CHAPTER XVIII
NEWS OF THE RED PYGMIES
Seldom had it been the lot of Tom and his companions to take part insuch a novel hunting scene as that in which they were nowparticipating. With the airship moving quickly about, darting hereand there under the guidance of the young inventor, the erraticmovements hither and thither of the buffaloes could be followedexactly. Wherever the mass of the herd went the airship hovered overthem.
"Want any help, Tom?" called Ned, who was firing as fast as his guncould be worked.
"I guess not," answered the steersman of the Black Hawk, who wasdividing his attention between managing the craft and firing hiselectric rifle.
The others, too, were kept busy with their weapons, shooting down onthe infuriated animals. It seemed like a needless slaughter, but itwas not. Had it not been for the white men, the native village,which consisted of only frail huts, would have been completely wipedout by the animals. As it was they were kept "milling" about in acircle in an open space, just as stampeded cattle on the westernranges are kept from getting away, by being forced round and round.
Not a native was in sight, all being hidden away in the jungle ordense grass. The white hunters in their airship had matters tothemselves.
At last the firing proved even too much for the buffaloes which, aswe have said, are among the most dreaded of African beasts. Withbellows of fear, the leading bulls of the herd unable to find theenemy above their heads, darted off into the forest the way they hadcome.
"There they go!" yelled Mr. Durban.
"Yes, and I'm glad to see the last of them," added Mr. Anderson,with a breath of relief.
"Score another victory for the electric rifle," exclaimed Ned.
"Oh, you did as much execution as I did," declared the inventor ofthe weapon.
"Bless my ramrod!" cried Mr. Damon. "I never shot so much in all mylife before."
"Yes, there is enough food to last the natives for a week," observedMr. Durban, as Tom adjusted the deflecting rudder to send theairship down.
"It won't last much longer at the rate they eat," spoke the younginventor with a laugh. "I never saw such fellows for appetites! Theyseem to eat in their sleep."
There were many dead buffaloes, but there was no fear that the meat,which was much prized by the Africans, would be wasted. Already thenatives were coming from their hiding places, knowing that thedanger was over. Once more they sang the praises of the mighty whitehunters, and the magical air craft in which they moved about.
With the elephants previously killed, the buffaloes providedmaterial for a great feast, preparations for which were at oncegotten under way, in spite of the fact that the blacks had hardlystopped eating since the big hunt began. But it was about all theyhad to do.
Some of the buffaloes were very large, and there were a number ofpairs of fine horns. Tom and Ned had some of the blacks cut them offfor trophies, and they were stored in the airship together with theivory.
Becoming rather tired of seeing so much feasting, our friends badethe Africans farewell the next day, and once more resumed theirquest. They navigated through the air for another week, stopping atseveral villages, and scanning the jungles and plains by means ofpowerful telescopes, for a sight of the red pygmies. They also askedfor news of the sacking of the missionary settlement, but, beyondmeager facts, could learn nothing.
"Well, we've got to keep on, that's all," decided Mr. Durban. "Wemay find them most unexpectedly."
"I'm sorry if I have taken you away from your work of gatheringivory," spoke Mr. Anderson. "Perhaps you had better let me go, andI'll see if I can't organize a band of friendly blacks, and searchfor the red dwarfs myself."
"Not much!" exclaimed Tom warmly. "I said we'd help rescue thosemissionaries, and we'll do it, too!"
"Of course," declared the old elephant hunter. "We have quite a lotof ivory and, while we need more to make it pay well, we can lookfor it after we rescue the missionaries as well as before. Perhapsthere will be a lot of elephants in the pygmies' land."
"I was only thinking that we can't go on forever in the airship."said Mr. Anderson. "You'll have to go back to civilization soon,won't you, Tom, to get gasolene?"
"No, we have enough for at least a month," answered the younginventor. "I took aboard an unusually large supply when we started."
"What would happen if we ran out of it in the jungle?" asked Ned.
"Bless my pocketbook! What an unpleasant question!" exclaimed Mr.Damon. "You are almost as cheerful, Ned, as was my friend Mr.Parker, the gloomy scientist, who was always predicting direhappenings."
"Well, I was only wondering," said Ned, who was a little abashed bythe manner in which his inquiry was received.
"Oh, it would be all right," declared Tom. "We would simply become aballoon, and in time the wind would blow us to some whitesettlement. There is plenty of material for making the lifting gas."
This was reassuring, and, somewhat easier in mind, Ned took hisplace in the observation tower which looked down on the jungle overwhich they were passing.
It was a dense forest. At times there could be seen, in the littleclearings, animals darting along. There were numbers of monkeys, anoccasional herd of buffaloes were observed, sometimes a solitarystray elephant was noted, and as for birds, there were thousands ofthem. It was like living over a circus, Ned declared.
They had descended one day just outside a large native village tomake inquiries about elephants and the red pygmies. Of the bigbeasts no signs had been seen in several months, the hunters of thetribe told Mr. Durban. And concerning the red pygmies, the blacksseemed indisposed to talk.
Tom and the others could not understand this, until a witch-doctor,whom the elephant hunter had met some time ago, when he was on aprevious expedition, told him that the tribe had a superstitiousfear of speaking of the little men.
"They may be around us--in the forest or jungle at any minute," thewitch-doctor said. "We never speak of them."
"Say, do you suppose that can be a clew?" asked Tom eagerly. "Theymay be nearer at hand than we think."
"It's possible." admitted the hunter. "Suppose we stay here for afew days, and I'll see if I can't get some of the natives to go offscouting in the woods, and locate them, or at least put us on thetrail of the red dwarfs."
