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TOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RIFLE

jungle, which led from the village where they were encamped, to another, several miles away. This trail was too small for the elephants, and, indeed, had to be taken in single file by the travelers.

But it prevented the elephants making the same speed as did our friends, for the jungle, at this point, consisted of heavy trees, which halted the progress of even the strongest of the powerful beasts. True, they could force aside the frail underbrush and the small trees, but the others impeded their progress.

"We'll get there ahead of them!" cried Tom. "Have you got your rifle in working order yet, Mr. Durban?"

"No, something has broken, I fear. We'll have to depend on your electric gun, Tom. Have you many charges left?"

"A dozen or so. But Ned and the others have plenty of ammunition."

"Don't count—on—me!" panted Mr. Damon, who was well-nigh breathless from the run. "I—can't—aim—straight—any—more!"

"I'll give 'em a few more bullets!" declared Mr. Anderson.

The fleeing natives were now almost lost to sight, for they could travel through the jungle, ignoring the trail, at high speed. They were