caravan halted there, but, for the most part, they were alone.
“No danger of Eckert, or any of his spies coming here, I guess,” said Tom grimly as he blew on a portable forge, to weld two pieces of iron together.
In due time they were again on the wing, and without further incident they were soon in the vicinity of Stanley Falls. They managed to locate a village where there were some American missionaries established. They were friends of Mr. and Mrs. Illington, the missionaries whom Tom had saved from the red pygmies, as told in the “Electric Rifle” volume of this series, and they made our hero and his friends welcome.
“Is it true?” asked Tom, of the missionaries who lived not far from Stanley Falls, “that there is to be a native battle? Or are we too late for it?”
“I am sorry to say, I fear there will be fighting among the tribesmen,” replied Mr. Janeway, one of the Christian workers. “It has not yet taken place, though.”
“Then I’m not too late!” cried Tom, and there was exultation in his voice. “I don’t mean to be barbarous,” he went on, as he saw that the missionaries looked shocked, “but as long as they are going to fight I want to get the pictures.”
“Oh, they’ll fight all right,” spoke Mrs. Janeway. “The poor, ignorant natives here are always ready to fight. This time I think it is about some cattle that one tribe took from another.”
“And where will the battle take place?” asked Tom.
“Well, the rumors we have, seem to indicate that the fight will take place about ten miles north of here. We will have notice of it before it starts, as some of the natives, whom we have succeeded in converting, belong to the tribe that is to be attacked. They will be summoned to the defense of their town and then it will be time enough for you to go. Oh, war is a terrible thing! I do not like to talk about it. Tell me how you rescued our friends from the red pygmies,” and Tom was obliged to relate that story, which I have told in detail elsewhere.
Several days passed, and Tom and his friends spent a pleasant time in the African village with the missionaries. The airship and camera were in readiness for instant use, and during this period of idleness our hero got several fine films of animal scenes, including a number of night-fights among the beasts at the drinking pools. One tiger battle was especially good, from a photographic standpoint.
One afternoon, a number of native bearers came into the town. They preceded two white men, who were evidently sportsmen, or explorers, and the latter had a well equipped caravan. The strangers sought the advice of the missionaries about where big game might be found, and Tom happened to be at the cottage of Mr. Janeway when the strangers arrived.
The young inventor looked at them critically, as he was introduced to them. Both men spoke with an English accent, one introducing himself as Bruce Montgomery, and the other as Wade Kenneth. Tom decided that they were of the ordinary type of globe-trotting Britishers, until, on his way to his airship, he passed the place where the native bearers had set down the luggage of the Englishmen.
“Whew!” whistled Tom, as he caught sight of a peculiarly shaped box. “See that, Ned?”
“Yes, what is it? A new kind of magazine gun?”
“It’s a moving picture camera, or I lose my guess!” whispered Tom. “One of the old fashioned kind. Those men are no more tourists, or after big game, than I am! They’re moving picture men, and they’re here to get views of that native battle! Ned, we’ve got to be on our guard. They may be in the pay of that Turbot and Eckert firm, and they may try to do us some harm!”
“That’s so!” exclaimed Ned. “We’ll keep watch of them, Tom.”
As they neared their airship, there came, running down what served as the main village street, an African who showed evidence of having come from afar. As he ran on, he called out something in a strange tongue. Instantly from their huts the other natives swarmed.
“What’s up now?” cried Ned.
“Something important, I’ll wager,” replied Tom. “Ned, you go back to the missionaries house, and find out what it is. I’m going to stand guard over my camera.”
“It’s come!” cried Ned a little later, as he hurried into the interior of the airship, where Tom was busy working over a new attachment he intended putting on his picture machine.
“What has?”
“War! That native, whom we saw running in, brought news that the battle would take place day after to-morrow. The enemies of his tribe are on the march, so the African spies say, and he came to summon all the warriors from this town. We’ve got to get busy!”
“That’s so. What about those Englishmen?”
“They were talking to the missionaries when the runner came in. They pretended to have no interest in it, but I saw one wink to the other, and then, very soon, they went out, and I saw them talking to their native bearers, while they were busy over that box you said was a picture machine.”
“I knew it, Ned! I was sure of it! Those fellows came here to trick us, though how they ever followed our trail I don’t know. Probably they came by a fast steamer to the West Coast, and struck inland, while we were delayed on the desert. I don’t care if they are only straight out-and-out rivals–and not chaps that are trying to take an unfair advantage. I suppose all the big picture concerns have a tip about this war, and they may have representatives here. I hope we get the best views. Now come on, and give me a hand. We’ve got our work cut out for us, all right.”
“Bless my red cross bandage!” cried Mr. Damon, when he heard the news. “A native fight, eh? That will be something I haven’t seen in some time. Will there be any danger, Tom, do you think?”
“Not unless our airship tumbles down between the two African forces,” replied our hero, “and I’ll take care that it doesn’t do that. “We’ll be well out of reach of any of their blow guns, or arrows.”
“But I understand that many of the tribes have powder weapons,” said Mr. Nestor.
“They have,” admitted Tom, “but they are ‘trader’s’ rifles, and don’t carry far. We won’t run any risk from such old-fashioned guns.”
“A big fight; eh?” asked Koku when they told him what was before them. “Me like to help.”
“Yes, and I guess both sides would give a premium for your services,” remarked Tom, as he gazed at his big servant. “But we’ll need you with us, Koku.”
“Oh, me stay with you, Mr. Tom,” exclaimed the big man, with a grin.
Somewhat to Tom’s surprise the two Englishmen showed no further interest in him and his airship, after the introduction at the missionaries’ bungalow.
With the stolidity of their race the Britishers did not show any surprise, as, some time afterward, they strolled down toward Tom’s big craft, after supper, and looked it over. Soon they went back to their own camp, and a little later, Koku, who walked toward it, brought word that the Englishmen were packing up.
“They’re going to start for the seat of war the first thing in the morning,” decided Tom. “Well, we’ll get ahead of them. Though we can travel faster than they can, we’ll start now, and be on the ground in good season. Besides, I don’t like staying all night in the same neighborhood with them. Get ready for a start, Ned.”
Tom did not stop to say good-bye to the Englishmen, though he bade farewell to the missionaries, who had been so kind to him. There was much excitement in the native town, for many of the tribesmen were getting ready to depart to help their friends or relatives in the impending battle.
As dusk was falling, the big airship arose, and soon her powerful propellers were sending her across the jungle, toward Stanley Falls in the vicinity of which the battle was expected to take place.
CHAPTER XVIII – THE NATIVE BATTLE
“By Jove, Tom, here they come!”
“From over by that drinking pool?”
“Yes, just as the spies said they would. Wow, what a crowd of the black beggars there are! And some of ’em have regular guns, too. But most of ’em have clubs, bows and arrows, blow guns, or spears.”
Tom and Ned were standing on the forward part of the airship, which was moving slowly along, over an open plateau, in the jungle where the native battle was about to take place. Our friends had left the town where the missionaries lived, and had hovered over the jungle, until they saw signs of the coming struggle. They had seen nothing of their English rivals since coming away, but had no doubt but that the Britishers were somewhere in the neighborhood.
