FROM NAPLES TO THE RED SEA 
17 
running water with almost no clothes on seemed 
about the nicest possible way to pass the time. 
There was a professional elephant hunter on 
Little Tim, 
board. He was a quiet, reserved sort of man, pleas¬ 
ant, and not at all bloodthirsty in appearance. He 
had spent twenty years shooting in Africa, and had 
killed three hundred elephants. On his last trip, dur¬ 
ing which he spent nearly four years in the Congo, 
