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Page 63
On rushed the Black Hawk. There was to be no concealment this time,
and Tom did not care how much noise the motors made. Accordingly he
turned on full seed.
It was not long before the big plain was again sighted. Everything
was in readiness, and the bombs were at hand to be dropped
overboard. Tom counted on the natives gathering together in great
masses as soon as they sighted the airship, and this would give him
the opportunity wanted.
But something different transpired. No sooner was the craft above
the village, than from all the huts came pouring out the little red
men. But they did not gather together--at least just then. They ran
about excitedly, and it could be seen that they were bringing from
the huts the rude household utensils in which they did their
primitive cooking. The women had their babies, and some, not so
encumbered, carried rolls of grass matting. The men had all their
weapons.
"Bless my wagon wheel!" cried Mr. Damon. "What's going on?"
"It looks like moving day," suggested Ned Newton.
"That's just what it is!" declared Mr. Durban. "They are going to
migrate. Evidently they have had enough of us, and they're going to
get out of the neighborhood before we get a chance to do any more
damage. They're moving, but where are the white captives?"
He was answered a moment later, for a crowd of the dwarfs rushing to
a certain hut, came out leading two persons by means of bark ropes
tied about their necks. It was too far off to enable Tom or the
others to recognize them, but they could tell by the clothing that
they were white captives.
"We've got to save them!" exclaimed the young inventor.
"How?" asked Mr. Damon. And, indeed, it did seem a puzzle for, even
as Tom looked, the whole tribe of red imps took up the march into
the jungle, dragging the white persons with them. The captives
looked up, saw the airship, and made frantic motions for help. It
was too far off, yet, to hear their voices. But the distance was
lessening every moment, for Tom had speeded the motor to the highest
pitch.
"What are you going to do?" demanded Ned.
"I'll show you," answered his chum. "Take some of those bombs, and
be ready to drop them overboard when I give the word."
"But we may kill those white people," objected Ned.
"Not the way I'm going to work it. You drop them when I give the
word."
Tom steered the airship toward the head of the throng of blacks. The
captives were in the rear, and the van of the strange procession was
near the edge of the jungle now. Once the red dwarfs got into the
tangle of underbrush they could never be found, and their captives
would die a miserable death.
"We've got to stop them," murmured Tom. "Are you ready, Ned?"
"Ready!"
"Then drop the bombs!"
Ned dropped them. A sharp explosion was heard, and the head of the
procession was blown apart and thrown into confusion. The throng
halted.
"Drop more!" cried Tom, sending the ship about in a circle, and
hovering it over the middle of the press of savages.
More of the deadly tombs exploded. The pygmies were running about
wildly. Tom, who was closely watching the rear of the cavalcade,
suddenly called out:
"Now's our chance! They've let their captives go, and are running
into the jungle. We must swoop down, and get the prisoners!"
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