This was considered good advice, and it was decided to adopt it.Accordingly the airship was put in a safe place, and our friendsprepared to spend a week, if necessary, in the native village. Theirpresence with the wonderful craft was a source of wonder, and bymeans of some trinkets judiciously given to the native king, andalso to his head subjects, and to the witch-doctors (who were apower in the land), the good opinion of the tribe was won. Then, bypromising rewards to some of the bolder hunters, Mr. Durban finallysucceeded in getting them to go off scouting in the jungle for aclew to the red pygmies.
"Now we'll have to wait," said Mr. Anderson, "and I hope we get goodnews."
Our friends spent their time observing some of the curious customsof the natives, and in witnessing some odd dances gotten up in theirhonor. They also went hunting, and got plenty of game, for whichtheir hosts were duly grateful. Tom did some night stalking andfound his illuminating bullets a great success.
One hot afternoon Tom and Mr. Damon strolled off a little way intothe jungle, Tom with his electric weapon, in case he saw any game.But no animals save a few big monkeys where to be seen, and theyoung inventor scorned to kill them. It seemed too much like firingat a human being he said, though the natives stated that some of thebaboons and apes were fierce, and would attack one on the slightestprovocation.
"I believe I'll sit down here and rest," said Tom, after a mile'stramp, as he came to a little clearing in the woods.
"Very well, I'll go on," decided Mr. Damon. "Mr. Durban said therewere sometimes rare orchids in these jungles, and I am very fond ofthose odd flowers. I'm going to see if I can get any."
He disappeared behind a fringe of moss-grown trees, and Tom satdown, with his rifle across h
is knees. He was thinking of manythings, but chiefly of what yet lay before them--the discovery ofthe red dwarfs and the possible rescue of the missionaries.
He might have been thus day-dreaming for perhaps a half hour, whenhe suddenly heard great commotion in the jungle, in the direction inwhich Mr. Damon had vanished. It sounded as though some one wasrunning rapidly. Then came the report of the odd man's gun.
"He's seen some game!" exclaimed Tom, jumping up, and preparing tofollow his friend. But he did not have the chance. An instant laterMr. Damon burst through the bushes with every appearance of fright,his gun held above his head with one hand, and his pith helmetswaying to and fro in the other.
"They're coming!" he cried to Tom.
"Who, the red pygmies?"
"No, but a couple of rhinoceroses are after me. I wounded one, andhe and his mate are right behind. Don't let them catch me, Tom!"
Mr. Damon was very much alarmed, and there was good occasion for it,as Tom saw a moment later, for two fierce rhinoceroses burst out ofthe jungle almost on the heels of the fleeing man.
Thought was not quicker than Tom Swift. He raised his deadly rifle,and pressed the button. A charge of wireless electricity shot towardthe foremost animal, and it was dropped in its tracks. The othercame on woofing and snorting with rage. It was the one Mr. Damon hadslightly wounded.
"Come on!" yelled the young inventor, for his friend was in front ofthe beast, and in range with the rifle. "Jump to one side, Mr.Damon."
Mr. Damon tried, but his foot slipped, and there was no need forjumping. He fell and rolled over. The rhinoceros swerved toward him,with the probable intention of goring the prostrate man with theformidable horn, but it had no chance. Once more the young inventorfired, this time with a heavier charge, and the animal instantlytoppled over dead.
"Are you hurt?" asked Tom anxiously, as he ran to his friend. Mr.Damon got up slowly. He felt all over himself, and then answered:
"No, Tom, I guess I'm not hurt, except in my dignity. Never againwill I fire at a sleeping rhinoceros unless you are with me. I had anarrow escape," and he shook Tom's hand heartily.
"Did you see any orchids?" asked the lad with a smile.
"No, those beasts didn't give me a chance! Bless my tape measure!but they're big fellows!"
Indeed they were fine specimens, and there was the usual rejoicingamong the natives when they brought in the great bodies, pullingthem to the village with ropes made of vines.
After this Mr. Damon was careful not to go into the jungle alone,nor, in fact, did any of our friends so venture. Mr. Durban said itwas not safe.
They remained a full week in the native village, and received nonews. In fact, all but one of the hunters came back to report thatthere was no sign of the red pygmies in that neighborhood.
"Well, I guess we might as well move on, and see what we can doourselves," said Mr. Durban.
"Let's wait until the last hunter comes back," suggested Tom. "Hemay bring word."
"Some of his friends think he'll never come back," remarked Mr.Anderson.
"Why not?" asked Ned.
"They think he has been killed by some wild beast."
But this fear was ungrounded. It was on the second day after thekilling of the rhinoceroses that, as Tom was tinkering away in theengine-room of the airship, and thinking that perhaps they hadbetter get under way, that a loud shouting was heard among thenatives.
"I wonder what's up now?" mused the young inventor as he wentoutside. He saw Mr. Durban and Mr. Anderson running toward the ship.Behind them was a throng of blacks, led by a weary man whom Tomrecognized as the missing hunter. The lad's heart beat high withhope. Did the African bring news?
On came Mr. Durban, waving his hands to Tom.
"We've located 'em!" he shouted.
"Not the red pygmies?" asked Tom eagerly.
"Yes; this hunter has news of them. He has been to the border oftheir country, and narrowly escaped capture. Then he was attacked bya lion, and slightly wounded. But, Tom, now we can get on thetrail!"
"Good!" cried the young inventor. "That's fine news!" and herejoiced that once more there would be activity, for he was tired ofremaining in the African camp, and then, too, he wanted to proceedto the rescue. Already it might be too late to save the unfortunatemissionaries.