The two forces of black men, who had gone to war over a dispute about some cattle, approached each other. There was the beating of tom-toms, and skin drums, and many weird shouts. From their vantage point in the air, Tom and his companions had an excellent view. The Wizard Camera was loaded with a long reel of film, and ready for action.
“Bless my handkerchief!” cried Mr. Damon, as he looked down on the forces that were about to clash. “I never saw anything like this before!”
“I either,” admitted Tom. “But, if things go right, I’m going to get some dandy films!”
Nearer and nearer the rival forces advanced. At first they had stared, and shouted in wonder at the sight of the airship, hovering above them, but their anger soon drew their attention to the fighting at hand, and, after useless gestures toward the craft of the air, and after some of them had vainly fired their guns or arrows at it, they paid no more attention, but rushed on with their shouts and cries and amid the beating of their rude drums.
“I think I’ll begin to take pictures now,” said Tom, as Ned, in charge of the ship, sent it about in a circle, giving a general view of the rival forces. “I’ll show a scene of the two crowds getting ready for business, and, later on, when they’re actually giving each other cats and dogs, I’ll get all the pictures possible.”
The camera was started while, safe in the a those on the Flyer watched what went on below them.
Suddenly the forward squads of the two small armies of blacks met. With wild, weird yells they rushed at each other. The air was filled with flying arrows and spears. The sound of the old- fashioned muzzle-loading guns could he heard, and clouds of smoke arose. Tilting his camera, and arranging the newly attached reflecting mirrors so as to give the effect as if a spectator was looking at the battle from in front, instead of from above, Tom Swift took picture after picture.
The fight was now on. With yells of rage and defiance the Africans came together, giving blow for blow. It was a wild melee, and those on the airship looked on fascinated, though greatly wishing that such horrors could be stopped.
“How about it, Tom?” cried Ned.
“Everything going good! I don’t like this business, but now I’m in it I’m going to stick. Put me down a little lower,” answered the young inventor.
“All right. I say Tom, look over there.”
“Where?”
“By that lightning-struck gum tree. See those two men, and some sort of a machine they’ve got stuck up on stilts? See it?”
“Sure. Those are the two Englishmen–my rivals! They’re taking pictures, too!”
And then, with a crash and roar, with wild shouts and yells, with volley after volley of firearms, clouds of smoke and flights of arrows and spears, the native battle was in full swing, while the young inventor, sailing above it in his airship, reeled off view after view of the strange sight.
CHAPTER XIX – A HEAVY LOSS
“Bless my battle axe, but this is awful!” cried Mr. Damon.
“War is always a fearful thing,” spoke Mr. Nestor. “But this is not as bad as if the natives fought with modern weapons. See! most of them are fighting with clubs, and their fists. They don’t seem to hurt each other very much.”
“That’s so,” agreed Mr. Damon. The two gentlemen were in the main cabin, looking down on the fight below them, while Tom, with Ned to help him change the reels of films, as they became filled with pictures, attended to the camera. Koku was steering the craft, as he had readily learned how to manage it.
“Are those Englishmen taking pictures yet?” asked Tom, too busy to turn his head, and look for himself.
“Yes, they’re still at,” replied Ned. “But they seem to be having trouble with their machine,” he added as he saw one of the men leave the apparatus, and run hurriedly back to where they had made a temporary camp.
“I guess it’s an old-fashioned kind,” commented Tom. “Say, this is getting fierce!” he cried, as the natives got in closer contact with each other. It was now a hand-to-hand battle.
“I should say so!” yelled Ned. “It’s a wonder those Englishmen aren’t afraid to be down on the same level with the black fighters.”
“Oh, a white person is considered almost sacred by the natives here, so the missionaries told me,” said Tom. “A black man would never think of raising his hand to one, and the Englishmen probably know this. They’re safe enough. In fact I’m thinking of soon going down myself, and getting some views from the ground.”
“Bless my gizzard, Tom!” cried Mr. Damon. “Don’t do it!”
“Yes, I think I will. Why, it’s safe enough. Besides, if they attack us we have the electric rifles. Ned, you tell Koku to get the guns out, to have in readiness, and then you put the ship down. I’ll take a chance.”
“Jove! You’ve been doing nothing but take chances since we came on this trip!” exclaimed Ned, admiringly. “All right! Here we go,” and he went to relieve Koku at the wheel, while the giant, grinning cheerfully at the prospect of taking part in the fight himself, got out the rifles, including his own.
Meanwhile the native battle went on fiercely. Many on both sides fell, and not a few ran away, when they got the chance, their companions yelling at them, evidently trying to shame them into coming back.
As the airship landed, Mr. Damon, Mr. Nestor, Ned and Koku stood ready with the deadly electric rifles, in case an attack should be made on them. But the fighting natives paid no more attention to our friends than they did to the two Englishmen. The latter moved their clumsy camera from place to place, in order to get various views of the fighting.
“This is the best yet!” cried Tom, as, after a lull in the fight, when the two opposing armies had drawn a little apart, they came together again more desperately than before. “I hope the pictures are being recorded all right. I have to go at this thing pretty much in the dark. Say, look at the beggars fight!” he finished.
But a battle, even between uncivilized blacks, cannot go on for very long at a time. Many had fallen, some being quite severely injured it seemed, being carried off by their friends. Then, with a sudden rush, the side which, as our friends learned later, had been robbed of their cattle, made a fierce attack, overwhelming their enemies, and compelling them to retreat. Across the open plain the vanquished army fled, with the others after them. Tom, meanwhile, taking pictures as fast as he could.
“This ends it!” he remarked to Ned, when the warriors were too far away to make any more good views. “Now we can take a rest.”
“The Englishmen gave up some time ago,” said his chum, motioning to the two men who were taking their machine off the tripod.
“Guess their films gave out,” spoke Tom. “Well, you see it didn’t do any harm to come down, and I got some better views here.”
“Here they come back!” exclaimed Ned, as a horde of the black fellows emerged f row the jungle, and came on over the plain.
“Hear ’em sing!” commented Tom, as the sound of a rude chant came to their ears. “They must be the winners all right.”
“I guess so,” agreed Ned. “But what about staying here now? Maybe they won’t be so friendly to us when they haven’t any fighting to occupy their minds.”
“Don’t worry,” advised Tom. “They won’t bother us.”
And the blacks did not. They were caring for their wounded, who had not already been taken from the field, and they paid no attention to our friends, save to look curiously at the airship.
“Bless my newspaper!” cried Mr. Damon, with an air of relief. “I’m glad that’s over, and we didn’t have to use the electric rifles, after all.”
“Here come the Englishmen to pay us a visit,” spoke Ned a little later, as they sat about the cabin of the Flyer. The two rival picture men soon climbed on deck.
“Beg pardon,” said the taller of the two, addressing our hero, “but could you lend us a roll of film? Ours are all used up, and we want to get some more pictures before going back to our main camp.”
“I’m sorry,” replied Tom, “but I use a special size, and it fits no camera but my own.”
“Ah! might we see your camera?” asked the other Englishman. “That is, see how it works?”
“I don’t like to be disobliging,” was Tom’s answer, “but it is not yet patented and–well–” he hesitated.
“Oh, I see!” sneered the taller visitor. “You’re afraid we might steal some of your ideas. Hum!” Come on Montgomery,” and, swinging on his heels, with a military air, he hurried away, followed by his companion.
