And so, the next morning, in spite of the advice of Happy One, they trekked south. It was useless to look for clues, but there seemed to be a sort of rough trail leading from the station to the southward, and this was taken. They were three days on the march--days fraught with danger and discomfort, for part of the way lay through a swamp which was too large to go around. Once some of the porters sank to their hips, and only prompt work saved them and their precious loads. For the expedition was now getting far from all sources of supplies, and everything they had with them was of vital necessity. Again they stirred up a herd of buffalo, which were on the point of charging, and only a fusillade of shots drove them away. On this occasion Blake and Joe tried for some moving pictures, but, though they got out their cameras as soon as the herd was turned aside, it was too late, and only some unsatisfactory films were obtained. Another time, at dusk, they disturbed a couple of the prehensile-lip rhinoceroses, who blindly charged, though our friends had no intention of harming them. C. C. Piper had to do some quick shooting then. He killed one of the queer beasts and wounded another, and the slain one made the natives happy, for they were short of meat. But on one occasion the boys did get a series of fine pictures. This was at a water hole, in the midst of a plain surrounded by a growth of timber which gave them a screen. They ascended a tree with their camera, and after a long wait they succeeded in filming a number of baboons as they came to drink. Then came a couple of giraffes, which spread their tall front legs in ungainly fashion in order to bring their heads close enough to sip the water in the low pool. Afterward came a family of elephants, one a little one, and they drank their fill, the baboons retiring a safe distance, being the weaker animals, though this species is dangerous in the extreme. With their terrible teeth and their claws they are, in small droves, a match for many animals--but not the elephant. “A good day’s work!” exclaimed Joe, when they came away from the water hole. “Some dandy films!” was Blake’s opinion. “And, best of all, we didn’t have to go out of our way to get them,” for they were still traveling south on the trail of the kidnapped missionaries. There had been some indications of the passage of a body of natives in that direction. Whether or not they had with them Jessie and the other white captives was a matter of conjecture. Still Joe and his father had hopes. They would not give up until the last.