Tom Swift and His Electric Rifle; Or, Daring Adventures in Elephant LandAppleton, Victor
General
Tom Swift and His Electric Rifle; Or, Daring Adventures in Elephant Land
Appleton, Victor
Africa -- Juvenile fiction; Elephant hunting -- Juvenile fiction; Swift, Tom (Fictitious character) -- Juvenile fiction
"We can't wait for darkness," declared Tom. "In the first place
there isn't time, and again, we don't know in what part of the
village the other captives are. We'll have to hunt around."
"And that means going right down into the midst of the imps and
fighting them hand to hand," said Ned.
"That's what it means," assented Tom grimly, "but I guess the powder
bombs will help some."
Before starting they had prepared a number of improvised bombs,
filled with powder, which could be set off by percussion. It was the
plan to drop these down from the airship, into the midst of the
savages. When the bomb struck the ground, or even on the bodies of
the red dwarfs, it would explode. It was hoped that these would so
dismay the little men that they would desert the village, and leave
the way clear for a search to be made for the other captives.
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 speed.
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.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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