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Page 56
"We've got to retreat!" yelled Tom. He hurried to the engine-room,
and turned on the power. The great propellers revolved, and sent the
Black Hawk scudding across the level plain. With yells of surprise
the red dwarfs scattered arid made way for it.
Up into the air it mounted on the broad wings. For the time being
our friends has been driven back, and the missionaries whom they had
come to rescue were still in the hands of the savages.
CHAPTER XXII
A NIGHT ATTACK
"Well, what's to be done?"
Tom Swift asked that question.
"Bless my percussion cap! They certainly are the very worst imps for
fighting that I ever heard of," commented Mr. Damon helplessly.
"Is the gas bag much punctured?" asked Ned Newton.
"Wait a minute," resumed the young inventor, as he pulled the speed
lever a trifle farther over, thereby sending the craft forward more
swiftly, "I think my question ought to be answered first. What's to
be done? Are we going to run away, and leave that man and woman to
their fate?"
"Of course not!" declared Mr. Durban stoutly, "but we couldn't stay
there, and have them destroy the airship."
"No, that's so," admitted Tom, "if we lost the airship it would be
all up with us and our chances of rescuing the missionaries. But
what can we do? I hate to retreat!"
"But what else is there left for us?" demanded Ned.
"Nothing, of course. But we've got to plan to get the best of those
red pygmies. We can't go back in the airship, and give them open
battle. There are too many of them, and, by Jove! I believe more are
coming every minute!"
Tom and the others looked down. From all sides of the plain,
hastening toward the village of mud huts, from which our friends
were retreating, could be seen swarms of the small but fierce
savages. They were coming from the jungle, and were armed with war
clubs, bows and arrows and the small but formidable blowguns.
"Where are they coming from?" asked Mr. Damon.
"From the surrounding tribes," explained Mr. Durban. "They have been
summoned to do battle against us."
"But how did the ones we fought get word to the others so soon?" Ned
demanded.
"Oh, they have ways of signaling," explained Mr. Anderson. "They can
make the notes of some of their hollow-tree drums carry a long
distance, and then they are very swift runners, and can penetrate
into the jungle along paths that a white man would hardly see. They
also use the smoke column as a signal, as our own American Indians
used to do. Oh, they can summon all their tribesmen to the fight,
and they probably will. Likely the sound of our guns attracted the
imps, though if we all had electric rifles like Tom's they wouldn't
make any noise."
"Well, my rifle didn't appear to do so very much good this tune,"
observed the young inventor, as he stopped the forward motion of the
ship now, and let it hover over the plain in sight of the village,
the gas bag serving to sustain the craft, and there was little wind
to cause it to drift. "Those fellows didn't seem to mind being hurt
and killed any more than if mosquitoes were biting them."
"The trouble is we need a whole army, armed with electric rifles to
make a successful attack," said Mr. Durban. "There are swarms of
them there now, and more coming every minute. I do hope Mr. and Mrs.
Illingway are alive yet."
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