“They don’t like that, but I can’t help it,” remarked Tom to his friends a little later. “I can’t afford to take any chances.”
“No, you did just right,” said Mr. Nestor. “Those men may be all right, but from the fact that they are in the picture taking business I’d be suspicious of them.”
“Well, what’s next on the programme?” asked Ned as Tom put his camera away.
“Oh, I think we’ll stay here over night,” was our hero’s reply. “It’s a nice location, and the gas machine needs cleaning. We can do it here, and maybe I can get some more pictures.”
They were busy the rest of the day on the gas generator, but the main body of natives did not come back, and the Englishmen seemed to have disappeared.
Everyone slept soundly that night. So soundly, in fact, that the sun was very high when Koku was the first to awaken, His head felt strangely dizzy, and he wondered at a queer smell in the room he had to himself.
“Nobody up yet,” he exclaimed in surprise, as he staggered into the main cabin. There, too, was the strange, sweetish, sickly smell. “Mr. Tom, where you be? Time to get up!” the giant called to his master, as he went in, and gently shook the young inventor by the shoulder.
“Eh? What’s that? What’s the matter?” began Tom, and then he suddenly sat up. “Oh, my head!” he exclaimed, putting his hands to his aching temples.
“And that queer smell!” added Ned, who was also awake now.
“Bless my talcum powder!” cried Mr. Damon. “I have a splitting headache.”
“Hum! Chloroform, if I’m any judge!” called Mr. Nestor from his berth.
“Chloroform!” cried Tom, staggering to his feet. “I wonder” He did not finish his sentence, but made his way to the room where his camera was kept. “It’s gone!” he cried. “We have been chloroformed in the night, and some one has taken my Wizard Camera.”
CHAPTER XX – AFTER THE ENGLISHMEN
“The camera gone!” gasped Ned.
“Did they chloroform us?” exclaimed Mr. Damon. “Bless my–” but for one of the few times in his life, he did not know what to bless.
“Get all the fresh air you can,” hastily advised Mr. Nestor. “Koku, open all the doors and windows,” for, though it was hot during the day in the jungle, the nights were cool, and the airship was generally closed up. With the inrush of the fresh air every one soon felt better.
“Is anything else gone?” asked Ned, as he followed Tom into the camera room.
“Yes, several rolls of unexposed films. Oh, if only they haven’t got too much of a start! I’ll get it away from them!” declared Tom with energy.
“From who? Who took it?” asked Ned.
“Those Englishmen, of course! Who else? I believe they are in the pay of Turbot and Eckert. Their taking pictures was only a bluff! They got on my trail and stuck to it. The delays we had, gave them a chance to catch up to us. They came over to the airship, to pretend to borrow films, just to get a look at the place, and size it up, so they could chloroform us, and get the camera.”
“I believe you’re right,” declared Mr. Nestor. “We must get after those scoundrels as quickly as possible!”
“Bless my shoulder braces!” cried Mr. Damon. “How do you imagine they worked that trick on us?”
“Easily enough,” was Mr. Nestor’s opinion. “We were all dead tired last night, and slept like tops. They watched their chance, sneaked up, and got in. After that it was no hard matter to chloroform each one of us in turn, and they had the ship to themselves. They looked around, found the camera, and made off with it.”
“Well, I’m going to get right after them!” cried Tom. “Ned, start the motor. I’ll steer for a while.”
“Hold on! Wait a minute,” suggested Mr. Nestor. “I wouldn’t go off in the ship just yet,~ Tom.”
“Why not?”
“Because you don’t know which way to go. We must find out which trail the Englishmen took. They have African porters with them, and those porters doubtless know some of the blacks around here. We must inquire of the natives which way the porters went, in carrying the goods of our rivals, for those Englishmen would not abandon camp without taking their baggage with them.”
“That’s so,” admitted the young inventor. “That will be the best plan. Once I find which way they have gone I can easily overtake them in the airship. And when I find ’em–” Tom paused significantly.
“Me help you fix ’em!” cried Koku, clenching his big fist.
“They will probably figure it out that you will take after them,” said Mr. Nestor, “but they may not count on you doing it in the Flyer, and so they may not try to hide. It isn’t going to be an easy matter to pick a small party out of the jungle though, Tom.”
“Well, I’ve done more difficult things in my airships,” spoke our hero. “I’ll fly low, and use the glass. I guess we can pick out their crowd of porters, though they won’t have many. Oh, my camera! I hope they won’t damage it.”
“They won’t,” was Ned’s opinion. “It’s too valuable. They want it to take pictures with, themselves.”
“Maybe. I hope they don’t open it, and see how it’s made. And I’m glad I thought to hide the picture films I’ve taken so far. They didn’t get those away from us, only some of the blank. ones,” and Tom looked again in a secret closet. where he kept the battle-films, and the others, in the dark, to prevent them from being light-struck, by any possible chance.
“Well, if we’re going to make some inquiries, let’s do it,” suggested Mr. Nestor. “I think I see some of the Africans over there. They have made a temporary camp, it seems, to attend to some of their wounded.”
“Do you think we can make them understand what we want?” asked Ned. “I don’t believe they speak English.”
“Oh these blacks have been trading with white men,” said Tom, “for they have ‘trader’s’ guns, built to look at, and not to shoot very well. I fancy we can make ourselves understood. If not, we can use signs.”
Leaving Koku and Mr. Damon to guard the airship, Tom, Ned and Mr. Nestor went to the African camp. There was a large party of men there, and they seemed friendly enough. Probably winning the battle the day before had put them in good humor, even though many of them were hurt.
To Tom’s delight he found one native who could speak a little English, and of him they made inquiries as to what direction the Englishmen had taken. The black talked for a while among his fellows, and then reported to our friends that, late in the night, one of the porters, hired by Montgomery and Kenneth, had come to camp to bid a brother good-bye. This porter had said that his masters were in a hurry to get away, and had started west.
“That’s it!” cried Mr. Nestor. “They’re going to get somewhere so they can make their way to the coast. They want to get out of Africa as fast as they can.”
“And I’m going to get after ’em as fast as I can!” cried Tom grimly. “Come on!”
They hurried back to the airship, finding Koku and Mr. Damon peacefully engaged in talk, no one having disturbed them.
“Start the motor, Ned!” called his chum. “We’ll see what luck we have!”
Up into the air went the Flyer, her great propellers revolving rapidly. Over the jungle she shot, and then, when he found that everything was working well, and that the cleaned gas generator was operating as good as when it was new, the young inventor slowed up, and brought the craft down to a lower level.
“For we don’t want to run past these fellows, or shoot over their heads in our hurry,” Tom explained. “Ned, get out the binoculars. They’re easier to handle than the telescope. Then go up forward, and keep a sharp lookout. There is something like a jungle trail below us, and it looks to be the only one around here. They probably took that.” Soon after leaving the place where they had camped after the battle, Tom had seen a rude path through the forest, and had followed that lead.
On sped the Flyer, after the two Englishmen, while Tom thought regretfully of his stolen camera.
CHAPTER XXI – THE JUNGLE FIRE
“Well, Tom, I don’t seem to see anything of them,” remarked Ned that afternoon, as he sat in the bow of the air craft, gazing from time to time through the powerful glasses.
