“I’m going to try!” exclaimed Tom grimly.
“Here he comes,” spoke Mr. Damon quickly. “I wonder what he wants?”
Hank Delby had started toward the big hut that sheltered our friends, while the gathered crowd of curious giants looked on and wondered what the arrival of two white parties so close together could mean.
“Well, what do you want?” asked Tom, when, his rival had come within speaking distance.
“There’s no use beating about the bush with you, Tom Swift,” was the frank answer. “I may as well out with it. I came after a giant, and I’m going to get one for Mr. Waydell.”
“Then you took advantage of our trail, and followed us?” asked the young inventor.
“Oh, you can put it that way if you like,” replied Delby calmly. “I have followed you, and a hard time I’ve had of it. I tried to do it quietly, but you got on to my tricks. However it doesn’t matter. I’m here now, and I’m going to beat you out if I can.”
“I remember now!” exclaimed Ned whispering in Tom’s ear, “he was disguised as one of the mule drivers and you fired him because he had a revolver. Don’t you remember, Tom?”
“That’s right!” exclaimed the young inventor as he noted the face and form of Delby more closely. Then our hero added: “You played a low-down trick, Mr. Delby, and it won’t do you any good. I caught you trying to sneak along in my company and I’ll catch you again. I’m here first, and I’ve got the best right to try and get a giant for Mr. Preston, and if you had any idea of fair play—”
“All’s fair in this business, Tom Swift,” was the quick answer. “I’m going to do my best to beat you, and I expect you to do your best to beat me. I can’t speak any fairer than that. It’s war between us, from now on, and you might as well know it. One thing I will promise you, though, if there’s any danger of you or your party getting hurt by these big men I’ll fight on your side. But I guess they are too gentle to fight.”
“We can look after ourselves,” declared Tom. “And since it’s to be war between us look out for yourself.”
“Don’t worry!” exclaimed Tom’s rival with a laugh. “I’ve gone through a lot to get here, and I’m not going to give up without a struggle. I guess—”
But he did not finish his sentence for at that moment Oom, the big hunting giant, came up behind him, tapped him on the shoulder, and pointed to the king’s hut, motioning to indicate that Mr. Delby was wanted there.
“Very good,” said the circus agent in what he tried to make sound like a jolly voice, “I’m to call on his majesty; am I? Here’s where I beat you to it, Tom Swift.”
Tom did not answer, but there was a worried look on his face, as he turned to join his friends in the big hut. And, as he looked from a window, and saw Delby being led into the presence of Kosk, Tom could hear the strains of the big phonograph he had presented to the king.
“I guess his royal highness will remain friends with us,” said Ned with a smile, as he heard the music. “He can see what a lot of presents and other things we have, and as for that Delby, he doesn’t seem to have much of anything.”
“Oh, I haven’t shown half the things I have as yet,” spoke Tom. “But I don’t like this, just the same. Those giants may turn from us, and favor him on the slightest pretence. I guess we’ve got our work cut out for us.”
“Then let’s plan some way to beat him,” suggested Mr. Damon. “Look over your goods, Tom, and make the king a present that will bind his friendship to us.”
“I believe I will,” decided the young inventor and then he and Ned began overhauling the boxes and bales, while a crowd of curious giants stood without their hut, and another throng surrounded the palace of the giant king.
“There goes Delby out to get something from his baggage,” announced Ned, looking from the window. Tom saw his rival taking something from one of the packs slung across the back of a mule. Soon the circus agent hurried back into the king’s hut, and a moment later there was heard the strains of a banjo being picked by an unpracticed hand. It was succeeded by a rattling tune played in good style.
“Bless my fiddlestick!” exclaimed Mr. Damon, “Does your phonograph have a banjo record, Tom?”
“No.” was the somewhat hesitating answer of the young inventor. “Delby who can play a banjo himself must have given Kosk one for a present, and, like a child, the king is amused by the latest novelty. So far he has scored one on us,” he added, as once more they heard the unmelodious strains of the banjo slowly picked. “The king is evidently learning to play the instrument, and he’d rather have that than a phonograph, which only winds up.”
