“Don’t know--we’ll find out,” was the answer. “Probably the pole was set in a swamp,” observed C. C., as they walked forward. “Not at all!” exclaimed the conductor, who had made friends with the boys. “It’s an odd case, and if you lads had been here with your cameras you’d have had a fine chance for a picture. Nothing less than a giraffe knocked our telegraph fine out of business!” “A giraffe!” cried Blake, wondering whether the conductor was “stringing” him. “That’s it. You can see his hoof marks where he passed over the railroad. His head was so high that his neck probably hit the wire, and, as neither the wire nor the neck would break the pole had to. Yes, take my word for it, a giraffe broke down the line, and we’ll be held up until it can be fixed.” “How long will that be?” asked Blake, an idea coming into his head. “Oh, several hours, maybe. I’ll have to send a man back on foot to the next station to have a lineman come out. I don’t dare take the chance of proceeding without orders, for there is no telling when a special might come along and run into us.” “Then, if we’ve got several hours,” cried Blake, “can’t we go off into the jungle and try for some pictures?” “Great!” exclaimed Joe. “I think you might,” said the conductor. “Don’t go too far, though. I’ll have the engineer whistle about an hour before we are to start, and you can then come back.” The boys agreed to do this, and with Sergeant Hotchkiss to act as guide, and with C. C. to serve in the capacity of guard with his gun, Joe and Blake set out with their cameras, Mr. Duncan deciding to stay in the train. “I do hope we stir up a lion!” exclaimed Blake, as they trudged along a trail made by the natives. Whither it led they did not know, but they had not gone far before Mr. Hotchkiss called a halt, and, pointing to a wide path leading across the narrow trail--a path seemingly forced by some large body--said: “Buffaloes!” “Are they around here?” asked Joe, thinking of what he had heard of these savage creatures with their immense horns. “It’s hard to say,” replied the sergeant. “Best to be careful.” They decided to follow the buffalo path, which was one literally smashed through the dense jungle growth, as they hoped to come to some open space where the creatures might be feeding, and so get a picture. Luck was with them, for they had not gone more than a mile before the sergeant, who was in the lead, exclaimed: “Here you are, boys!” Joe and Blake pressed forward, and, coming suddenly into a sort of glade where the grass grew tall, they saw a score or more of the big cape buffaloes. Some were lying down, others standing up, and some feeding, while one big bull seemed to be on guard. The wind was blowing from the creatures to the boys--the man-odor would not carry to the animals. “If we can get a little nearer we can film them,” whispered Joe. “Go ahead,” counseled Blake, and they stole forward with one camera. “Plucky lads,” observed the sergeant, admiringly.