“That’s what,” admitted C. C., as he looked to his gun. Perhaps he wished for a chance to use it. Getting a good position the moving picture camera was set up, and soon, with Joe to steady it, Blake began turning the handle. With the first click all the buffaloes who were lying down got up and faced toward the boys. They saw them, but the wind being contrary did not give them the smell they needed, and they watched warily and curiously. “Look out! If they start for you--run,” advised the sergeant. The whole herd of buffaloes now began moving about restlessly, and this was just what the boys wanted, for moving pictures that do not move are not much of a success. Then the big bull, with a switch of his tail and an angry snort, started toward the lads. “Look out!” cried the sergeant. “Run!” Hardly had he spoken than the whole herd was in motion, but the lads, far from running, stood their ground. “This is just what we want!” cried Joe. “It will make a dandy film!” “Yes, we can take views for a few seconds more,” decided Blake. They did not know the dangerous quality of the buffalo, or they would not have risked this. “Run! Run!” cried the sergeant. “Oh, why didn’t I bring a gun. They’ll be killed!” “No they won’t!” declared C. C., as he knelt down to take aim at the foremost bull with a heavy elephant gun. “Come on!” fairly screamed the sergeant, for he knew the terrible power of the buffalo’s horns. “I guess we’ve got enough,” cried Blake. “Grab the tripod, Joe, and I’ll take the camera!” The tripod, made for quick detachment, was slipped off by Joe, and together the two lads made back-tracks. The buffaloes were coming on. “Crack!” snapped out C. C.’s gun, and it was seen that he had not boasted vainly of his prowess. The big bull seemed to crumple up, and turned a complete somersault. Whether it was this queer action on his part, or whether the herd did not like the sound of the gun, was not made manifest. At any rate, they stopped, and, after waiting a moment, they wheeled around and retreated--that is, all but the big bull. He had been killed. “A dandy shot!” exclaimed the sergeant, admiringly. “I wish I had time to get his head,” said C. C., regretfully. As the other buffaloes disappeared, the boys walked up to look at the creature. Truly he was a large and fine specimen, and they took some pictures of it to finish out their film. They went on for some distance farther, but saw nothing worth taking. Then the engine whistle blew, and they started back. On the return they passed a water hole, and from a screen of bushes some views were taken of small animals, including some gazelles, coming to drink. “Well, that will do for a starter,” announced Joe, as they neared the train. “Pretty good, too,” declared Blake. “But when we get away from the railroad and into the real jungle, we’ll do better.”