CHAPTER XIV

A STAMPEDE

"Look to your guns, everybody!" cautioned Mr. Durban. "It's no joke

to be caught in an elephant herd with an unloaded rifle. Have you

plenty of ammunition, Mr. Damon?"

"Ammunition? Bless my powder bag, I think I have enough for all the

elephants I'll kill. If I get one of the big beasts I'll be

satisfied. Bless my piano keys! I think I see them, Tom!"

He pointed off through the thick jungle. Surely something was moving

there amid the trees; great slate-colored bodies, massive forms and

waving trunks! The trumpeting increased, and the crashing of the

underbrush sounded louder and nearer.

"There they are!" cried Tom Swift joyously.

"Now for my first big game!" yelled Ned Newton.

"Take it easy," advised Mr. Anderson. "Remember to aim for the spot

I mentioned to you as being the best, just at the base of the skull.

If you can't make a head shot, or through the eye, try for the

heart. But with the big bullets we have, almost any kind of a shot,

near a vital spot, will answer."

"And Tom can fire at their TOES and put them out of business,"

declared Ned, who was eagerly advancing. "How about it, Tom?"

"Well, I guess the electric rifle will come up to expectations. Say,

Mr. Durban, they seem to be heading this way!" excitedly cried Tom,

as the herd of big beasts suddenly turned and changed their course.

"Yes, they are," admitted the old elephant hunter calmly. "But that

won't matter. Take it easy. Kill all you can."

"But we don't want to put too many out of business," said Tom, who

was not needlessly cruel, even in hunting.

"I know that," answered Mr. Durban. "But this is a case of

necessity. I've got to get ivory, and we have to kill quite a few

elephants to accomplish this. Besides the brutes will head for the

village and the natives' grain fields, and trample them down, if

they're not headed back. So all together now, we'll give them a

volley. This is a good place! There they are. All line up now. Get

ready!"

He halted, and the others followed his example. The natives had come

to a stop some time before, and were huddled together in the jungle

back of our friends, waiting to see the result of the white men's

shots.

Tom, Ned, Mr. Damon, and the two older hunters were on an irregular

line in the forest. Before them was the mass of elephants advancing

slowly, and feeding on the tender leaves of trees as they came on.

They would reach up with their long trunks, strip off the foliage,

and stuff it into their mouths. Sometimes, they even pulled up small

trees by the roots for the purpose of stripping them more easily.

"Jove! There are some big tuskers in that bunch!" cried Mr. Durban.

"Aim for the bulls, every one, don't kill the mothers or little

ones." Tom now saw that there were a number of baby Elephants in the

herd, and he appreciated the hunter's desire to spare them and their

mothers.

"Here we go!" exclaimed Mr. Durban, as he saw that Tom and the

others were ready. "Aim! Fire!"

There were thundering reports that awoke the echoes of the jungle,

and the sounds of the rifles were followed by shrill trumpets of

rage. When the smoke blew away three elephants were seen prostrate,

or, rather two, and part of another one. The last was almost blown

to pieces by Tom Swift's electric rifle; for the young inventor had

used a little too heavy charge, and the big beast had been almost

annihilated.

Mr. Durban had dropped his bull with a well-directed shot, and Mr.

Anderson had a smaller one to his credit.

"I guess I missed mine," said Ned ruefully.

"Bless my dress-suit case!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "So did I!"

"One of you hit that fellow!" cried Mr. Durban. "He's wounded."

He pointed to a fair-sized bull who was running wildly about,

uttering shrill cries of anger. The other beasts had gathered in a

compact mass, with the larger bulls, or tuskers, on the outside, to

protect the females and young.

"I'll try a shot at him," said Tom, and raising his electric, gun,

he took quick aim. The elephant dropped in his tracks, for this time

the young inventor had correctly adjusted the power of the wireless

bullet.

"Good!" cried Mr. Durban. "Give them some more! This is some of the

best ivory I've seen yet!"

As he spoke he fired, and bowled over another magnificent specimen.

Ned Newton, determined 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 when he saw how effective the

electric weapon was.

There was a shout of joy from the natives in the rear. They saw the

slain creatures and knew there would be much fresh meat and feasting

for them for days to come.

Suddenly Mr. Durban cried out: "Fire again, Tom! Fire everybody! The

whole herd is coming this way. If we don't stop them they'll overrun

the fields and village, and may smash the airship! Fire again!"

Almost as he spoke, the rush, which had been stopped momentarily,

when Tom dropped the wounded elephant, began again. With shrill

menacing cries the score of bulls in the lead came on, followed this

time by the females and the young.

"It's a stampede!" yelled Mr. Anderson, firing into the midst of the

herd. Mr. Durban was working frantically at his clogged rifle. Ned

and Mr. Damon both fired, and Tom Swift, adjusting his weapon to

give the heaviest charges, shot a fusillade of wireless bullets into

the center of the advancing elephants, who were now wild with fear

and anger.

"It's a stampede all right!" said Tom, when he saw that the big

creatures were not going to stop, in spite of the deadly fire poured

into them.

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