." And the General
spoke very seriously. "You must never repeat what he said to a soul, or
mention his name. In British Africa they have hunted him for years, by
regiments; there's a price on his head of some thousands of pounds, and
he's slipped into and out of the country whenever he liked. He's
defeated the Somali troops and even the white regulars time and again,
and no one knows how he gets into the ivory country. He does it for
sheer love of the game, for he has a fortune of his own."

"You mean," asked the puzzled and wondering Charlie, "that he's one of
the ivory raiders?"

"He's _the_ ivory raider of them all," nodded Schoverling, "and the
biggest man in the club here. For all his scornful words, not a man
there but would bite off his tongue sooner than repeat that Mowbray was
starting for Africa to-day. Why, the British would pay a thousand pounds
for those half-dozen words! Now just forget it, boys."

Forget it! It was a long time before Charlie ever forgot the sight of
that little man, and the time came when he was to remember him more
vividly still, as was Jack also. Neither of them gave any thought to the
muttered "Me debbil man." If Schoverling did, he betrayed no inkling of
it through his bronzed mask of a face.

That night they were aboard the steamer. During the days that followed
Charlie enjoyed every minute of the time, as did Jack also. But they
were both accustomed to hard work, and the luxuries of civilization,
where everything was done for them, soon grew monotonous. When they had
gone over their beloved guns, oiling every inch, and received
instructions for the use of the few simple medicines taken along, there
was little to do except to read up on Africa, which labor they threw
themselves into gladly.

They saw little of von Hofe on the way over, for he was busy on some
chemical experiments; but the day before they reached Gibraltar a
strange odor, which permeated the whole ship, drew down on him the wrath
of the captain, after which the big Teuton abandoned his beloved
mixtures.

The whole voyage to Port Said was uneventful in actual happenings. But
at Port Said they went aboard the _Mombasa_, and off Aden they had the
pleasure of meeting the gentlemanly Selim ben Amoud, and of first
hearing of the Magic Lake and its mysterious Rogue Elephant guardian.

CHAPTER III

QUILQUA THE MYSTERIOUS

He was a suave, polished, open-shirted Arab, who appeared the morning
after they had