“Maybe we won’t,” spoke Tom, who was always a little diffident about a new piece of machinery.
“Well, if it doesn’t do it the first time, it will the second, or the fifty-second,” declared Ned Newton. “Tom Swift doesn’t give up until he succeeds.”
“Stop it! You’ll make me blush!” cried the Black Hawk’s owner as he tried the different gages and levers to see that they were all right.
After what seemed like a long time he gave the word for those who were to make the trial trip to take their places. They did so, and then, with Mr. Jackson, Tom went to the engine room. There was a little delay, due to the fact that some adjustment was necessary on the main motor. But at last it was fixed.
“Are you all ready?” called Tom.
“All ready,” answered Mr. Damon. The old elephant hunter sat in a chair, nervously gripping the arms, and with a grim look on his tanned face. Mr. Swift was cool, as Ned, for they had made many trips in the air. Outside were Eradicate Sampson and Mrs. Baggert.
“Here we go!” suddenly cried Tom, and he yanked over the lever that started the main motor and propellers. The Black Hawk trembled throughout her entire length. She shivered and shook. Faster and faster whirled the great wooden screws. The motor hummed and throbbed.
Slowly the Black Hawk moved across the ground. Then she gathered speed. Now she was fairly rushing over the level space. Tom Swift tilted the elevation rudder, and with a suddenness that was startling, at least to the old elephant hunter, the new airship shot upward on a steep slant.
“The Black Hawk flies!” yelled Ned Newton. “Now for elephant land and the big tusks!”
“Yes, and perhaps for the red pygmies, too,” added Tom in a low voice. Then he gave his whole attention to the management of his new machine, which was rapidly mounting upward, with a speed rivalling that of his former big craft.
CHAPTER VIII
OFF FOR AFRICA
Higher and higher went the Black Hawk, far above the earth, until the old elephant hunter, looking down, said in a voice which he tried to make calm and collected, but which trembled in spite of himself:
“Of course I’m not an expert at this game, Tom Swift, but it looks to me as if we’d never get down. Don’t you think we’re high enough?”
“For the time being, yes,” answered the young inventor. “I didn’t think she’d climb so far without the use of the gas. She’s doing well.”
“Bless my topknot, yes!” exclaimed Mr. Damon. “She beats the Red Cloud, Tom. Try her on a straight-away course.”
Which the youth did, pointing the nose of the craft along parallel to the surface of the earth, and nearly a mile above it. Then, increasing the speed of the motor, and with the big propellers humming, they made fast time.
The old elephant hunter grew more calm as he saw that the airship did not show any inclination to fall, and he noted that Tom and the others not only knew how to manage it, but took their flight as much a matter of course as if they were in an automobile skimming along on the surface of the ground.
Tom put his craft through a number of evolutions, and when he found that she was in perfect control as an aeroplane, he started the gas machine, filled the big black bag overhead, and, when it was sufficiently buoyant, he shut off the motor, and the Black Hawk floated along like a balloon.
“That’s what we’ll do if our power happens to give out when we get over an African jungle, with a whole lot of wild elephants down below, and a forest full of the red pygmies waiting for us,” explained Tom to Mr. Durban.
“And I guess you’ll need to do it, too,” answered the hunter. “I don’t know which I fear worse, the bad elephants wild with rage, as they get some times, or the little red men who are as strong as gorillas, and as savage as wolves. It would be all up with us if we got into their hands. But I think this airship will be just what we need in Africa. I’d have been able to get out of many a tight place if I had had one on my last trip.”
While the Black Hawk hung thus, up the air, not moving, save as the wind blew her, Tom with his father and Mr. Jackson made an inspection of the machinery to find out whether it had been strained any. They found that it had worked perfectly, and soon the craft was in motion again, her nose this time being pointed toward the earth. Tom let out some of the gas, and soon the airship was on the ground in front of the shed she had so recently left.
“She’s all right,” decided the young inventor after a careful inspection. “I’ll give her a couple more trials, put on the finishing touches and then we’ll be ready for our trip to Africa. Have you got everything arranged to go, Ned?”