“No, and I can’t understand it, either,” responded the young inventor, who had come for-ward to relieve his chum. “They didn’t have much the start of us, and they’ll have to travel very slowly. It isn’t as if they could hop on a train; and, even if they did, I could overtake them in a short time. But they have to travel on foot through the jungle, and can’t have gone far.”
“‘Maybe they have bullock carts,” suggested Mr. Damon.
‘~The trail isn’t wide enough for that,” declared Tom. “We’ve come quite a distance now, even if we have been running at low speed, and we haven’t seen even a black man on the trail,” and he motioned to the rude path below them.
“They may have taken a boat and slipped down that river we crossed a little while ago,” suggested Ned.
“That’s so!” cried Tom. “Why didn’t I think of it? Say! I’m going to turn back.”
“Turn back?”
“Yes, and go up and down the stream a way. We have time, for we can easily run at top speed on the return trip. Then, if we don’t see anything of them on the water, we’ll pick up the trail again. Put her around, Ned, and I’ll take the glasses for a while.”
The Flyer was soon shooting back over the same trail our friends had covered, and, as Ned set the propellers going at top speed, they were quickly hovering over a broad but shallow river, which cut through the jungle.
“Try it down stream first,” suggested Tom, who was peering through the binoculars. “They’d be most likely to go down, as it would be easier.”
Along over the stream swept the airship, covering several miles.
“There’s a boat!” suddenly exclaimed Mr. Nestor, pointing to a native canoe below them.
“Bless my paddle wheel! So it is!” cried Mr. Damon. “I believe it’s them, Tom!”
“No, there are only natives in that craft,” answered the young inventor a moment later, as he brought the binoculars into focus. “I wish it was them, though.”
A few more miles were covered down stream, and then Tom tried the opposite direction. But all to no purpose. A number of boats were seen, and several rafts, but they had no white men on them.
“Maybe the Englishmen disguised themselves like natives, Tom,” suggested Ned.
Our hero shook his head.
“I could see everything in the boats, through these powerful glasses,” he replied, “and there was nothing like my camera. “I’d know that a mile off. No, they didn’t take to this stream, though they probably crossed it. We’ll have to keep on the way we were going. It will soon be night, and we’ll have to camp. Then we’ll take up the search to-morrow.”
It was just getting dusk, and Tom was looking about for a good place to land in the jungle, when Ned, who was standing in the bow, cried:
“I say, Tom, here’s a native village just ahead. There’s a good place to stop, and we can stay there over night.”
“Good!” exclaimed Tom. “And, what’s more, we can make some inquiries as to whether or not the Englishmen have passed here. This is great! Maybe we’ll come out all right, after all! They can’t travel at night–or at least I don’t believe they will–and if they have passed this village we can catch them to-morrow. We’ll go down.”
They were now over the native town, which was in a natural clearing in the jungle. The natives had by this time caught sight of the big airship over them, and were running about in terror. There was not a man, woman or child in sight when the Flyer came down, for the inhabitants had all fled in fright.
“Not much of a chance to make inquiries of these folks,” said Mr. Nestor.
“Oh, they’ll come back,” predicted Tom. “They are naturally curious, and when they see that the thing isn’t going to blow up, they’ll gather around. I’ve seen the same thing happen before.”
Tom proved a true prophet. In a little while some of the men began straggling back, when they saw our friends walking about the airship, as it rested on the ground. Then came the children, and then the women, until the whole population was gathered about the airship, staring at it wonderingly. Tom made signs of friendship, and was lucky enough to find a native who knew a few French words. Tom was not much of a French scholar, but he could frame a question as to the Englishmen.
“Oui!” exclaimed the native, when he understood. Then he rattled off something, which Tom, after having it repeated, and making signs to the man to make sure he understood, said meant that the Englishmen had passed through the village that morning.
“We’re on the right trail!” cried the young inventor. “They’re only a day’s travel ahead of us. We’ll catch them to-morrow, and get my camera back.”
The natives soon lost all fear of the airship, and some of the chief men even consented to come aboard. Tom gave them a few trifles for presents, and won their friendship to such an extent that a great feast was hastily gotten up in honor of the travelers. Big fires were lighted, and fowls by the score were roasted.
“Say, I’m glad we struck this place!” exclaimed Ned, as he sat on the ground with the others, eating roast fowl. “This is all to the chicken salad!”
“Things are coming our way at last,” remarked Tom. “We’ll start the first thing in the morning. I wish I had my camera now. I’d take a picture of this scene. Dad would enjoy it, and so would Mrs. Baggert. Oh, I almost wish I was home again. But if I get my camera I’ve got a lot more work ahead of me.”
“What kind?” asked Ned.
“I don’t know. I’m to stop in Paris for the next instructions from Mr. Period. He is keeping in touch with the big happenings of the world, and he may send us to Japan, to get some earthquake pictures.”
The night was quiet after the feast, and in the morning Tom and his friends sailed off in their airship, leaving behind the wondering and pleased natives, for our hero handed out more presents, of small value to him, but yet such things as the blacks prized highly.
Once more they were flying over the trail, and they put on more speed now, for they were fairly sure that the men they sought were ahead of them about a day’s travel. This meant perhaps twenty miles, and Tom figured that he could cover fifteen in a hurry, and then go over the remaining five slowly, so as not to miss his quarry.
“Say, don’t you smell something?” asked Ned a little later, when the airship had been slowed down. “Something like smoke?”
“Humph! I believe I do get an odor of something burning,” admitted Tom, sniffing the atmosphere.
“Bless my pocket book!” exclaimed Mr. Damon, “look down there, boys!” He pointed below, and, to the surprise of the lads, and no less of himself, he saw many animals hurrying back along the jungle trail.
There were scores of deer, leaping along, here and there a tawny lion, and one or two tigers. Off to one side a rhinoceros crashed his way through the tangle, and occasionally an elephant was seen.
“That’s queer,” cried Ned. “And they’re not paying any attention to each other, either.”
“Something is happening,” was Mr. Nestor’s opinion. “Those animals are running away from something.”
“Maybe it’s an elephant drive,” spoke Tom. “I think–“
But he did not finish. The smell of smoke suddenly became stronger, and, a moment later, as the airship rose higher, in response to a change in the angle of the deflecting rudder, which Ned shifted, all on board saw a great volume of black smoke rolling toward the sky.
“A jungle fire!” cried Tom. “The jungle is burning! That’s why the animals are running back this way.”
“We’d better not go on!” shouted Ned, choking a bit, as the smoke rolled nearer.
“No, we’ve got to turn back!” decided Tom. “Say, this will stop the Englishmen! They can’t go on. We’ll go back to the village we left, and wait for them. They’re trapped!” And then he added soberly: “I hope my camera doesn’t get burnt up!”
CHAPTER XXII – A DANGEROUS COMMISSION
“Look at that smoke!” yelled Ned, as he sent the airship about in a great circle on the backward trail.
“And there’s plenty of blaze, too,” added Tom. “See the flames eating away! This stuff is as dry as tinder for there hasn’t been any rain for months.”
“Much hot!” was the comment of the giant, when he felt the warm wind of the fire.
“Bless my fountain pen!” gasped Mr. Damon, as he looked down into the jungle. “See all those animals!”
