But, almost as he spoke, the tide of battle turned. The elephants
suddenly swung about, and began a retreat. They could not stand the
hot fire of the four guns, including Tom's fearful weapon. With wild
trumpetings they fled back into the jungle, leaving a number of
their dead behind.

"A close call," murmured Tom, as he drew a breath of relief. Indeed
this was true, for the tide had turned when the foremost elephants
were not a hundred feet away from the first rows of native huts.

"I should say it was," agreed Ned Newton, wiping his face with his
handkerchief. He, as well as the others, was an odd-looking sight.
They were blackened by powder smoke, scratched by briars, and red
from exertion.

"But we got more ivory in this hour than I could have secured in a
week of ordinary hunting" declared Mr. Durban. "If this keeps up we
won't have to get much more, except that I don't think any of the
tusks to-day are large enough for the special purpose of my
customer."

"The sooner we get enough ivory the quicker we can go to the rescue
of the missionaries," said Mr. Anderson.

"That's so," remarked Tom. "We must not forget the red pygmies."

The natives were now dancing about, wild in delight at the prospect
of unlimited eating, and also thankful for what the white men had
done for them. Alone, the blacks would never have been able to stop
the stampede. They were soon busy cutting up the elephants ready for