“Sure. I have a leave of absence from the bank, thanks to your father and Mr. Damon, most of my clothes are packed, I’ve bought a gun and I’ve got a lot of quinine in case I get a fever.”
“Good!” cried the elephant hunter. “You’ll do all right, I reckon. I’m glad I met you young fellows. Well, I’ve lived through my first trip in the air, which is more than I expected when I started.”
They discussed their plans at some length, for, now that the airship had proved all that they had hoped for, it would not be long ere they were under way. In the days that followed Tom put the finishing touches on the craft, arranged to have it packed up for shipment, and spent some time practicing with his electric rifle. He got to be an expert shot, and Mr. Durban, who was a wonder with the ordinary rifle, praised the young inventor highly.
“There won’t many of the big tuskers get away from you, Tom Swift,” he said. “And that reminds me, I got a letter the other day, from the firm I collect ivory for, stating that the price had risen because of a scarcity, and urging me to hurry back to Africa and get all I could. It seems that war has broken out among some of the central African tribes, and they are journeying about in the jungle, on the war path here and there, and have driven the elephants into the very deepest wilds, where the ordinary hunters can’t get at them.”
“Maybe we won’t have any luck, either,” suggested Ned.
“Oh, yes, we will,” declared the hunter. “With our airship, the worst forest of the dark continent won’t have any terrors for us, for we can float above it. And the fights of the natives won’t have any effect. In a way, this will be a good thing, for with the price of ivory soaring, we can make more money than otherwise. There’s a chance for us all to get a lot of money.”
“Bless my piano keys!” exclaimed Mr. Damon, “if I can get just one elephant, and pull out his big ivory teeth, I’ll be satisfied. I want a nice pair of tusks to set up on either side of my fireplace for ornaments.”
“A mighty queer place for such-like ornaments,” said Mr. Durban in a low voice. Then he added: “Well, the sooner we get started the better I’ll like it, for I want to get that pair of big tusks for a special customer of mine.”
“I’ll give the Black Hawk one more trial flight, and then take her apart and ship her,” decided Tom, and the final flight, a most successful one, took place the following day.
Then came another busy season when the airship was taken apart for shipment to the coast of Africa by steamer. It was put into big boxes and crates, and Eradicate and his mule took them to the station in Shopton.
“Don’t you want to come to Africa with us, Rad?” asked Tom, when the last of the cases had been sent off. “You’ll find a lot of your friends there.”
“No, indeedy, I doan’t want t’ go,” answered the colored man, “though I would like to see dat country.”
“Then why don’t you come?”
“Hu! Yo’ think, Massa Tom, dat I go anywhere dat I might meet dem little red men what Massa Durban talk about? No, sah, dey might hurt mah mule Boomerang.”
“Oh, I wasn’t going to take the mule along,” said Tom, wondering how the creature might behave in the airship.
“Not take Boomerang? Den I SUTTINLY ain’t goin,” and Eradicate walked off, highly offended, to give some oats to his faithful if somewhat eccentric steed.
After the airship had been se
nt off there yet remained much for Tom Swift to do. He had to send along a number of special tools and appliances with which to put the ship together again, and also some with which to repair the craft in case of accident. So that this time was pretty well occupied. But at length everything was in readiness, and with his electric rifle knocked down for transportation, and with his baggage, and that of the others, all packed, they set off one morning to take the train for New York, where they would get a steamer for Africa.
Numerous good-bys had been said, and Tom had made a farewell call on Mary Nestor, promising to bring her some trophy from elephant land, though he did not quite know what it would be.
Mr. Damon, as the train started, blessed everything he could think of. Mr. Swift waved his hand and wished his son and the others good luck, feeling a little lonesome that he could not make one of the party. Ned was eager with excitement, and anticipation of what lay before him. Tom Swift was thinking of what he could accomplish with his electric rifle, and of the wonderful sights he would see, and, as for the old elephant hunter, he was very glad to be on the move again, after so many weeks of idleness, for he was a very active man.