The trail was now thick with deer, and many small beasts, the names of which Tom did not know. On either side could be heard larger brutes, crashing their way forward to escape the fire behind them.
“Oh, if you only had your camera now!” cried Ned. “You could get a wonderful picture, Tom.”
“What’s the use of wishing for it. Those Englishmen have it, and–“
“Maybe they’re using it!” interrupted Ned. “No, I don’t think they would know how to work it. Do you see anything of them, Ned?”
“Not a sight. But they’ll surely have to come back, just as you said, unless they got ahead of the fire. They can’t go on, and it would be madness to get off the trail in a jungle like this.”
“I don’t believe they could have gotten ahead of the fire,” spoke Tom. “They couldn’t travel fast enough for that, and see how broad the blaze is.”
They were now higher up, well out of the heat and smoke of the conflagration, and they could see that it extended for many miles along the trail, and for a mile or so on either side of it.
“We’re far enough in advance, now, to go down a bit, I guess,” said Tom, a little later. “I want to get a good view of the path, and I can’t do that from up here. I have an idea that–“
Tom did not finish, for as the airship approached nearer the ground, he caught up a pair of binoculars, and focussed them on something on the trail below.
“What is it?” cried Ned, startled by something in his chum’s manner.
“It’s them! The Englishmen!” cried Tom. “See, they are racing back along the trail. Their porters have deserted them. But they have my camera! I can see it! I’m going down, and get it! Ned, stand by the wheel, and make a quick landing. Then we’ll go up again!”
Tom handed the glasses to his chum, and Ned quickly verified the young inventor’s statement. There were the two rascally Englishmen. The fire was still some distance in the rear, but was coming on rapidly. There were no animals to be seen, for they had probably gone off on a side trail, or had slunk deeper into the jungle. Above the distant roar of the blaze sounded the throb of the airship’s motor. The Englishmen heard it, and looked up. Then, suddenly, they motioned to Tom to descend.
“That’s what I’m going to do,” he said aloud, but of course they could not hear him.
“They’re waiting for us!” cried Ned. “I wonder why?” for the rascals had come to a halt, setting down the packs they carried on the trail. One of the things they had was undoubtedly Tom’s camera.
“They probably want us to save their lives,” said Tom. “They know they can’t out-run this fire. They’ve given up! We have them now!”
“Are you going to save them?” asked Mr. Damon.
“Of course. I wouldn’t let my worst enemy run the chances of danger in that terrible blaze. I’d save them even if they had smashed my camera. I’ll go down, and get them, and take them back to the native village, but that’s as far as I will carry them. They’ll have to get away as best they can, after that.”
It was the work of but a few minutes to lower the airship to the trail. Fortunately it widened a bit at this point, or Tom could never have gotten his craft down through the trees.
“Hand up that camera!” ordered our hero curtly, when he had stopped near the Englishmen.
“Yes, my dear chap,” spoke the tall Britisher, “but will you oblige us, by taking us–“
“Hand up the camera first!” sharply ordered Tom again.
They passed it to him.
“I know we treated you beastly mean,” went on Kenneth, “but, my dear chap–“
“Get aboard,” was all Tom said, and when the rascals, with fearful glances back into the burning jungle, did so, our hero sent his craft high into the air again.
“Where are you taking us, my dear chap?” asked the tall rascal.
“Don’t ‘dear chap’ me!” retorted Tom. “I don’t want to talk to you. I’m going to drop you at the native village.”
“But that will burn!” cried the Englishman.
“The wind is changing,” was our hero’s answer. “The fire won’t get to the village. You’ll be safe. Have you damaged my camera?” he asked as he began to examine it, while Ned managed the ship.
“No, my dear chap. You mustn’t think too hard of us. We were both down on our luck, and a chap offered us a big sum to get on your trail, and secure the camera. He said you had filched it from him, and that he had a right to it. Understand, we wouldn’t have taken it had we known–“
“Don’t talk to me!” interrupted Tom, as he saw that his apparatus had not been damaged. “The man who hired you was a rascal–that’s all I’ll say. Put on a little more speed, Ned. I want to get rid of these ‘dear chaps’ and take some pictures of the jungle fire.”
As Tom had said, the wind had changed, and was blowing the flames away off to one side, so that the native village would be in no danger. It was soon reached, and the Africans were surprised to see Tom’s airship back again. But he did not stay long, descending only to let the Englishmen alight. They pleaded to be taken to the coast, making all sorts of promises, and stating that, had they known that Turbot and Eckert (for whom they admitted they had acted) were not telling the truth, they never would have taken Tom’s camera.
“Don’t leave us here!” they pleaded.
“I wouldn’t have you on board my airship another minute for a fortune!” declared Tom, as he signalled to Ned to start the motor. Then the Flyer ascended on high, leaving the plotters and started back for the fire, of which Tom got a series of fine moving pictures.
A week later our friends were in Paris, having made a quick trip, on which little of incident occurred, though Tom managed to get quite a number of good views on the way.
He found a message awaiting him, from Mr. Period.
“Well, where to now?” asked Ned, as his chum read the cablegram.
“Great Scott!” cried our hero. “Talk about hair-raising jobs, this certainly is the limit!”
“Why, what’s the matter?”
“I’ve got to get some moving pictures of a volcano in action,” was the answer. “Say, if I’d known what sort of things ‘Spotty’ wanted, I’d never have consented to take this trip. A volcano in action, and maybe an earthquake on the side! This is certainly going some!”
CHAPTER XXIII – AT THE VOLCANO
“And you’ve got to snap-shot a volcano?” remarked Ned to his chum, after a moment of surprised silence. “Any particular one? Is it Vesuvius? If it is we haven’t far to go. But how does Mr. Period know that it’s going to get into action when we want it to?”
“No, it isn’t Vesuvius,” replied Tom. “We’ve got to take another long trip, and we’ll have to go by steamer again. The message says that the Arequipa volcano, near the city of the same name, in Peru, has started to ‘erupt,’ and, according to rumor, it’s acting as it did many years ago, just before a big upheaval.”
“Bless my Pumice stones!” cried Mr. Damon. “And are you expected to get pictures of it shooting out flames and smoke, Tom?”
“Of course. An inactive volcano wouldn’t make much of a moving picture. Well, if we go to Peru, we won’t be far from the United States, and we can fly back home in the airship. But we’ve got to take the Flyer apart, and pack up again.”
“Will you have time?” asked Mr. Nestor. “Maybe the volcano will get into action before you arrive, and the performance will be all over with.”
“I think not,” spoke Tom, as he again read the cablegram. “Mr. Period says he has advices from Peru to the effect that, on other occasions, it took about a month from the time smoke was first seen coming from the crater, before the fireworks started up. I guess we’ve got time enough, but we won’t waste any.”
“And I guess Montgomery and Kenneth won’t be there to make trouble for us,” put in Ned. “It will be some time before they get away from that African town, I think.”
They began work that day on taking the airship apart for transportation to the steamer that was to carry them across the ocean. Tom decided on going to Panama, to get a series of pictures on the work of digging that vast canal. On inquiry he learned that a steamer was soon to sail for Colon, so he took passage for his friends and himself on that, also arranging for the carrying of the parts of his airship.
