m the General had proposed to take with him to Africa. Born in Nova
Scotia, he had tramped his way across the continent at the age of
seventeen, when his father died. Catching the Peace River fever he had
made his way back to Calgary, then up to Peace River Landing, where he
went to work to make enough money to turn homesteader. At this juncture
Schoverling had met him while on a hunting trip. The General had become
keenly interested in the boy, whose ambitions were high. Charlie was
accustomed to depending on himself, which caught the explorer's fancy.
He had knocked the homesteading notion out of Charlie's head and got him
a position at Calgary, where he was now learning the trade of
electrician.

So when Charlie walked into the office on that Saturday morning and
found a bulky letter from the Explorers' Club, he tore it open in keen
anticipation. For five minutes he stood reading in amazement; then he
uttered a yell that brought the eyes of the office force down on him,
and rushed to the paymaster's desk.

"Give me my time, Mr. Clarke!" he cried, his gray eyes and pleasant,
healthy face denoting high excitement. "I've got to quit right off!"

"What's the matter? Fallen heir to a million?" laughed the man behind
the window, who was used to his men quitting at a moment's notice.

"Better than that! Jumping sandhills! I'm going to Africa!" almost
shouted the boy, as he grabbed his pay envelope and put for the door.

"Hey! Better take your hat!" shouted some one, and Charlie made a quick
return for his forgotten headgear, then vanished. When he found himself
in his boarding-house room with the door locked, he flung off his coat
and settled down to read over once more the wonderful letter. It was
written in the customary vein of the explorer--as if he was talking to
his reader.

"_My dear Charlie_:--

"_Draw your time and beat it for New York. Meet me at the Explorers'
Club at noon of the 22nd. Bring Jack Sawtooth ditto. You don't know him
but you will soon. We're going to Africa--sail the night of the 22nd, so
hump yourself, old man!_

"_First for the expedition. Remember asking me once why all explorers
couldn't live off the land, as we did up the Mackenzie that winter? I
said then that it could be done, and you're going to help prove me right
in Africa. We're going to hunt elephant--not where you get them driven
up while you sit in a camp-chair, either. We're going after bulls,
rogues, the big fellows who live