“But it’s a good trail to follow,” spoke Joe. “Yes, indeed,” agreed C. C. Piper. “When a herd of elephants go along, they don’t stop for small obstacles. They knock down anything that gets in their way. That makes it good for us. But if we go after these big beasts we may all----” Unconsciously he was falling into his old habit of predicting misfortune, but he caught himself in time, as he saw Blake and Joe looking curiously at him. “You didn’t catch me that time!” he cried, gaily. “Everything is going to be lovely, and you’ll get some fine views; I’m sure.” “That’s the way to talk!” cried Blake, encouragingly. “Well, let’s move,” suggested Joe. “This is better than crawling through a jungle.” “But won’t it take us too far away from our search?” asked Mr. Duncan, anxiously. “I want to get to the village where those desperate kidnappers are. My poor Jessie may be suffering all sorts of hardships.” “I appreciate that,” said the sergeant, gently; “and we won’t lose a moment more of time than is necessary. But we must keep the porters well supplied with meat, or they will desert us, and then we would be helpless in the midst of the jungle. So if we can get an elephant it will be to our advantage. “Then, too, this trail is an easy one to follow, and though it is somewhat out of our way we can, in the end, save time by following it.” “That’s all I want to know,” said the father. “I want the boys to get their pictures; but, oh! I do so want to find Jessie!” “And so do I, Dad!” cried Joe. “And we will find her, too. We won’t waste any time, but we’ve got to depend on our porters when it comes to the last, and there may be a fight.” “Yes, that is so,” admitted Mr. Duncan. They took up the elephant trail, and followed it until nightfall. They made camp near a spring, and Joe, who went out to trace a bird with a peculiar call, was lucky enough to shoot an eland, which furnished the camp with meat, and sent the porters into transports of joy. Early the next morning, after an uneventful night, save that lions roared in the distance, and hyenas howled, they again took up the trail. They followed it for three days, but could not seem to come up to the big creatures. Once or twice they heard them in the distance, crashing through the underbrush, and pulling up thorn trees on which they fed. But the wind was blowing from behind, carrying the scent from the hunters directly to the pachyderms, so that they were continually being alarmed and kept on the march. “But when the wind dies down, or changes, we’ll have a good chance,” said the sergeant, and C. C. Piper agreed with him. “They’ll get tired of being continually on the move,” went on the former soldier, “and stop to rest.” “Maybe they’ll lie down and go to sleep,” suggested Joe. “Elephants sleep standing up, as a rule,” said the sergeant. “It’s only one of their queer habits.”