It was rather hard work to take the Flyer apart, but it was finally done, and, in about a week from the time of arriving in Paris, they left that beautiful city. The pictures already taken were forwarded to Mr. Period, with a letter of explanation of Tom’s adventures thus far, and an account of how his rivals had acted.
Just before sailing, Tom received another message from his strange employer. The cablegram read:
“Understand our rivals are also going to try for volcano pictures. Can’t find out who will represent Turbot and Eckert, but watch out. Be suspicious of strangers.”
“That’s what I will!” cried Tom. “If they get my camera away from me again, it will be my own fault.”
The voyage to Colon was not specially interesting. They ran into a terrific storm, about half way over, and Tom took some pictures from the steamer’s bridge, the captain allowing him to do so, but warning him to be careful.
“I’ll take Koku up there with me,” said the young inventor, “and if a wave tries to wash me overboard he’ll grab me.”
And it was a good thing that he took this precaution, for, while a wave did not get as high as the bridge, one big, green roller smashed over the bow of the vessel, staggering her so that Tom was tossed against the rail. He would have been seriously hurt, and his camera might have been broken, but for the quickness of the giant.
Koku caught his master, camera and all, in a mighty arm, and with the other clung to a stanchion, holding Tom in safety until the ship was on a level keel once more.
“Thanks, Koku!” gasped Tom. “You always seem to be around when I need you.” The giant grinned happily.
The storm blew out in a few days, and, from then on, there was pleasant sailing. When Tom’s airship had been reassembled at Colon, it created quite a sensation among the small army of canal workers, and, for their benefit, our hero gave several flying exhibitions.
He then took some of the engineers on a little trip, and in turn, they did him the favor of letting him get moving pictures of parts of the work not usually seen.
“And now for the volcano!” cried Tom one morning, when having shipped to Mr. Period the canal pictures, the Flyer was sent aloft, and her nose pointed toward Arequipa. “We’ve got quite a run before us.”
“How long?” asked Ned.
“About two thousand miles. But I’m going to speed her up to the limit.” Tom was as good as his word, and soon the Flyer was shooting along at her best rate, reeling off mile after mile, just below the clouds.
It was a wild and desolate region over which the travelers found themselves most of the time, though the scenery was magnificent. They sailed over Quito, that city on the equator, and, a little later, they passed above the Cotopaxi and Chimbarazo volcanoes. But neither of them was in action. The Andes Mountains, as you all know, has many volcanoes scattered along the range. Lima was the next large city, and there Tom made a descent to inquire about the burning mountain he was shortly to photograph.
“It will soon be in action,” the United States counsel said. “I had a letter from a correspondent near there only yesterday, and he said the people in the town were getting anxious. They are fearing a shower of burning ashes, or that the eruption may be accompanied by an earthquake.”
“Good!” cried Tom. “Oh, I don’t mean it exactly that way,” he hastened to add, as he saw the counsel looking queerly at him. “I meant that I could get pictures of both earthquake and volcano then. I don’t wish the poor people any harm.”
“Well, you’re the first one I ever saw who was anxious to get next door to a volcano,” remarked the counsel. “Hold on, though, that’s not quite right. I heard yesterday that a couple of young fellows passed through here on their way to the same place. Come to think of it, they were moving picture men, also.”
“Great Scott!” cried Tom. “Those must be my rivals, I’ll wager. I must get right on the job. Thanks for the information,” and hurrying front the office he joined his friends on the airship. and was soon aloft again.
“Look, Tom, what’s that?” cried Ned, about noon the next day when the Flyer, according to their calculations must be nearing the city of Arequipa. “See that black cloud over there. I hope it isn’t a tornado, or a cyclone, or whatever they call the big wind storms down here.”
Tom, and the others, looked to where Ned pointed. There was a column of dense smoke hovering in the air, lazily swirling this way and that. The airship was rapidly approaching it.
“Why that–” began Tom, but before he could complete the sentence the smoke was blown violently upward. It became streaked with fire, and, a moment later, there was the echo of a tremendous explosion.
“The volcano!” cried Tom. “The Arequipa volcano! We’re here just in time, for she’s in eruption now! Come on, Ned, help me get out the camera! Mr. Damon, you and Mr. Nestor manage the airship! Put us as close as you dare! I’m going to get some crackerjack pictures!”
Once more came a great report.
“Bless my toothpick!” gasped Mr. Damon. “This is awful!” And the airship rushed on toward the volcano which could be plainly seen now, belching forth fire, smoke and ashes.
CHAPTER XXIV – THE MOLTEN RIVER
“Whew!” gasped Ned, as he stood beside Tom in the bow of the airship. “What’s that choking us, Tom?”
“Sulphur, I guess, and gases from the volcano. The wind blew ’em over this way. They’re not dangerous, as long as there is no carbonic acid gas given off, and I don’t smell any of that, yet. Say, Ned, it’s erupting all right, isn’t it?”
“I should say so!” cried his chum.
“Put us a little to one side, Mr. Damon,” called Tom to his friend, who was in the pilot house. “I can’t get good pictures through so much smoke. “It’s clearer off to the left.”
“Bless my bath robe!” cried the odd man. “You’re as cool about it, Tom, as though you were just in an ordinary race, at an aeroplane meet.”
“And why shouldn’t I be?” asked our hero with a laugh, as he stopped the mechanism of the camera until he should have a clearer view of the volcano. “There’s not much danger up here, but I want to get some views from the level, later, and then–“
“You don’t get me down there!” interrupted Mr. Nestor, with a grim laugh.
They were now hovering over the volcano, but high enough up so that none of the great stones that were being thrown out could reach them. The column of black smoke, amid which could be seen the gleams of the molten fires in the crater, rolled toward them, and the smell of sulphur became stronger.
But when, in accordance with Tom’s suggestion, the airship had been sent over to one side, they were clear of the vapor and the noxious gas. Then, too, a better view could be had of the volcano below them.
“Hold her down!” cried Tom, as he got in a good position, and the propellers were slowed down so that they just overcame the influence of a slight wind. Thus the Flyer hovered in the air, while below her the volcano belched forth red-hot rocks, some of them immense in size, and quantities of hot ashes and cinders. Tom had the camera going again now, and there was every prospect of getting a startling and wonderful, as well as rare series of moving pictures.
“Wow! That was a big one!” cried Ned, as an unusually large mass of rocks was thrown out, and the column of fire and smoke ascended nearly to the hovering craft. A moment later came an explosion, louder than any that had preceded. “We’d better be going up; hadn’t we Tom?” his chum asked.
“A little, yes, but not too far. I want to get as many near views as I can.”
“Bless my overshoes!” gasped Mr. Damon, as he heard Tom say that. Then he sent some of the vapor from the generating machine into the gas bag, and the Flyer arose slightly.
Ned looked in the direction of the town, but could not see it, on account of the haze. Then he directed his attention to the terrifying sight below him.
“It’s a good thing it isn’t very near the city,” he said to Tom, who was engaged in watching the automatic apparatus of the camera, to see when he would have to put in a fresh film. “It wouldn’t take much of this sort of thing to destroy a big city. But I don’t see any streams of burning lava, such as they always say come out of a volcano.”
