to make a record of at least one, fired again, and to his delight, saw a big fellow drop.
"I got him!" he yelled.
Mr. Anderson also got another, and then Mr. Damon, blessing something which his friends could not make out, fired at one of the largest bulls in the herd.
"You only nipped him!" exclaimed Mr. Durban when the smoke had drifted away. "I guess I'll put him out of his misery!"
He raised his weapon and pulled the trigger but no report followed. He uttered an exclamation of dismay.
"The breech-action has jammed!" he exclaimed. "Drop him, Tom. He's scented us, and is headed this way. The whole herd will follow in a minute."
Already the big brute wounded by Mr. Damon had trumpeted out a cry of rage and defiance. It was echoed by his mates. Then, with upraised trunk, he darted forward, followed by a score of big tuskers.
But Tom had heard and understood. The leading beast had not taken three steps before he dropped under the deadly and certain fire of the young inventor.
"Bless my wishbone!" cried Mr. Damon,
