Around the World in Ten Days Part 17

When the sun disappeared behind the forest back of them, the flyers were still making speed for their destination, with Bob at the throttle. Pretty soon the lengthening shadows and obscuring of detail below convinced the crew that night was just about upon them, and that if they did not reach Kuka within the next thirty minutes they were very likely to be in such darkness that they would overrun it and never know the difference.

Some of them began to wonder if they had not missed their course, when a cry came from Bob, and they all ran forward and looked out of the front windows at the object he was pointing out.

CHAPTER XIX

SAVED BY THE SEARCHLIGHT

What our flyers saw was a very large body of water, with a strong tone of blue to it. As far to the north as they could see, it stretched, also to the east and south. And the sh.o.r.eline on the western side nearest them was covered with what seemed a never-ending border of great forest trees, many of which had all the characteristics of mangroves.

This great expanse of water they knew could not be the Red Sea, nor could it be the Indian Ocean; for they had not traveled far enough westward to reach these bodies. Unquestionably, therefore, it was that which they were looking for--Lake Chad.

As they swept nearer, under reduced speed, they observed somewhat to their left a good-sized collection of dwellings in an opening among the mangroves, evidently a town. Swerving in that direction they were soon circling above the place at an alt.i.tude of about five hundred feet, hoping that it might prove to be Kuka, their next stop.

By this time it had grown so dark that they could just make out the buildings and surroundings. The former seemed to be nothing more than rude huts with rounded thatched roofs covered by saplings. The flyers saw many dark figures, with little or no garb, running about and excitedly gesticulating upward to their position. As they circled lower, these figures, evidently natives, suddenly vanished within their abodes.

"They seem scared to death of us," remarked Paul, laughing.

"Apparently they think the Sky-Bird is some gigantic member of the feathered kingdom about to swoop down and devour them for their sins,"

added Paul, who was equally amused. "Pete Deveaux and his crowd ought to have landed here some time this morning, though, and you would think the sight of their machine taking on gas would have gotten the blacks used to an airplane."

Be that as it may, every one of the dusky figures below had vanished as though the earth had swallowed them up. A strange if not foreboding stillness hung over the town. You would have thought it contained not a single being, at least not one who was awake.

All at once John, who had been intently looking around the outskirts of the town, observed an open spot marked with the welcome sign of a white T. He joyfully called the attention of his comrades to this, and as they looked they saw the form of a man emerge from the shadows bordering the field and wave his arms upward at them. From the fact that this person was attired in European costume, they judged he must be Mr. MacInnis, the Scotch trader who had been appointed to look after their fuel interests at this point.

It was a novel experience to be able to make a landing unhampered by throngs of curious inhabitants, as they now did. The field was quite level, though sandy, as might be expected so close to the big desert, and they had to dodge several clumps of small growths, presumably juju trees, before they could taxi to a stop.

The man in linen now rushed up to them, and introduced himself as Mr.

MacInnis. He hurriedly shook hands with the boys, displaying, they thought, great nervousness while greeting them, and several times he turned his head and looked in the direction of the nearest shacks of the town.

Then he asked what they thought a very queer question. "Have you fellows enough petrol and oil to last you through to your next stop?"

"That's Aden," answered John; "we didn't fill to capacity at Freetown, and I'm afraid not. Why, what is the matter? Haven't you any fuel here for us?"

"I have plenty of both petrol and oil here for you," said the Scotchman, with another look toward the huts, "but I am afraid for your lives if you stay to put it aboard."

"How is that?" cried Tom, his usually smiling countenance growing sober for once, while his companions felt a vague uneasiness.

"It's this way," stated MacInnis. "About eight o'clock this morning the airplane that is racing you came in. It was the first machine of the kind the natives had ever seen, and they were greatly frightened, thinking Jobbajobba, one of their heathen devils, had appeared in the guise of a great bird, and was about to attack the children of the wicked of them. When the aviators climbed out, and they saw that they were human, they lost some of this fear, but remained at a respectable distance all the time the 'great bird was being given a drink.' Then two of the men--one was the slender and dark-complexioned fellow--went into the town sight-seeing. In the course of their rounds they stole the ivory head, set with gold eyes and teeth, off of the body of one of the tribe's most cherished idols, the G.o.d of Ogu Nogo. This was not discovered until the aviators had departed in their airplane, but then the Fulbees were wild with rage at the 'bird-men,' as they called them, and swore to kill them if they should ever return. To-night they observed you landing, as I did. They are now in hiding, probably with weapons, and are undoubtedly watching your every move, ready to strike when the time comes, thinking you to be those other fellows or men of as evil instincts. As I said, I fear for your lives if you tarry here." And as he finished he once more glanced nervously around at the huts and shacks in the gloom of the fast-gathering night.

But in that direction all was so quiet that John hopefully remarked: "I think they are too frightened to appear. We need more gasoline, as we have been running very hard and our tanks are low. We will hurry matters up, and three of us will fill while the other stands guard with a rifle."

Mr. MacInnis then helped John, Tom, and Paul carry the big square tins of British petrol, which is the same as American gasoline, from the field shelter to the Sky-Bird, where, in the course of a half-hour, two hundred gallons were poured into the tanks, also ten gallons of oil.

In the meantime, Bob Giddings, rifle in hand, stood close by, alert for danger. He watched the nearest buildings of the natives sharply, but though he saw numbers of black figures skulking in the shadows among them, no sign of hostility was observed.