Their journey to New York was uneventful, and they found that the parts of the airship had safely arrived, and had been taken aboard the steamer. The little party went aboard themselves, after a day spent in sight-seeing, and that afternoon the Soudalar, which was the vessel’s name, steamed away from the dock at high tide.
“Off for Africa!” exclaimed Tom to Ned, as they stood at the rail, watching the usual crowd wave farewells. “Off for Africa, Ned.”
As Tom spoke, a gentleman who had been standing near him and his chum, vigorously waving his hand to some one on the pier, turned quickly. He looked sharply at the young inventor for a moment, and then exclaimed:
“Well, if it isn’t Tom Swift! Did I hear you say you were going to Africa?”
Tom looked at the gentleman with rather a puzzled air for a moment. The face was vaguely familiar, but Tom could not recall where he had seen it. Then it came to him in a flash.
“Mr. Floyd Anderson!” exclaimed our hero. “Mr. Anderson of—”
“Earthquake Island!” exclaimed the gentleman quickly, as he extended his hand. “I guess you remember that place, Tom Swift.”
“Indeed I do. And to think of meeting you again, and on this African steamer,” and Tom’s mind went back to the perilous days when his wireless message had saved the castaways of Earthquake Island, among whom were Mr. Anderson and his wife.
“Did I hear you say you were going to Africa?” asked Mr. Anderson, when he had been introduced to Ned, and the others in Tom’s party.
“That’s where we’re bound for,” answered the lad. “We are going to elephant land. But where are you going, Mr. Anderson?”
“Also to Africa, but not on a trip for pleasure or profit like yourselves. I have been commissioned by a missionary society to rescue two of its workers from the heart of the dark continent.”
“Rescue two missionaries?” exclaimed Tom, wonderingly.
“Yes, a gentleman and his wife, who, it is reported, have fallen into the hands of a race known as the red pygmies, who hold them captives!”
CHAPTER IX
ATTACKED BY A WHALE
Surprise at Mr. Anderson’s announcement held Tom silent for a moment. That the gentleman whom he had been the means of rescuing, among others, from Earthquake Island, should be met with so unexpectedly, was quite a coincidence, but when it developed that he was bound to the same part of the African continent as were Tom and his friends, and when he said he hoped to rescue some missionaries from the very red pygmies so feared by the old elephant hunter—this was enough to startle any one.
“I see that my announcement has astonished you,” said Mr. Anderson, as he noted the look of surprise on the face of the young inventor.
“It certainly has! Why, that’s where we are bound for, in my new airship. Come down into our cabin, Mr. Anderson, and tell us all about it. Is your wife with you?”
“No, it is too dangerous a journey on which to take her. I have little hope of succeeding, for it is now some time since the unfortunate missionaries were captured, but I am going to do my best, and organize a relief expedition when I get to Africa.”
Tom said nothing at that moment, but he made up his mind that if it was at all possible he would lend his aid, that of his airship, and also get his friends to assist Mr. Anderson. They went below to a special cabin that had been reserved for Tom’s party, and there, as the ship slowly passed down New York Bay, Mr. Anderson told his story.
“I mentioned to you, when we were on Earthquake Island,” he said to Tom, “that I had been in Africa, and had done some hunting. That is not my calling, as it is that of your friend, Mr. Durban, but I know the country pretty well. However, I have not been there in some time.”
“My wife and I are connected with a church in New York that, several years ago, raised a fund and sent two missionaries, Mr. and Mrs. Jacob Illingway, to the heart of Africa. They built up a little mission there, and for a time all went well, and they did good work among the natives.”
“They are established in a tribe of friendly black men, of simple nature, and, while the natives did not become Christianized to any remarkable extent, yet they were kind to the missionaries. Mr. and Mrs. Illingway used frequently to write to members of our church, telling of their work. They also mentioned the fact that adjoining the country of the friendly blacks there was a tribe of fierce little red men,—red because of hair of that color all over their bodies.”
“That’s right,” agreed Mr. Durban, shaking his head solemnly. “They’re red imps, too!”