“But haven’t you some other things you can give the king to off-set the banjo?” asked Mr. Damon.
“Plenty of them,” replied Tom. “But if I give him—say a toy steam engine, for I have one among our things—what is to prevent Delby giving him some other novelty that will take his attention? In that way we’ll sea-saw back and forth, and I guess Delby has had more experience in this business than I have. It’s going to be a question which of us gets a giant.”
“Bless my reserved seat ticket!” exclaimed Mr. Damon. “I never heard of such a thing! But, Tom, I’m sure we’ll win out.”
“Get something startling to give the king,” advised Ned, and Tom began opening one of the boxes that had been transported with such labor from the coast.
“Delby had much better luck with his mule drivers than we did Tom,” remarked Ned as he saw the two natives standing by the pack animals of the rival circus man. “They evidently didn’t get scared off by the giants.”
“No, but probably he didn’t tell them where they were headed for. Though, as a matter of fact, I don’t believe any one has anything to fear from these big men. All they ask is to be let alone. They’re not at all warlike, and I don’t believe they’d attack the other natives. But probably their size makes them feared, and when our drivers heard the word ‘giant’ they simply wilted.”
“Guess you’re right. But come on, Tom. If we’re going to make the king a present that will open his eyes, and get him on our side instead of Delby’s, we’d better be getting at it.”
“I will. This is what I’m going to give him,” and Tom brought out from a box a small toy circus, with many performing animals and acrobats, the whole being worked by a small steam engine that burned alcohol for fuel. A little water put in the boiler of the toy engine, a lighting of the alcohol wick and there would be a toy that even a youngster of the United States might be proud to own.
“Mah land a massy!” exclaimed Eradicate as Tom got the apparatus ready to work. “Dat shore will please him!”
“It ought to,” replied the young inventor. “Come on, now I’m ready.”
Delby had not yet come from the king’s hut, and as Tom and his friends, bearing the new toy, were about to leave the structure that had been set aside for their use, they saw a crowd of the giant men approaching. Each of the big men carried a club and a spear.
“Bless my eye glasses!” gasped Mr. Damon. “Something is wrong. What can it be?”
He had his answer a moment later. With a firm but gentle motion the chief giant shoved our four friends back into the hut, and then pulled the grass mat over the opening. Then, as Tom and the others could see by looking from a crack, he and several others took their position in front, while other giants went to the various windows, stationing themselves outside like sentries around a guard house.
“Bless my—” began Mr. Damon, but words failed him.
“We’re prisoners!” gasped Ned.
“It looks like it,” admitted Tom grimly. “Evidently Delby has carried out his threat and set the king against us. We are to be held captives here, and he can do as he pleases. Oh, why didn’t I think sooner.”
CHAPTER XVIII
TOM’S MYSTERIOUS BOX
The young inventor walked slowly back to the middle of the hut—a prison now it was—and sat down on a bench. The others followed his example, and the e
laborate toy, with which they had hoped to win the king’s favor, was laid aside. For a moment there was silence in the structure—a silence broken only by the pacing up and down of the giant guards outside. Then Eradicate spoke.
“Massa Tom,” began the aged negro, “can’t we git away from heah?”
“It doesn’t seem so, Rad.”
“Can’t we shoot some of dem giants wif de ’lectric guns, an’ carry a couple ob ’em off after we stun ’em like?”
“No, Rad; I’m afraid violent measures won’t do, though now that you speak of the guns I think that we had better get them ready.”
“You’re not going to shoot any of them, are you, Tom?” asked Mr. Damon quickly.
“No, but if they continue to turn against us as easily as they have, there is no telling what may happen. If they attack us we will have to defend ourselves. But I think they are too gentle for that, unless they are unduly aroused by what misstatements Hank Delby may make against us.”