The Scotchman had signed his name to the doc.u.ment certifying to the stop of the flyers at Kuka,--the paper on which they were to secure certifications at every scheduled airport,--and they were just in the act of starting over to the field tank to get some water for the airplane's radiators, when, without a moment's warning a hair-raising chorus of yells broke out on the brooding night air, and scores of savage-looking figures sprang from the shadows of the buildings into the open field. They emerged in a long straggling line, hooting and brandis.h.i.+ng guns, spears and bows. They advanced toward the airplane in peculiar hops and side jumps, as if fearing an attack upon themselves. Not once did they cease their blood-curdling shouts.

Rapidly they neared the objects of their anger and hatred.

For a full five seconds the boys stood as if rooted in their tracks, too horrified and astounded to think or act. The sharp voice of the Scotchman, however, brought them to their senses.

"You've fooled here too long; it's too late to get away now! They're mad as wet hornets. Jump inside your cabin quick, and defend yourselves as well as you can!"

"But you, sir?" cried Tom.

"They won't harm me, because I'm not a flyer."

The boys dashed into the cabin and shut the door, while the Scotchman hurried away from the airplane. It was certain that there was no time to get out and crank the propeller and rise before the mad Fulbees would be upon them. Cornered in the little cabin of the machine they would sell their lives as dearly as possible.

As they stood, guns in hand, watching through the windows, while the frenzied blacks drew cautiously nearer, spreading a cordon of hundreds all around the Sky-Bird, they could see in the moonlight that the Fulbees were grotesquely painted on arms and faces, while their bodies were entirely naked except for a dirty-looking cloth wrapped around their loins in the form of a short skirt. Every one of them was armed, and as they contracted their circle, guns, spears, and bows were frequently raised in threatening position; but for some reason no shots were fired. The inmates knew, however, that when nearer approach brought more a.s.surance of hitting their target, the blacks could be counted upon to open up actual hostilities.

And now this thought brought a sudden and grave fear to their minds, one unnoticed before. The helium-gas tanks in the hollow wings and rear fuselage! Bullets, spears and arrows striking them would penetrate, and the tanks thus punctured would lose their last ounce of the precious gas!

It was a terrible predicament in which the flyers now found themselves, to be sure. By fighting they might preserve their lives, but that very act would make their world-trip impossible. What could they do?

As the drowning man catches with hope at the floating straw. Bob now conceived an almost impossible but startling idea for delivering them from their dilemma.

"The searchlight!" he cried. "These blacks never have seen one.

Perhaps we can frighten them away with ours!"

"Great idea, Bob," approved John, while the others also applauded the scheme. "Paul, you work the lever that revolves the lamp up on top of the cabin there, and, Bob, you throw in the juice."

No sooner had he spoken, than both boys were at their stations. The next moment a great white path, widening as it went, streamed out into the darkness, lighting up everything in its reach with the brilliancy of day, but with a bluish-whiteness which must have been decidedly terrifying to the superst.i.tious negroes. Like an accusing finger the strange light swept around the field, raising and lowering, resting a few moments on this group and then that group of petrified, hideously-painted faces, from which eyeb.a.l.l.s stood out like k.n.o.bs of white marble.

In an instant their incensed cries had ceased, and they had shrunk, cringing, back in their tracks. But only for a few moments, and then their gurgled yells arose once more, this time in ear-splitting fright, as all turned and fled toward the nearest forest. And that great, terrifying white eye of the big "bird" followed them, s.h.i.+ning for many a rod on black backs which were so wet with perspiration that they looked like oiled eelskin. Weapons were thrown in every direction as the Fulbees fled. Whenever one would look around and see that glaring eye looking straight at him, he would shut his own eyes and shriek, and then go das.h.i.+ng frantically on. Some even threw themselves prostrate when the flood overtook them, and uttered invocations to their G.o.ds for protection from the monster, until they could pluck up courage enough to continue their flight.

Had the situation not recently been such a serious one for them--indeed they were not out of it yet!--the flyers would have roared with laughter. As it was, they kept the light traveling over the Fulbees until the very last one had fled. Then at a quick word from John, they all jumped out of the cabin and swung the airplane around for a quick take-off.

Tom spun the propeller; there was a roar as the engine caught, and a few seconds later they were mounting up into the starlit heavens of the equatorial night. At a height of two thousand feet, they presently looked down, safe from the menace of the black populace whose reception had been so rabid.

But Kuka was blotted out in the mantle of gloom which lay between.

Only the sparkling ripples of Lake Chad, struck by the beautiful tropical moon, could be seen.

CHAPTER XX

A JUNGLE ADVENTURE

So fast had the flyers in the Sky-Bird come across the western part of the African continent, at its greatest bulge, that, coupled with their very brief stop in Kuka, they found they were starting out for Aden, Arabia, with a gain of approximately seven hours upon their lost time of fourteen hours in Freetown. They were now, therefore, just seven hours behind schedule--perhaps a little more than that behind their rivals,--but in the very fact that they were cutting down both items, they felt vastly encouraged, and as the airplane headed eastward across Lake Chad there was only one thing to worry them to any extent.

This was the need of water; that is, all felt that the need would become an urgent one before daylight should come and a chance be given to land and replenish the limited amount which they knew must now be in the radiator, owing to the impossibility of getting water as expected at Kuka.

John was at the throttle, with Tom a.s.sisting. Paul and Bob were playing with Grandpa, still too excited over their recent adventure to turn in and get some sleep, as John said they ought to do. After a little while they turned their attention to studying the chart and schedule. Frequently they compared notes, and now and then jotted down some figures on a pad.

"Do you know, John," observed Paul, looking up very cheerfully, "that if we continue to travel at the rate we did between Freetown and Kuka we shall make up all lost time by morning, and arrive at Aden about on schedule?"