faster. He was
nearing the top of the spiny tree; on every limb and thorn hung remnants
of his gorgeous crimson robe, and by the time he reached the top he was
fully as well clad as his humblest subject below.

In vain did the boys yell at him to come down. Mvita was taking no
chances of a mistake again, and not until he had reached the very top
branch that would bear his weight did the terrified chieftain glance
down. Even the sight of his laughing subjects and the dead lion hardly
reassured him, but once he was certain of his safety he took a speedy
and certain method of restoring his lost dignity. Descending as quickly
as he had gone up, he brought a long thorn-branch with him, and applied
this to his subjects and the Bantus indiscriminately until their
laughter was changed to howls for mercy. Only at the intercession of the
gasping boys did the angry chief cease.

The Bantus speedily gathered, and played like children about the dead
bodies of the two beasts, which had been placed side by side. They
proved themselves surprisingly good mimics, one taking the part of the
lion and jumping with a growl at the others. Another took Burt's part,
snapping his fingers as he stepped backward and finally fell; while a
third played Mvita, running to the thorn tree with the lion in hot
pursuit. At this instant an angry voice stopped the proceedings, and the
boys looked around in alarm to see Mr. Wallace running toward them.

"Here, what is all this?" he shouted, waving his rifle. Before the boys
could answer he caught sight of the two carcasses, and stopped short.
"So you've been disobeying orders again!"

"Not quite that, uncle," returned Burt quickly. He then explained why
they had left, together with all that had happened. As Mr. Wallace
glanced at the almost naked chief, and then at the decorated thorn tree,
his face relaxed and Burt knew there was no more to fear.

"You spoiled a fine shot for me," was all Mr. Wallace said. "I guess
you've had lesson enough. Get the boys busy on the skins, John."

"How about the elephants?" spoke up Critch.

"They're not far off, unless your shooting frightened them. We'll leave
the Bantus to s