“Misstatements?” inquired Ned.
“Yes. I don’t doubt but what he told the king a lot of stuff that isn’t true, to cause his majesty to make us captives here. Probably he said we came to destroy the giant city with magic, or something like that, and he represented himself as a simple traveler. He’s used to that sort of business, for he has often tried to get ahead of Mr. Preston in securing freaks or valuable animals for the circus. He wants to make it look bad for us, and good for himself. So far he has succeeded. But I’ve got a plan.”
“What is it?” asked Mr. Damon.
“I’ll tell you when I’ve got it more worked out. The thing to do now is to get in shape to stand off the giants if they should attack us. This hut is pretty strong, and we can risk a siege in here. Let’s arrange the boxes and bales into a sort of breastwork, and then we’ll take the electric rifles inside.”
This was soon done, and, though there was considerable noise attending the moving about of the boxes and bales, the giant guards did not seem at all alarmed. They did not even take the trouble to stop the work, though they looked in the windows. In a short time there was a sort of hollow square formed in the middle of the big main room, and inside of this our friends could give battle.
“And now for my plan of teaching these giants a lesson,” said Tom, when this work was finished. “Ned, help me open this box,” and he indicated one with his initials on in red letters.
“That’s the same one you saved from the fire in the ship,” commented Ned.
“Yes, and I can’t put it to just exactly the use I intended, as the situation has changed—for the worse I may say. But this box will answer a good purpose,” and Tom and Ned proceeded to open the mysterious case which the young inventor had transported with such care.
“Bless my cannon cracker!” exclaimed Mr. Damon who watched them. “You’re as careful of that as if it contained dynamite.”
“It does contain something like that,” answered Tom. “It has some blasting powder in, and I was going to use it to show the giants how little their strength would prevail against the power which the white man could secure from some harmless looking powder. There are also a lot of fireworks in the box, and I intend to use them to scare these big men. That’s why I was so afraid when I heard that there was a blaze near my box. I was worried for fear the ship would be blown up. But I can’t use the blasting powder—at least not now. But we’ll give these giants an idea of what Fourth of July looks like. Come on, Ned, we’ll take a look and see from which window it will be safest to set off the rockets and other things, as I don’t want to set fire to any of the grass huts.”
Eradicate and Mr. Damon looked on wonderingly while Tom and his chum got out the packages of fireworks which had been kept safe and dry. As for the giant guards, if they saw through the windows what was going on, they made no effort to stop Tom.
Tom had brought along a good collection of sky rockets, aerial bombs, Roman candles and similar things, together with the blasting powder. The latter was put in a safe place in a side room, and then, with some boards, the young inventor and his chum proceeded to make a sort of firing stand. One big window opened out toward a vacant stretch of woods into which it would not be dangerous to aim the fireworks.
Building the stand took some time, and they knocked off to make a meal from the food that had been brought, and which they had been about to eat when the circus man had appeared. The food was good, and it made them feel better.
“I hope they won’t forget us tomorrow,” observed Tom, for there was enough of the first meal left for supper. “But if they do we have some food of our own.”
“Oh, I don’t think they mean to starve us,” remarked Ned. “I think they are just acting on suggestions from that circus man.”
“Perhaps,” agreed Tom. “Well, they may sing another tune when we get through with them.”
As night approached the giant guards about the hut were changed, and again the women came, bearing platters of food. There was plenty of it, showing that the king, however fickle his friendship might be, did not intend to starve his captives. Tom and his friends had not seen Delby come out of the royal palace, and they concluded that he was still with his giant majesty.
“Is it dark enough now, Tom?” asked Ned of his chum, as they sat about the rude wooden platform which they had made to hold the fireworks. “Shall we set them off?”
“Pretty soon now. Wait until it gets a little darker, and the effect will be better.” The room was dimly lighted by a small portable electric lamp, one of several Tom had brought along in his mysterious box. The lamps were operated by miniature but powerful dry batteries. The giant guards were still outside, but they showed no disposition to interfere with our friends.
