Tom Swift in Captivity, Or, A Daring Escape By Airship

  CHAPTER X

  A WILD HORSE STAMPEDE

  "Who is that man?" demanded Tom pointing to the one Ned hadindicated. Tom's chum had had a glimpse of a shining revolver in thehip pocket of one of the mule drivers, and knowing that the simplenatives were not in the habit of carrying such weapons, the lad hadcommunicated his suspicions to Tom.

  "What man, senor?" asked the head mule driver.

  "That one!" and the young inventor again pointed toward him. And,now that Tom looked a second time he saw that the man was not asblack as the other drivers--not an honest, dark-skinned black butmore of a sickly yellow, like a treacherous half-breed. "Who is he?"asked Tom, for the man in question was just then tightening a girthand could not hear him.

  "I know not, senor. He come to me when I am hiring the others, andhe say he is a good driver. And so he is, I test him before I engagehim," went in San Pedro in Spanish. "He is one good driver."

  "Why does he carry a revolver?"

  "A revolver, senor? Santa Maria, I know not! I--"

  "I'll find out," declared Tom determinedly. "Here," he called to theoffending one, who straightened up quickly. "Come here!"

  The man came, with all the cringing servility of a born native, andbowed low.

  "Why have you a weapon?" asked the young inventor. "I gave ordersthat none of the drivers were to carry them."

  "A revolver, senor? I have none! I--"

  "Rad, reach in his pocket!" cried Tom, and the colored man did sowith a promptness that the other could not frustrate. Eradicate heldaloft a large calibre, automatic weapon.

  "What's that for?" asked Tom, virtuously angry.

  "I--er--I--" and then, with a hopeless shrug of his shoulders theman turned away.

  "Give him his gun, and get another driver, San Pedro," directed ourhero, and with another shrug of his shoulders the man accepted therevolver, and walked slowly off. Another driver was not hard toengage, as several had been hanging about, hoping for employment atthe last minute, and one was quickly chosen.

  "It's lucky you saw that gun, Ned," remarked Tom, when they wereactually under way again.

  "Yes, I saw the sun shining on it as his coat flapped up. What washis game, do you suppose?"

  "Oh, he might be what they call a 'bad half-breed' down here. Iguess maybe he thought he could lord it over the other drivers whenwe got out in the jungle, and maybe take some of their wages awayfrom them, or have things easier for himself."

  "Bless my wishbone!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "You don't think he meantto use it on us, Tom?"

  "Why no? What makes you ask that?"

  "Oh, I'm just nervous, I guess," replied the odd man.

  But if Mr. Damon could have seen that same half-breed a littlelater, as he slipped into a Rosario resort, with the yellow stainwashed from his face, the nervousness of the eccentric gentlemanwould have increased. For the man who had been detected with therevolver muttered to himself:

  "Caught! Well, I'll fool 'em next time all right! I thought I couldget away with the pack train, and then it would have been easy toturn the natives any way I wished, after I had found what I'mlooking for. But I had to go and carry that gun! I never thoughtthey'd spot it. Well, it's all up now, and if Waydell heard of ithe'd want to fire me. But I'll make good yet. I'll have to adoptsome other disguise, and see if I can't tag along behind."

  All unconscious of the plotter they had left back of them, Tom andhis companions pushed on, rapidly leaving such signs of civilizationas were represented by small native towns and villages, and comingnearer to the jungles and forests that lay between them and theplace where Tom was destined to be made a captive.

  They were far enough away from the tropics to escape the intolerableheat, and yet it was quite warm. In fact the weather was not at allunpleasant, and, once they were started, all enjoyed the novelty ofthe trip.

  Tom planned to keep along the eastern shore of the Parana river,until they reached the junction where the Salado joins it. Then hedecided that they would do better to cross the Parana and strikeinto the big triangle made by that stream and its principaltributary, heading north toward Bolivia.

  "For it is in that little-explored part of South America that Ithink the giants will be found." said Tom, as he talked it over withNed and Mr. Damon in the privacy of their tent, which had been setup.

  "But why should there be giants there any more than anywhere else?"asked Ned.

  "No particular reason," answered his chum. "But, according to thelast word Mr. Preston had from his agent, that was where he washeading for, and that's where Zacatas, his native helper, said helost track of his master. I have a theory that the giants, if wefind any, will turn out to be a branch of a Patagonian tribe."

  "Patagonians!" exclaimed Ned.

