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Page 67
"But I CAN'T send her up!" cried Tom.
"You can't? Why not?"
"Because the gas machine won't work until I put in a new cylinder,
and that will take at least a half a day."
"Go up as an aeroplane then!" cried Mr. Damon. "Bless my monkey
wrench, Tom, you've often done it before."
For answer Tom waved his hand toward the thick jungle all about
them.
"We haven't room to get a running start of ten feet." he said, "and
without a start the airship can never rise as a mere aeroplane. The
only way we can get up from the jungle is like a balloon, and
without the gas--"
He paused significantly. The sound of the war drums became louder,
and to it was added a weird singing chant.
"The natives!" cried Mr. Anderson. "They're coming right this way!
We must fight them off if they attack us!"
"Where's the electric rifle?" asked Ned. "Get that out, Tom!"
"Wait!" suggested Mr. Durban. "This is serious! It looks as if they
were going to attack us, and they have us at a disadvantage. Our
only safety is in flight, but as Tom says we can't go up until the
gas machine is fixed, he will have to attend to that part of it
while we keep off the black men. Tom, we can't spare you to fight
this time! You repair the ship as soon as you can, and we'll guard
her from the natives. And you've got to work lively!"
"I will!" cried the young inventor. "It's luck we have a spare
cylinder!"
Suddenly there was a louder shout in the jungle and it was followed
by a riot of sound. War drums were beaten, tom-toms clashed and the
natives howled.
"Here they are!" cried Mr. Anderson.
"Bless my suspenders!" shouted Mr. Damon. "Where is my gun?"
"Here, you take mine, and I'll use the electric rifle," answered the
elephant hunter. As he spoke there was a hissing sound in the air
and a flight of spears passed over the airship.
The defenders slipped outside, while Tom, with Ned to help him,
worked feverishly to repair the break. They were in a serious
strait, for with the airship practically helpless they were at the
mercy of the natives. And as Tom glanced momentarily from the
window, he saw scores of black, half-naked forms slipping in and out
among the trees and trailing vines.
Soon the rifles of his friends began to crack, and the yells of the
natives were changed to howls of anguish. The electric weapon,
though it made no noise, did great execution.
"I only hope they don't puncture the gas bag," murmured Tom. as he
began taking the generating machine apart so as to get out the
cracked cylinder.
"If they do, it's all up with us," murmured Ned.
After their first rush, finding that the white men were on the
alert, the blacks withdrew some distance, where their spears and
arrows were not so effective. Our friends, including Andy Foger, and
the German, kept up a hot fire whenever a skulking black form could
be seen.
But, though the danger from the spears and arrows was less, a new
peril presented itself. This was from the blow guns. The curious
weapons shot small arrows, tipped with tufts of a cottony substance
in place of feathers, and could be sent for a long distance. The
barbs were not strong enough to pierce the tough fabric of the gas
bag, as a spear or arrow would have done, but there was more danger
from them to our friends who were on deck.
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