SEEKING THE MISSIONARIES
"Here! Come back!" yelled Mr. Damon and Mr. Anderson, in the same
breath, while the old elephant hunter cried out: "Don't you know
you're risking your life, Tom to go off in the dark, to trail a
lion?"
"I can't stand it to let the native be carried off!" Tom shouted
back.
"But you can't see in the dark," objected Mr. Anderson. He had
probably forgotten the peculiar property of the electric rifle. Tom
kept on, and the others slowly followed.
The natives had at once ceased their merrymaking at the roaring of
the lions, and now all were gathered close about the campfires, on
which more wood had been piled, to drive away the fearsome brutes.
"There must be a lot of them," observed Mr. Durban, as menacing
growls and roars came from the jungle, along the edge of which Tom
and the others were walking just then. "There are so many of the
brutes that they are bold, and they must be hungry, too. They came
close to our fire, because it wasn't so bright as the other blazes,
and that native must have wandered off into the forest. Well, I
guess it's all up with him."
"He's screaming yet," observed Ned.
Indeed, above the rumbling roars of the lions, and the crackling of
the campfires, could be heard the moaning cries of the unfortunate
black.
"He's right close here!" suddenly called Tom. "He's skirting the
jungle. I think I can get him!"
"Don't take any risks!" called Mr. Durban, who had caught up his own
rifle, that was now in working order again.
Tom Swift was not in sight. He had now penetrated into the jungle--into
the black forest where stalked the savage lions, intent on
getting other prey. Mr. Durban and Mr. Anderson vainly tried to
pierce the darkness to see something at which to shoot. Ned Newton
had eagerly started to follow his chum, but could not discern where
Tom was. A nameless fear clutched at the lad's heart. Mr. Damon was
softly blessing everything of which he could think.
Once more came that pitiful cry from the native, who was, as they
afterward learned, being dragged along by the lion, who had grabbed
him by the shoulder.
Suddenly in the dense jungle there shone a purple-bluish light. It
illuminated the scene like some great sky-rocket for an instant, and
in that brief time Ned and the others caught sight of a great, tawny
form, bounding along. It was a lion, with head held high, dragging
along a helpless black man.
A second later, and before the intense glare had died away, the
watchers saw the lion gently sink down, as though weary. He stopped
short in his tracks, his head rolled back, the jaws relaxed and the
native, who was unconscious now, toppled to one side.
"Tom's killed him with the electric rifle!" cried Mr. Durban.
"Bless my incandescent lamp! so he has," agreed Mr. Damon. "Bless my
dynamo! but that's a wonderful gun, it's as powerful as a
thunderbolt, or as gentle as a summer shower."
Mr. Durban seeing that the lion was dead, in that brief glance he
had had of the brute, called to some of the natives to come and get
their tribesman. They came, timidly enough at first, carrying many
torches, but when they understood that the lion was dead, they
advanced more boldly. They carried the wounded black to a hut, where
they applied their simple but effective remedies for the cruel bite
in his shoulder.
After Tom had shot several other of the illuminated charges into the
jungle, to see if he could discover any more lions, but failed to do
so, he and his friends returned to the anchored airship, amid the
murmured thanks of the Africans.
Bright fires were kept blazing all the rest of the night, but,
though lions could be heard roaring in the jungle, and though they
approached alarmingly close to the place where our friends were
encamped, none of the savage brutes ventured within the clearing.
With the valuable store of ivory aboard the Black Hawk, which was
now completely repaired, an early start was made the next morning.
The Africans besought Tom and his companions to remain, for it was
not often they could have the services of white men in slaying
elephants and lions.
"But, we've got to get on the trail," decided Tom, when the natives
had brought great stores of food, and such simple presents as they
possessed, to induce the travelers to remain.
"Every hour may add to the danger of the missionaries in the hands
of the red pygmies."
"Yes," said Mr. Anderson gravely, "it is our duty to save them."
And so the airship mounted into the air, our friends waving
farewells to the simple-hearted blacks, who did a sort of farewell
war-dance in their honor, shouting their praises aloud, and beating
the drums and tom-toms, so that the echoes followed for some time
after the Black Hawk had begun to mount upward toward the sky.
The craft was in excellent shape, due to the overhauling Tom had
given it while making the repairs. With the propellers beating the
air, and the rudder set to hold them about two thousand feet high,
the travelers moved rapidly over clearings, forests and jungles.
It was agreed that now, when they had made such a good start in
collecting ivory, that they would spend the next few days in trying
to get on the trail of the red pygmies. It might seem a simple
matter, after knowing the approximate location of the land of these
fierce little natives, to have proceeded directly to it. But Africa
is an immense continent, and even in an airship comparatively little
of the interior can be seen at a time.
Besides, the red pygmies had a habit of moving from place to place,
and they were so small, and so wild, capable of living in very tiny
huts or caves, and so primitive, not building regular villages as
the other Africans do, that as Ned said, they were as hard to locate
as the proverbial flea.
Our friends had a general idea of where to look for them, but on
nearing that land, and making inquiries of several friendly tribes,
they learned that the red pygmies had suddenly disappeared from
their usual haunts.
"I guess they heard that we were after them," said Tom, with a grim
smile one day, as he sent the airship down toward the earth, for
they were over a great plain, and several native villages could be
seen dotted on its surface.
"More likely they are in hiding because they have as captives two
white persons," said Mr. Anderson. "They are fierce and fearless,
but, nevertheless, they have, in times past, felt the vengeance of
the white man, and perhaps they dread that now."
They made a descent, and spent several days making inquiries from
the friendly blacks about the race of little men. But scarcely
anything was learned. Some of the negro tribes admitted having heard
of the red pygmies, and others, with superstitious incantations and
imprecations, said they had never heard of them.
One tribe of very large negroes had heard a rumor to the effect that
the band of the pygmies was several days' journey from their
village, across the mountains, and when Tom sent his airship there,
the searchers only found an impenetrable jungle, filled with lions
and other wild beasts, but not a sign of the pygmies, and with no
elephants to reward their search.
"But we're not going to give up," declared Tom, and the others
agreed with him. Forward went the Black Hawk in the search for the
imprisoned ones, but, as the days passed, and no news was had, it
seemed to grow more and more hopeless.
"I'm afraid if we do find them now," remarked Mr. Anderson at
length, "that we'll only recover the bodies of the missionaries."
"Then we'll avenge them," said Tom quietly.
They had stopped at another native village to make inquiries, but
without result, and were about to start off again that night when a
runner came in to announce that a herd of big elephants was feeding
not many miles away.
"Well, we'll stay over a day or so, and get some more ivory,"
decided Mr. Durban and that night they got ready for what was to
prove a big hunt.