“It isn’t time for that yet,” replied Tom. “The lava comes out last, after the top layer of stones and ashes have been blown out. They are a sort of stopper to the volcano, I guess, like the cork of a bottle, and, when they’re out of the way, the red-hot melted rock comes out. Then there’s trouble. I want to get pictures of that.”
“Well, keep far enough away,” advised Mr. Nestor, who had come forward. “Don’t take any chances. I guess your rivals won’t get here in time to take any pictures, for they can’t travel as fast as we did.”
“No,” agreed the young inventor, “unless some other party of them were here ahead of us. They’ll have their own troubles, though, making pictures anything like as good as we’re getting.”
“There goes another blast!” cried Ned, as a terrific explosion sounded, and a shower of hot stuff was thrown high into the air. “If I lived in Arequipa I’d be moving out about now.”
“There isn’t much danger I guess, except from showers of burning ashes, and volcanic dust,” spoke Mr. Nestor, “and the wind is blowing it away from the town. If it continues this way the people will be saved.”
“Unless there is so much of the red-hot lava that it will bury the city,” suggested Tom. “I hope that doesn’t happen,” and he could not repress a shudder as he looked down on the awful scene below him.
After that last explosion the volcano appeared to subside somewhat, though great clouds of smoke and tongues of fire leaped upward.
“I’ve got to put in a new reel of film!” suddenly exclaimed Tom. “While I stop the camera, Mr. Damon, I think you and Mr. Nestor might put the airship down to the ground. I want some views on the level.”
“What! Go down to earth with this awful volcano spouting fire?” cried Mr. Damon. “Bless my comb and brush!”
“We can get well down the side of the mountain,” said Tom. “I won’t go into any danger, much less ask any one else to do so, and I certainly don’t want my ship damaged. We can land down there,” he said, pointing to a spot on the side of the volcanic mountain, that was some distance removed from the mouth of the crater. It won’t take me long to get one reel of views, and then I’ll come up again.”
The two men finally gave in to Tom’s argument, that there was comparatively little danger, for they admitted that they could quickly rise up at the first sign of danger, and accordingly the Flyer descended. Tom quickly had a fresh reel of film inserted, and started his camera to working, standing it on a tripod some distance from the airship.
Once more the volcano was “doing its prettiest,” as Tom expressed it. He glanced around, as another big explosion took place, to see if any other picture men were on hand, but the terrible mountain seemed deserted, though of course someone might be on the other side.
“What’s that?” suddenly cried Ned, looking apprehensively at his chum. At the same time Tom jumped to his feet, for he had been kneeling near the camera.
“Bless my–” began Mr. Damon, but he got no farther, for suddenly the solid ground began to tremble and shake.
“An earthquake!” shouted Mr. Nestor. “Come, Tom! Get back to the ship!” The young inventor and Ned had been the only ones to leave it, as it rested on a spur of the mountain.
As Tom and Ned leaped forward to save the camera which was toppling to one side, there came a great fissure in the side of the volcano, and a stream of molten rock, glowing white with heat, gushed out. It was a veritable river of melted stone, and it was coming straight for the two lads.
“Run! Run!” cried Mr. Nestor. “We have everything ready for a quick flight. “Run, Tom! Ned!”
The lads leaped for the Flyer, the molten rock coming nearer and nearer, and then with a cry Koku sprang overboard and made a dash toward his master.
CHAPTER XXV – THE EARTHQUAKE–CONCLUSION
“Here, Mr. Tom. Me carry you an’ Ned. You hold picture machine!” cried the giant. “Me run faster.”
As he spoke he lifted Ned up under one arm, and caught Tom in the other. For they were but as children to his immense strength. Tom held on to his camera, and, thus laden down, Koku ran as he had never run before, toward the waiting airship.
“Come on! Come on!” shouted Mr. Damon, for he could see what Tom, Ned and Koku could not, that the stream of lava was nearing them rapidly.
“It’s hot!” cried Ned, as a wave of warm air fanned his cheek.
“I should say so!” cried Tom. “The volcano is full of red-hot melted stone.”
There came a sickening shake of the earth. Koku staggered as he ran on, but he kept his feet, and did not fall. Again came a tremendous explosion, and a shower of fine ashes sifted over the airship, and on Koku and his living burdens.
“This is the worst ever!” gasped Tom. “But I’ve got some dandy pictures, if we ever get away from here alive to develop them.”
“Hurry, Koku! Hurry!” begged Mr. Nestor. “Bless my shoe laces!” yelled Mr. Damon, who was fairly jumping up and down on the deck of the Flyer. “I’ll never go near a volcano again!”
Once more the ground shook and trembled, as the earthquake rent it. Several cracks appeared in Koku’s path, but he leaped over them with tremendous energy. A moment later he had thrust Tom and Ned over the rail, to the deck, and leaped aboard himself.
“Let her go!” cried Tom. “I’ll do the rest of my moving picture work, around volcanoes and earthquakes, from up in the air!”
The Flyer shot upward, and scarcely a moment too soon, for, an instant after she left the ground, the stream of hot, burning and bubbling lava rolled beneath her, and those on board could feel the heat of it ascending.
“Say, I’m glad we got out of that when we did,” gasped Ned, as he looked down. “You’re all right, Koku.”
“That no trouble,” replied the giant with a cheerful grin. “Me carry four fellows like you,” and he stretched out his big arms. Tom had at once set his camera to working again, taking view after view.
It was a terrifying but magnificent sight that our friends beheld, for the earth was trembling and heaving. Great fissures opened in many places. Into some of them streams of lava poured, for now the volcano had opened in several places, and from each crack the melted rocks belched out. The crater, however, was not sending into the air such volumes of smoke and ashes as before, as most of the tremendous energy had passed, or was being used to spout out the lava.
The earthquake was confined to the region right about the volcano, or there might have been a great loss of life in the city. As it was, the damage done was comparatively slight.
Tom continued to take views, some showing the earth as it was twisted and torn, and other different aspects of the crater. Then, as suddenly as the earthquake had begun, it subsided, and the volcano was less active.
“My! I’m glad to see that!” exclaimed Mr. Damon. “I’ve had about enough of horrors!”
“And I have too,” added Tom. “I’m on my last roll of film, and I can’t take many more pictures. But I guess I have all Mr. Period needs, and we’ll start for home, as soon as I finish the next roll. But I’m going to save that for a night view. That will he a novelty.”
The volcano became active again after dark, and presented a magnificent though terrifying aspect. As the airship hovered above it, Tom got some of his best pictures, and then, as the last bit of film slipped along back of the lens, the airship was headed north.
“Now for Shopton!” cried Tom. “Our trip is ended.”
“It’s too had you didn’t have more film,” said Ned. “I thought you had plenty.”
“Well, I used more than I counted on, but there are enough pictures as it is.”
“Plenty,” agreed Mr. Nestor. “I’m sure our company will be very well satisfied with them, Tom. We can’t get home any too soon to suit me. I’ve had enough excitement.”
“And we didn’t see anything of those other fellows whom we heard about,” spoke Mr. Damon, as the big airship flew on.
“No,” said Tom. “But I’m not worrying about them.”
They made another stop in Lima, on their homeward trip, to renew their supply of gasolene, and there learned that the rival picture men had arrived at the volcano too late to see it in operation. This news came to a relative of one of the two men who lived in Lima.
