INDIANS OF THE AMAZON.
The sun was hardly an hour high the following morning before all was
in readiness for the start. In fact, the party waited only to despatch
breakfast and make a last thorough inspection of the flying auto. All
other details had been attended to the night before.
Hearty good-byes were said to Judkins, who had proved himself a decent
sort of fellow, and who had had but little part in the schemes of the
rascally crew of the _Valkyrie_. This done, the party got on board and
the lines were cast off.
It had been decided to follow the river for some distance further, as
the professor and Captain Sprowl had an idea that it might prove to be
an arm of one of the larger tributaries of the Amazon. At five-thirty
that morning Jack set the propeller in motion and the machine glided
off up the river without a hitch.
With rapidly throbbing engines she negotiated bend after bend, and at
last reached a spot where the stream appeared to be growing rapidly
narrower. As a consequence of this, the current increased in velocity
till navigation was difficult.
“This won’t do,” declared Jack, glancing at his instruments; “we have
only made fifteen miles in the last hour. If you are agreeable we will
go up now. We’ve come as far as we can profitably go on this stream.”
They all agreed with him, and presently a hissing sound told that gas
was rushing into the big bag, inflating it for flight. Tom adjusted the
hydroplanes to a position fit for aerial use, for they had found that,
except on rough water, the _Wondership_ would float as well without her
hydroplanes as with them. This was doubtless due to her broad beam and
general boat-like proportions.
In the midst of their preparations, or rather just as the _Wondership_
was ready to take wing, there was a rustling sound in the bushes, and
without warning a score of savage forms burst through the jungle.
It was evident at a glance that they formed a portion of a hunting
party, for some of them carried the carcass of a deer. The others,
coppery-colored specimens, carried bows, long slender spears and
another weapon that looked as if it was formed out of a long tube of
bamboo.
For an instant they appeared as much astonished at the sight of the
adventurers as the white men were at their sudden apparitions. They
stood stock still, staring at the huge swelling gas-bag, the gleaming
metal car of the _Wondership_ and the occupants of the craft, as if
they had been graven out of stone. This afforded a good opportunity
for the astonished party to survey these children of the forest.
Some of them, leaders or head men, apparently, wore ornaments, collars
and waist bands decorated with macaw feathers and bits of bone. Others
were attired simply in sandals made of bark, and wore a sort of loin
cloth made of snake skin. Their hair was thick, fairly long and inky
black, their skins, as has been said, of a coppery hue. As to their
general build, they were decidedly undersized, almost dwarfs, judged
by Caucasian standards. They were, in fact, a hunting party of the
war-like Tupi-Guaranian race which roams the forests of Brazil.
All at once, and without giving the party of travelers any opportunity
for parley, several of the Indians raised the long pipes to their lips
and a rain of tiny darts came about those in the craft. One of these
darts struck Dick in the hand and inflicted a painful wound.
“Up, get up! Those blow pipe things may be poisoned!” cried Captain
Sprowl.
He snatched up a rifle and in a minute some of the Indians would have
paid the penalty of their attack, but that Mr. Chadwick caught the
irate mariner’s arm.
“Don’t shoot. They know no better,” he exclaimed.
“Then they ought to be taught,” grunted the angry captain. “Look there,
will you? That’s all the harm they mean!”
As he spoke, the Indians retired behind the trees and began to pour in
a rain of arrows.
But luckily, Tom and the rest had by this time recovered their wits.
The metal panels used to make the _Wondership_ a water-tight craft were
slid into place and locked, making the craft a cigar-shaped stronghold
which no arrow could pierce.
In the sides of the rounded panels were portholes of thick glass
through which they could witness the amazement of the Indians at this
move. The darts and arrows, and now and then a spear, pattered and
rattled against the metal like hail, but for all the damage they did
they might as well not have been thrown. The tough metal turned their
points like armored steel.
“Talk about bein’ snug!” cried the skipper admiringly. “Why this craft
could go any place without gettin’ harmed.”
“We meant these panels to keep out water in rough weather,” said Jack,
“but they do just as well as a protection against Indians. I never
thought they’d be put to this use, though.”
“All ready to go up,” he said presently.
“Then let her go!” cried Mr. Chadwick.
The great craft quivered and swayed and then rose straight up from the
river while the astonished Indians yelled and then threw themselves on
their faces in terror. Up like a bullet from a rifle the graceful craft
shot, until it was soaring high above the tree tops. Then the panels
were slid back and the passenger part of the machine was once more open
to the air.
They looked down at the Indians. Dwarfed to mere specks they could see
the Tupi-Guaranians gazing upward and shooting their bows and arrows
and their blow-pipes,—the latter form of weapon believed to be peculiar
to the Amazonian tribes.
“Well, that shows us what sort of a reception the Indians of this
country are inclined to give us,” commented Mr. Chadwick.
“But consarn the pesky skunks, I reckon that this sky clipper can
give ‘em all the go-by if it comes to that,” declared Captain Sprowl
belligerently. “That way you boys have of turning it into a fort is
certainly the greatest wrinkle I’ve struck in a long time.”
“And it’s a use for those panels of which we never dreamed,” cried Tom
with enthusiasm.
“What’s the matter?” he asked the next minute, as Jack struggled with
the steering wheel.
“I don’t know, the rudder appears to be jammed. Climb out astern there
and take a look, will you? Or let Dick do it, he’s sitting behind.”
But Dick was having his hand bandaged, so the task fell to Tom.
The young reporter’s dart wound was hurting considerably, and as a
precaution against poison Mr. Chadwick, before he dressed the inflamed
place, had ordered the boy to suck it so as to extract what poison
was in it, in case the dart had been “doctored.” As an additional
precaution he tied the boy’s arm above the wound with a handkerchief,
twisting it till circulation was cut off.
Tom lifted the movable seat and made his way back to where the rudder
frames and braces extended behind the craft like the tail of a bird. He
leaned over to ascertain the cause of the trouble Jack had complained
about.
As he shoved his face over the back of the craft, something whizzed
viciously past his ear, and with a yell Tom tumbled backward, almost
on top of Mr. Chadwick.
“What’s up?” exclaimed Dick.
“Th-th-there’s a man out there!” stuttered the astonished Tom. “He’s
clinging to the rudder. It’s one of those Indians and he threw a spear
at me!”
“Gracious! He must have climbed on to attack us before we went up!”
cried Jack.
“Get him inside the ship,” said Mr. Chadwick. “He’ll be killed if he
lets go!”
“Let somebody else get him in,” declared Tom. “He nearly took my head
off with that spear. It’s not my fault he didn’t, either.”
[Illustration: With a yell Tom tumbled backward.—_Page_ 204.]