SAFARI HUNTERS 151 
war, and making a pot, went into the Congo to poach 
elephants. They had good shooting at first, then no 
luck at all. Their supplies were nearly exhausted. 
But they took heart one evening when they came 
upon elephant signs and carefully laid their plans 
for the next day’s hunt. A last pot of jam remained 
in their commissariat, and a last pot of jam is treasured 
by a man in that country as one saves a last bottle 
of champagne. The hunter must have fruit, and 
since no wild fruit grows there, in the old days his 
supplies included large quantities of preserved fruit 
and marmalade. The three adventurers had saved 
that last pot of jam to be used to celebrate and they 
agreed that the time for celebration had come pro- 
vided they brought home ivory on the morrow. Their 
plan was that each man should take a different direc- 
tion. On his return that night the first hunter’s trail 
crossed that of one of his companions. Both had 
their ivory and they went into camp together raven- 
ously hungry, their appetites whetted by anticipation, 
to find that the third fellow had stayed in camp all 
day and had eaten the jam alone and unabetted. His 
companions saw red. The normal thing in a frontier 
country when a man fails to play his part is to kill 
him. That was their intention, but they made up 
their minds not to be rash about it. They decided to 
take the man into the woods some morning and come 
back alone. But they thought better—or worse— 
of it the next day. 
The story ends in Tarlton’s own words: 
““Well, ladies and gentlemen, my next book will 
