Tom Swift and His Electric Rifle Part 12

There are few animals in Africa more dreaded by hunters than the wild buffalo, for the beast, with its spreading sharp horns is a formidable foe, and will seldom give up the attack until utterly unable to move. They are fierce and relentless.

"Look out!" yelled Mr. Durban. "To cover, everybody! If that beast gets after you it's no fun! You and I will fire at him, Mr. Anderson!"

Mr. Durban raised his rifle, and pulled the trigger, but, for some reason, the weapon failed to go off. Mr. Anderson quickly raised his, but his foot slipped in a wet place and he fell. At that moment the buffalo, with a snort of rage, charged straight for the fallen man.

"Tom! your electric rifle!" yelled Ned Newton, but he need not have done so, for the young inventor was on the alert.

Taking instant aim, and adjusting his weapon for the heaviest charge, Tom fired at the advancing beast. The result was the same as in the case of the whale, the buffalo seemed to melt away. And it was stopped only just in time, too, for it was close to the prostrate Mr. Anderson, who had sprained his ankle slightly, and could not readily rise.

It was all over in a few seconds, but it was a tense time while it lasted.

"You saved my life again, Tom Swift," said Mr. Anderson, as he limped toward our hero. "Once on Earthquake Island, and again now. I shan't forget it," and he shook hands with the young inventor.

The others congratulated Tom on his quick shot, and Mr. Damon, as usual blessed everything in sight, and the electric rifle especially.

They went back to the airs.h.i.+p, taking the fresh meat with them, but on account of the injury to Mr. Anderson's ankle could not make quick progress, so that it was almost dusk when they reached the craft.

"Well, we'll have supper, and then start off," proposed Tom, "I don't think it would be wise to remain on the ground so near the jungle."

"No' it's safer in the air," agreed Mr. Durban. The meal was much enjoyed, especially the fresh meat, and, after it was over, Tom took his place in the pilot house to start the machinery, and send the airs.h.i.+p aloft.

The motor hummed and throbbed, and the gas hissed into the bag, for the ground was not level enough to permit of a running start by means of the planes. Lights gleamed from the Black Hawk and the big search-lantern in front cast a dazzling finger of light into the black forest.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" called Ned, who heard the machinery in motion, but who could not feel the craft rising. "Why don't you go up, Tom?"

"I'm trying to," answered the young inventor. "Something seems to be the matter." He pulled the speed lever over a few more notches, and increased the power of the gas machine. Still the Black Hawk did not rise.

"Bless my handkerchief box!" cried Mr. Damon, "what's the matter?"

"I don't know," answered Tom. "We seem to be held fast."

He further increased the speed of the propellers, and the gas machine was set to make vapor at its fullest capacity, and force it into the bag. Still the craft was held to the earth.

"Maybe the gas has no effect in this climate," called Ned.

"It can't be that," replied Tom. "The gas will operate anywhere. It worked all right today."

Suddenly she airs.h.i.+p moved up a little way, and then seemed to be pulled down again, hitting the ground with a b.u.mp.

"Something is holding us!" cried Tom. "We're anch.o.r.ed to earth! I must see what it is!" and, catching up his electric rifle, he dashed out of the cabin.

CHAPTER XII

AMONG THE NATIVES

For a moment after Tom's departure the others stared blankly at one another. They could hear the throbbing and hum of the machinery, and feel the thrill of the anch.o.r.ed airs.h.i.+p. But they could not understand what the trouble was.

"We must help Tom!" cried Ned Newton at length as he caught up his rifle. "Maybe we are in the midst of a herd of elephants, and they have hold of the s.h.i.+p in their trunks."

"It couldn't be!" declared Mr. Durban, yet they soon discovered that Ned's guess was nearer the truth then any of them had suspected at the time.

"We must help him, true enough!" declared Mr. Anderson, and he and the others followed Ned out on deck.

"Where are you Tom?" called his chum.

"Here." was the answer. "I'm on the forward deck."

"Do you see anything?"

"No, it's too dark. Turn the search-light this way."

"I will," shouted Mr. Damon, and a moment later the gleam of the powerful lantern brought Tom clearly into view, as he stood on the small forward observation platform in the bow of the Black Hawk.

An instant later the young inventor let out a startled cry.

"What is it?" demanded Mr. Durban.

"An immense snake!" shouted Tom. "It's wound around a tree, and partly twined around the s.h.i.+p! That's why we couldn't go up! I'm going to shoot it."

They looked to where he pointed, and there, in the glare of the light, could be seen an immense python, fully twenty-five feet long, the forward part of its fat ugly body circled around the slender prow of the airs.h.i.+p, while the folds of the tail were about a big tree.

Tom Swift raised his electric rifle, took quick aim, and, having set it to deliver a moderate charge, pressed the b.u.t.ton. The result was surprising, for the snake being instantly killed the folds uncoiled and the s.h.i.+p shot upward, only, instead of rising on an even keel, the bow pointed toward the sky, while the stern was still fast to the earth. Tilted at an angle of forty-five degrees the Black Hawk was in a most peculiar position, and those standing on the deck began to slide along it.

"There's another snake at the stern!" cried Mr. Damon as he grasped a brace to prevent falling off. "Bless my slippers! it's the mate of the one you killed! Shoot the other one, Tom!"

The young inventor needed no urging. Making his way as best he could to the stern of the airs.h.i.+p, he killed the second python, which was even larger than the first, and in an instant the Black Hawk shot upward, this time level, and as it should be. Things on board were soon righted, and the travelers could stand upright. High above the black jungle rose the craft, moving forward under the full power of the propellers, until Tom rushed into the engine room, and reduced speed.

"Well, talk about things happening!" exclaimed Ned, when they had somewhat recovered from the excitement. "I should say they were beginning with a vengeance!"

"That's the way in Africa," declared Mr. Durban. "It's a curious country. Those pythons generally go in pairs, but it's the first time I ever knew them to tackle an airs.h.i.+p. They probably stay around here where there is plenty of small game for them, and very likely they merely anch.o.r.ed to our craft while waiting for a supper to come along."

"It was a very odd thing," said Tom. "I couldn't imagine what held us. After this I'll see that all is clear before I try to go up.

Next time we may be held by a troop of baboons and it strains the machinery to have it pull against dead weight in that way."

However, it was found no harm had resulted from this experience, and, after reducing the gas pressure, which was taking them too high, Tom set the automatic rudders.

"We'll keep on at slow speed through the night," he explained, "and in the morning we'll be pretty well into the interior. Then we can lay our course for wherever we want to go. Where had we better head for?"

"I don't want to interfere with your plans," said Mr. Anderson, "but I would like to rescue those missionaries. But the trouble is, I don't know just where to look for them. We couldn't get much of a line in Majumba on where the country of the red pygmies is located.

What do you think about it, Mr. Durban?"

"As far as elephant hunting goes we can probably do as well in the pygmy land as anywhere else," answered the veteran, "and perhaps it will be well to head for that place. If we run across any elephant herds in the meanwhile, we can stop, get the ivory, and proceed."

They discussed this plan at some length, and agreed that it was the best thing to do. Mr. Durban had a map of the country around the center of Africa, and he marked on it, as nearly as he could, the location of the pygmies' country, while Mr. Anderson also had a chart, showing the location of the mission which had been wiped out of existence. It was in the midst of a wild and desolate region.