“There’s something going on at the palace,” reported Mr. Damon, who was watching the big hut. “There are a lot of giants around it with torches.”
“Maybe they’re going to escort Delby to a hut with the same honors they paid us,” suggested Tom. “If they do, we’ll set off the fireworks as he comes out and maybe they’ll think he is afflicted with bad magic, and they’ll give us our freedom.”
“Good idea!” cried Ned. “Say, that’s what they’re going to do,” he added a moment later as, in the glare of a number of torches, there could be seen issuing from the king’s palace, the two big giants, evidently his brothers. Between them was the figure of the circus man, looking like a dwarf. He was not so far away but what the smile of triumph on his face could be seen as he glanced in the direction of the darkened hut where Tom and his friends were captives.
“Now’s our chance!” cried the young inventor. “Set ’em off, Ned. You help, Mr. Damon. The more noise and fuss we make at once, the more impressive it will be. Set off everything in sight!”
There was a flicker of matches as they were applied to the fuses, and then a splutter of sparks. An instant later it seemed as if the whole heavens had been lighted up.
Sky rockets shot screaming toward the zenith, aerial bombs went whirling slantingly upward amid a shower of sparks, then to burst with deafening reports, sending out string after string of colored lights. Red and green fire gleamed, and the hot balls from Roman candles burst forth. There was a whizz, a rush and a roar. Blinding flashes and startling reports followed each other as Tom and his friends set off the fireworks. It was like the Independence Day celebration of some little country village, and to the simple giants it must have seemed as if a volcano had suddenly gone into action.
For several minutes the din and racket, the glare and explosions, kept up, pouring out of the big window of the hut. And then, as the last of the display was shot off, and darkness seemed to settle down blacker than ever over the giant village, there arose howls of fear and terror from the big men and their women and children. They cried aloud in their thunderous voices, and there was fear in every cry.
CHAPTER XIX
WEAK GIANTS
A great silence followed the setting off of the fireworks—silence and darkness�
�and even the circus man ceased to shout. He wanted to see what the effect would be. So did Tom and the others. When their eyes had become used to the gloom again, after the glare of the rockets and bombs, the young inventor said:
“Look out of the windows, Ned, and see if our guards have run away.”
Ned did as requested, but for a few seconds he could make out nothing. Then he cried out:
“They’ve gone, but they’re coming back again, and there are twice as many. I guess they don’t want us to escape, Tom, for fear we may do a lot of damage.”
“Bless my hitching post!” cried Mr. Damon. “The guards doubled? We are in a predicament, Tom.”
“Yes, I’m afraid so. The fireworks didn’t just have the effect I expected. I thought they’d be glad to let us go, fearing that we could work magic, and might turn it on them. Most of the natives are deadly afraid of magic, the evil eye, witch doctors, and stuff like that. But evidently we’ve impressed the giants in the wrong way. If we could only speak their language now, we could explain that unless they let us go we might destroy their village, though of course we wouldn’t do anything of the kind. If we could only speak their language but we can’t.”
“Do you suppose they understood what Delby said?” asked Ned.
“Not a bit of it! He was just desperate when he yelled out that way. He saw that we had an advantage on him—or at least I thought we did, but I guess we didn’t,” and Tom gazed out of the windows in front of each of which stood two of the largest giants. By means of the torches it could be seen that the circus man was being taken to another hut, some distance away from the royal one. Then, after an awed silence, there broke out a confused talking and shouting among the giant population, that was drawn up in a circle a respectful distance from the hut where the captives were confined. Doubtless they were discussing what had taken place, hoping and yet fearing, that there might be more fireworks.
“Well, we might as well go to bed,” declared Tom at length. “We can’t do any more tonight, and I’m dead tired. In the morning we can talk over new plans. My box of tricks isn’t exhausted yet.”
The Tom Swift Megapack Page 162