“Mr. Illingway often mentioned in his letters,” went on Mr. Anderson, “that there were frequent fights between the pygmies and the race of blacks, but the latter had no great fear of their small enemies. However, it seems that they did not take proper precautions, for not long ago there was a great battle, the blacks were attacked by a large force of the red pygmies, who overwhelmed them by numbers, and finally routed them, taking possession of their country.”
“What became of the missionaries?” asked Ned Newton.
“I’ll tell you,” said Mr. Anderson. “For a long time we heard nothing, beyond the mere news of the fight, which we read of in the papers. The church people were very anxious about the fate of Mr. and Mrs. Illingway, and were talking of sending a special messenger to inquire about them, when a cablegram came from the headquarters of the society in London.”
“It seems that one of the black natives, named Tomba, who was a sort of house servant to Mr. and Mrs. Illingway, escaped the general massacre, in which all his friends were killed. He made his way through the jungle to a white settlement, and told his story, relating how the two missionaries had been carried away captive by the pygmies.”
“A terrible fate,” commented Mr. Durban.
“Yes, they might better be dead, from all the accounts we can hear,” went on Mr. Anderson.
“Bless my Sunday hat! Don’t say that!” exclaimed Mr. Damon. “Maybe we can save them, Mr. Anderson.”
“That is what I am going to try to do, though it may be too late. As soon as definite news was received, our church held a meeting, raised a fund, and decided to send me off to find Mr. and Mrs. Illingway, if alive, or give them decent burial, if I could locate their bones. The reason they selected me was because I had been in Africa, and knew the country.”
“I made hurried arrangements, packed up, said good-by to my wife, and here I am. But to think of meeting you, Tom Swift! And to hear that you are also going to Africa. I wish I could command an airship for the rescue. It might be more easily accomplished!”
“That’s just what I was going to propose!” exclaimed Tom. “We are going to the land of the red pygmies, and while I have promised to help Mr. Durban in getting ivory, and while I want to try my electric rifle on big game, still we can do both, I think. You can depend on us, Mr. Anderson, an
d if the Black Hawk can be of any service to you in the rescue, count us in!”
“Gosh!” cried the former castaway of Earthquake Island. “This is the best piece of luck I could have! Now tell me all about your plans.” which Tom and the others did, listening in turn, to further details about the missionaries.
Just how they would go to work to effect the rescue, or how they could locate the particular tribe of little red men who had Mr. and Mrs. Illingway, they did not know.
“We may be able to get hold of this Tomba,” said Mr. Durban. “If not I guess between Mr. Anderson and myself we can get on the trail, somehow. I’m anxious to get to the coast, see the airship put together again, and start for the interior.”
“So am I,” declared Tom, as he got out his electric rifle, and began to put it together, for he wanted to show Mr. Anderson how it worked.
They had a pleasant and uneventful voyage for two weeks. The weather was good, and, to tell the truth, it was rather monotonous for Tom and the others, who were eager to get into activity again. Then came a storm, which, while it was not dangerous, yet gave them plenty to think and talk about for three days. Then came more calm weather, when the Soudalar plowed along over gently heaving billows.
They were about a week from their port of destination, which was Majumba, on the African coast, when, one afternoon, as Tom and the others were in their cabin, they heard a series of shouts on deck, and the sound of many feet running to and fro.
“Something has happened!” exclaimed the young inventor.
Tom raced for the companionway, and was soon on deck, followed by Mr. Durban and the others. They saw a crowd of sailors and passengers leaning over the port rail.
“What’s the matter?” asked Tom, of the second mate, who was just passing.
“Fight between a killer and a whale,” was the reply. “The captain has ordered the ship to lay-to so it can be watched.”
Tom made his way to the rail. About a quarter of a mile away there could be observed a great commotion in the ocean. Great bodies seemed to be threshing about, beating the water to foam, and, with the foam could be seen bright blood mingled. Occasionally two jets of water, as from some small fountain, would shoot upward.
The Tom Swift Megapack Page 118