"Rush 'em," shouted the Commander. "Now, at 'em, hammer and tongs, but don't go too far. Hooray! They're bolting." The mass of natives had, indeed, of a sudden taken to their heels, and no doubt the dash and daring of Dick and his comrades had scared them wonderfully. But there was something else to account for this sudden _volte-face_, and a sharp report and a loud detonation from the far end of the village told its tale instantly. It was the airship. There she was swooping down upon the place, one of her deck guns in operation. Pop! pop! pop! The quickfirer sent shot after shot amidst the fleeing natives, while someone located on the very nose of the ship, on the tiny, narrow gangway which led to that exposed position, waved frantically to our friends. It was Joe without a doubt. Joe in the seventh heaven of delight at the sight of his comrades. "Stay where you are," he bawled through his megaphone. "We're landing. Those niggers have gone scuttling over the river." The ship was down in their midst in the space of a few seconds, and for a while there was violent shaking of hands amongst the friends. "Thought I should never see you again," declared Joe, mopping a very fevered forehead. "Missed you after a few hours had passed and rose at once to inspect surroundings. Couldn't find a trace of you, and so began to swoop backward and forward. By chance I saw this village, and with a pair of glasses made out the situation. No, no, Larkin, not a punitive expedition this time. We've better things to do, and, after all, these natives only acted according to their own lights." The pugnacious Larkin was positively boiling, and strutted about the little group, his two fists doubled, his arms waving, his head a little forward, and his eyes turned towards the flying natives. "Just one little turn at 'em, sir," he asked. "Just one little one, if only to get a bit of me own back." "Not a step," replied Joe firmly. "Come, gentlemen, aboard, and let us be moving." It was obviously the best course to pursue, as there was nothing to be gained by attacking the natives. But as a warning to them to leave Europeans alone in the future the village was fired and the numerous dug-outs lying upon the bank of the river broken to pieces. One, however, was taken aboard the airship as a trophy, as well as sundry clubs, knives, and utensils, while Dick carried away that useful cutlass. "Just to show Mr. Reitberg, the sportsman, that we've been here," he told his chum. "But even when he sees the canoe he won't believe. However, there are other ways of making him do so." As a matter of fact Joe and Andrew had been extremely careful throughout this momentous trip to leave records of their arrival in various parts, and that document which they had obtained from the foreign office had been _viséed_ by a variety of officials in a variety of countries.