ohn in everything. He'll be in my place for the
day. Better fill your canteens with cold coffee before you go and take
your heavy rifles. Let John have your compass, Burt. If you run across
any waterbuck bring in a couple for the men. It'll be a good change of
diet. Now get to sleep, for you'll be up before day."

After laying out a supply of heavy cartridges and some fresh clothes for
the morning the boys tumbled into their sleeping bags on top of their
cots. Each leg of the cots was placed in a dish of water to keep off
ants and other crawling creatures which might wander in. Critch was half
asleep when he heard Burt's voice.

"Oh, Critch! Remember what Cap'n Mac looked like coming across that
swamp?"

"Shut up! I don't want to dream about it."

"I was just thinkin' that we'll stick pretty close to John to-morrow,
eh?"

"You bet your life we will! Go to sleep."

It was their last sleep in the comfortable tent for many a night.

CHAPTER XIII

IN THE PIGMY VILLAGE

As Mr. Wallace had predicted, they were up long before the sun. After a
hasty breakfast by candle light John discarded his role of chef and
buckled on a cartridge belt. As their gun-bearers and a dozen porters
assembled, two hunters came in from the village to guide them to the
place where the giraffes had been seen and the boys bade Mr. Wallace
farewell.

A five-mile walk through rough and thickly wooded African country is not
a light task by any means. In the main they followed trails where heavy
animals had beaten down the thick grass and left openings through the
bush. They saw little game for the first hour, although once a big
python slid across the path and Burt missed him.

"Won't we have a yarn when we get home?" said Burt, gleefully. "We'll
run some great little old stories in the high school paper next year,
eh?"

"Bet your life!" replied Critch. "I'd like to bottle some o' them blamed
little red ants and use 'em for initiations. Wouldn't they make the
fellows squirm?"

"Say, don't forget to swap some of Mvita's men out o' their stuff. We
want to take home a good bunch o' them spears, Critch. A couple o'
shields and knives'd go great too."

"No talk-talk now, massa Burt!" John turned to them warningly. "Him
giraffe not beri far. Maybe hear."

The hunters had slipped through the tall grass and vanished. It was now
two hours after daylight and the boys knew they must be getting near the
hunting grounds. They were no longe