  "Yes. You know the natives of the Southern part of Argentina grow toa considerable size. Now Patagonia is a comparatively bleak and coldcountry. What would prevent some of that big tribe centuries ago,from having migrated to a warmer country, where life was morefavorable? After several generations they may have grown to begiants."

  "Bravo!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "It's a good theory, at any rate, Tom.Though whether you can ever prove it is a question."

  "Yes, and a big one," agreed the young inventor with a laugh.

  For some days they traveled along over a comparatively flat country,bordering the river. At times they would pass through small nativevillages, where they would be able to get fresh meat, poultry andother things that varied their bill of fare. Again there would belong, lonely stretches of forest or jungle, through which it wasdifficult to make their way. And, occasionally they would come tofair-sized towns where their stay was made pleasant.

  "I doan't see any ob dem oranges an' bananas droppin' inter mahmouf, Massa Tom," complained Eradicate one day, after they had beenon the march for over a week.

  "Have patience, Rad," advised Tom. "We'll come to them when we get alittle farther into the interior. First we'll come to the monkeys,and the cocoanut trees."

  "Hones' Massa Tom?"

  "Surely."

  And though it was pretty far south for the nimble simians, the nextday they did come upon a drove of them skipping about in the tallpalm trees.

  "There they are, Rad! There they are!" cried Ned, as the chatteringof the monkeys filled the forest.

  "By golly! So dey be! Heah's where I get some cocoanuts!"

  Before anyone could stop him, Eradicate caught up a dead branch, andthrew it at a monkey. The chattering increased, and almost instantlya shower of cocoanuts came crashing down, narrowly missing some ofour friends.

  "Hold on, Rad! Hold on!" cried Tom. "Some of us will be hurt!"

  Crack! came a cocoanut down on the skull of the colored man.

  "Bless my court plaster! Someone's hurt now!" cried Mr. Damon.

  "Hurt? Bless yo' heart, Massa Damon, it takes mo' dan dat t' hurtdish yeah chile!" cried Eradicate with a grin. "Ah got a hard head,Ah has, mighty hard head, an' de cocoanut ain't growed dat kin bustit. Thanks, Mistah Monkey, thanks!" and with a laugh Eradicatejumped off his mule, and began gathering up the nuts, while themonkeys fled into the forest.

  "Very much good to drink milk," said San Pedro, as he picked up ahalf-ripe nut, and showed how to chop off the top with a big knifeand drain the slightly acid juice inside. "Very much good forthirst."

  "Let's try it," proposed Tom, and they all drank their fill, forthere were many cocoanuts, though it was rather an isolated grove ofthem.

  The monkeys became more numerous as they proceeded farther northtoward the equator, for it must be remembered that they had landedsouth of it, and at times the little animals became a positivenuisance.

  Several days passed, and they crossed the Parana river and struckinto the almost unpenetrated tract of land where Tom hoped to findthe giants. As yet none of their escort dreamed of the object of theexpedition, and though Tom had caused scouts to be sent back overtheir trail to learn if they were being followed there was no traceof any one.

  One d
ay, after a night camp on the edge of a rather high table land,they started across a fertile plain that was covered with a richgrowth of grass.

  "Good grazing ground here," commented Ned.

  "Yes," put in San Pedro. "Plenty much horse here pretty soon."

  "Do the natives graze their herds of horses here?" asked Tom.

  "No natives--wild horses," explained Pedro. "Plenty much, sometimestoo many they come. You see, maybe."

  It was nearly noon, and Tom was considering stopping for dinner ifthey could come to a good watering place, when Ned, who had riddenslightly in advance, came galloping back as fast as his steed wouldcarry him.

  "Look out! Look out!" he cried. "There's a stampede of 'em, andthey're headed right this way!"

  "Stampede of what? Who's headed this way?" cried Tom. "A lot ofmonkeys?"

  "No, wild horses! Thousands of 'em! Hear 'em coming?"

  In the silence that followed Ned's warning there could be heard adull, roaring, thundering sound, and the earth seemed to tremble.

  "The young senor speaks truth! Wild horses are coming!" cried SanPedro. "Get ready, senors! Have your weapons at hand, and perchancewe can turn the stampede aside."

  "The rifles! The electric rifles, Ned--Mr. Damon! We've got to stopthem, or they'll trample us to death!" cried Tom.

  As he spoke the thundering became louder, and then, looking acrossthe grassy plain, all saw a large troop of wild horses, with flyingmanes and tails, headed directly toward them!