THE RAFT
SCARCELY had the aircraft come to a stop, gliding over the water, than
scores of canoes, smaller than those used by the pirates, but containing
fully as many savages, put out from the sheltered shore of the little
bay and began approaching the machine housing Tom Swift and his party.
Their horrid cries rent the air and they brandished their spears, axes,
clubs and bows and arrows.
“What are we going to do, Tom?” asked Ned. “Are you going to fight them
or scare them?”
“You can’t scare these natives!” shouted Peltok. “They are utterly
savage. They have no gods. They worship only human heads, and they are
after ours.”
“Then we won’t waste any time parleying,” decided the young inventor.
“Unlimber the machine gun!” he called to Hartman and Brinkley. “Ned, get
out the rifles! If they want to fight we’ll give ’em one!”
“But what if we can’t beat ’em off?” asked Ned, as he ran to get some of
the arms. “We’ll be stuck here sha'n’t we, with one propeller gone?”
“We’ll be stuck if we can’t ship a new one, but we have two spares,”
said Tom. “We’ve got to fight these head-hunters off—that’s all there
is to it!”
Realizing how desperate was their situation, the party, one and all,
resolved to die fighting rather than fall into the hands of the evil
savages.
The machine gun was set up on its tripod just outside the motor room, on
a small platform which was hastily screened in by some boxes, chests and
movable lockers. Hartman and Brinkley, who were to work this automatic
weapon, would thus be protected from the spears and arrows of the
head-hunters. Luckily the islanders did not seem to possess firearms.
Tom, Ned and Peltok would take their stand in the front cabin and fire
on the savages from there. No sooner were these measures of defense
taken than the head-hunters rushed to the attack, yelling, shouting, and
brandishing their weapons.
There was quite a party of them coming up in canoes at the stern of the
floating airship, and Tom, seeing this, yelled to the machine gunners:
“Let ’em have it!”
A moment later the automatic began its staccato roar and the bullets
fairly riddled several canoes, sinking them, spilling their warriors and
paddlers into the water, and killing numbers of them.
But while the rear attack was thus repulsed, there was a rush toward the
front and sides. There the savages were met with a sharp fire from the
rifles of Tom, Ned and Peltok, and great execution was done.
With yells of dismay at this hot reception, most of the canoes that were
not disabled swung back, but one containing half a score of natives
dashed on and bumped against the fuselage of the aircraft. Screaming and
brandishing their weapons, the occupants tried to swarm up the slippery
metal sides.
“Repel boarders!” yelled Tom, rushing out, followed by the others.
Despite a flight of arrows and spears, one of which latter wounded
Peltok and Ned slightly, the three drove the invaders back, firing in
their very faces, and actually kicking some of them off into the water.
Then this canoe turned back, but not before several of the occupants had
been killed.
“Good work!” cried Tom, turning to go back to the shelter of the cabin
to avoid more arrows and spears which were now showering toward the _Air
Monarch_. “A little more of this and we’ll have them on the run.”
As he spoke he uttered a cry of pain, for an arrow took him in the
thigh, inflicting a painful wound.
“It may have been a poisoned arrow, too!” said Peltok. “Better put some
disinfectant in the wound.” This Tom did, in the shelter of the cabin.
After the first rush the head-hunters withdrew, their ardor somewhat
cooled. But Tom and his companions knew the fight was not yet over. The
canoes still hung about and more savages were coming to the coast from
the interior of the island. Some of them bore freshly severed heads, and
it was a foretaste of what might happen to Tom Swift and his party
should they be captured.
Meanwhile, Hartman and Brinkley had used the machine gun to such good
advantage that they had repulsed the savages at the rear with great
loss, though both machinists had been slightly wounded by arrows.
All five of the airship occupants were now hurt, but none of the wounds
amounted to much save in the case of Tom Swift, and he made light of his
pierced thigh. It was, however, very painful.
“What are we going to do?” asked Ned, who was beginning to lose heart
when he saw the increasing crowd of savages and realized that the
airship was disabled.
“Do?” cried Tom. “Why, we’re going to carry on, of course! It will not
take long to attach a new propeller, and we’ll have to fight off these
imps while it’s being done. Hartman and Brinkley can do the work, while
you and I, Ned, with Peltok, will stand guard.”
This program was carried out, though under great difficulties. The
head-hunters, in spite of their heavy losses, returned to the attack
soon after the two machinists began attaching the spare propeller. The
old one had lost a blade, possibly through some defect in it, Tom
decided.
Ned and Peltok worked the machine gun at the stern, thus protecting
Hartman and Brinkley from an overwhelming rush, while Tom, with several
magazine rifles ready to hand, peppered the natives who sought to come
at the craft from the front.
In this way the fight and repair work went on for a couple of hours,
until, at last, the execution among the head-hunters was so great that
they were forced to withdraw. Ned received another slight scratch from
an arrow, but there were no other casualties on board the _Air Monarch_,
which was rapidly being put in shape for another flight.
It was not until late in the afternoon, however, and following a most
strenuous hour, that the machinists announced that the propeller was in
place.
“And it’s about time, too,” said Tom. “I think the head-hunters are
going to make another grand rush.”
This was plainly evident from the additional canoes that were being
filled with islanders who swarmed down to the shore. They seemed
determined, no matter how severe their own losses, to get the heads of
these strangers.
Peltok tried to listen to the shouted talk of the savages, but had to
admit that they spoke a dialect unfamiliar to him. However, it was
evident that the yells and shouts had to do with the intentions of the
war party.
“Here they come!” yelled Ned, when word had been given to start the
motors. “Wow, what a mob!”
Hundreds of the head-hunters were now paddling to the attack. But when
they were within range they were met with a sharp fire from the rifles
and machine guns. At the same time the _Air Monarch_ began moving, and
before the attackers could get close enough to interpose their canoes in
her path, the machine had risen and was soon high over their heads and
out of danger.
“Whew!” whistled Ned as they sailed on. “If we don’t get the prize for
the international race, Tom, we ought to get one for an international
globe-circling fight. We’ve had a lot of it since we started.”
“Yes, we have,” Tom admitted, wincing a bit as he moved his wounded leg.
“And we may have more. We still have Kilborn to reckon with.”
“I wonder where he is,” mused Ned as the machine straightened out on her
course.
“Hard to say,” was the answer. “But we aren’t making as good time as I’d
like to make. He may pull in ahead of us.”
At the thought of this the speed of the craft was increased and as night
came she was winging her way over the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean
toward the shores of the United States.
It was just at dawn the next morning when Ned, who had got up early to
make Tom a cup of coffee, looked down toward the sea. What he saw caused
him to cry out.
“What is it?” asked his chum.
“There’s a raft just below us.”
“A raft?”
“Yes, with a couple of people on it. Looks like a raft from a wrecked
ship. I think they are castaways. Can’t we rescue them, Tom?”
The young inventor came limping out of his cabin to look down at the
sea. Rising and falling on the heaving swells below the _Air Monarch_
was a big raft, on which were two men waving frantically to those
sailing above their heads in the airship. Faintly their cries floated
up, for the _Air Monarch_ was flying low.
“Help! Help!” the castaways shouted.