“Then our views of the earthquake and the smoking mountain will be the only ones, and your company can control the rights,” said Tom to Mr. Nestor, who agreed with him.
In due time, and without anything out of the ordinary happening the Flyer reached Shopton, where Tom found a warm welcome awaiting him, not only from his father, but from a certain young lady, whose name I do not need to mention.
“And so you got everything you went after, didn’t you, Tom,” exclaimed Mr. Period, a few days later, when he had come from New York to get the remainder of the films.
“Yes, and some things I didn’t expect,” replied Tom. “There was–“
“Yes! Yes! I know!” interrupted the odd picture man. “It was that jungle fire. That’s a magnificent series. None better. And those scoundrels took your camera; eh?”
“Yes. Could you connect them with Turbot and Eckert?” asked Tom.
“No, but I’m sure they were acting for them just the same. I had no legal evidence to act on, however, so I had to let it go. Turbot and Eckert won’t be in it when I start selling duplicates of the films you have. And these last ought to be the best of all. I didn’t catch that fellow when I raced after him on the dock. He got away, and has steered clear of me since,” finished Mr. Period.
“And our rivals didn’t secure any views like ours,” said Tom.
“I’m glad of it,” spoke Mr. Period. “Turbot and Eckert bribed one of my men, and so found out where I was sending messages to you. They even got a copy of my cablegram. But it did them no good.”
“Were all the films clear that I sent you?” asked our hero.
“Every one. Couldn’t be better. The animal views were particularly fine. You must have had your nerve with you to get some of ’em.”
“Oh, Tom always has his nerve,” laughed Ned.
“Well, how soon will you be ready to start out again?” asked the picture man, as he packed up the last of the films which Tom gave him. “I’d like to get some views of a Japanese earthquake, and we haven’t any polar views. I want some of them, taken as near the North Pole as you can get.”
Tom gently shook his head.
“What! You don’t mean to say you won’t get them for me?” cried Mr. Period. “With that wonderful camera of yours you can get views no one else ever could.”
“Then some one else will have to take them,” remarked the young inventor. “I’ll lend you the camera, and an airship, and you can go yourself, Mr. Period. I’m going to stay home for a while. I did what I set out to do, and that’s enough.”
“I’m glad you’ll stay home, Tom,” said his father. “Now perhaps I’ll get my gyroscope finished.”
“And I, my noiseless airship,” went on our hero. “No, Mr. Period, you’ll have to excuse me this time. Why don’t you go yourself?” he asked. “You would know just what kind of pictures you wanted.”
“No, I’m a promoter of the moving picture business, and I sell films, but I don’t know hew to take them,” was the answer. “Besides I–er–well, I don’t exactly care for airships, Tom Swift,” he finished with a laugh. “Well, I can’t thank you enough for what you did for me, and I’ve brought you a check to cover your expenses, and pay you as I agreed. All the same I’m sorry you won’t start for Japan, or the North Pole.”
“Nothing doing,” said Tom with a laugh; and Mr. Period departed.
“Have you any idea what you will do next?” asked Ned, a day or so later, when he and Tom were in the workshop.
“I can’t tell until I finish my noiseless airship,” was the answer. “Then something may happen.”
Something did, as I shall have the pleasure of telling you about in the next volume of this series, to be called, “Tom Swift and His Great Searchlight; or, On the Border for Uncle Sam,” and in it will be given an account of a great lantern our hero made, and how he baffled the smugglers with it.
“Oh, Tom, weren’t you dreadfully frightened when you saw that burning river of lava coming toward you?” asked Mary Nestor, when the young inventor called on her later and told her some of his adventures. “I should have been scared to death.”
“Well, I didn’t have time to get scared,” answered Tom. “It all happened so quickly, and then, too I was thinking of my camera. Next I knew Koku grabbed me, and it was all over.”
“But those wild beasts! Didn’t they frighten you, especially when the rhinoceros charged you?”
“If you won’t let it get out, I’ll make a confession to you,” said Tom, lowering his voice. “I was scared stiff that time, but don’t let Ned know it.”
“I won’t,” promised Mary with a laugh. And now, when Tom is in such pleasant company, we will take leave of him for a while, knowing that. sooner or later, he will be seeking new adventures as exciting as those of the past.
THE END
—————————————————————–
THE TOM SWIFT SERIES
By VICTOR APPLETON
12mo. CLOTH. UNIFORM STYLE OF BINDING. COLORED WRAPPERS.
These spirited tales convey In a realistic way the wonderful advances in land and sea locomotion. Stories like these are impressed upon the memory and their reading Is productive only of good.
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR CYCLE
Or Fun and Adventure on the Road
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR BOAT
Or The Rivals of Lake Carlopa
TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIRSHIP
Or The Stirring cruise of the Red Cloud TOM SWIFT AND HIS SUBMARINE BOAT
Or Under the Ocean for Sunken Treasure TOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RUNABOUT
Or The Speediest car on the Road
TOM SWIFT AND HIS WIRELESS MESSAGE
Or The castaways of Earthquake Island TOM SWIFT AMONG THE DIAMOND MAKERS
Or The Secret of Phantom Mountain
TOM SWIFT IN THE CAVES OF ICE
Or The Wreck of the Airship
TOM SWIFT AND HIS SKY RACER
Or The Quickest Flight on Record
TOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RIFLE
Or Daring Adventures In Elephant Land TOM SWIFT IN THE CITY OF GOLD
Or Marvelous Adventures Underground
TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIR GLIDER
Or Seeking the Platinum Treasure
TOM SWIFT IN CAPTIVITY
Or A Daring Escape by Airship
TOM SWIFT AND HIS WIZARD CAMERA
Or The Perils of Moving Picture Taking TOM SWIFT AND HIS GREAT SEARCHLIGHT
Or On the Border for Uncle Sam
TOM SWIFT AND HIS GIANT CANNON
Or The Longest Shots on Record
TOM SWIFT AND HIS PHOTO TELEPHONE
Or The Picture that Saved a Fortune
TOM SWIFT AND HIS AERIAL WARSHIP
Or The Naval Terror of the Seas
TOM SWIFT AND HIS BIG TUNNEL
Or The Hidden city of the Andes
THE BUNNY BROWN SERIES
By LAURA LEE HOPE
Author of the Popular “Bobbsey Twins” Books
wrapper and text illustrations drawn by
FLORENCE ENGLAND NOSWORTHY
12mo. DURABLY BOUND. ILLUSTRATED. UNIFORM STYLE OF BINDING
These stories by the author of the “Bobbsey Twins” Books are eagerly welcomed by the little folks from about five to ten years of age. Their eyes fairly dance with delight at the lively doings of inquisitive little Bunny Brown and his cunning, trustful sister Sue.
Bunny was a lively little boy. very inquisitive. When he did anything, Sue followed his leadership. They had many adventures, some comical in the extreme.
BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE
BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE ON GRANDPA’S FARM BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE PLAYING CIRCUS BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AT CAMP REST-A-WHILE BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AT AUNT LU’S CITY HOME BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE IN THE BIG WOODS BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE ON AN AUTO TOUR BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AND THEIR SHETLAND PONY BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE GIVING A SHOW BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AT CHRISTMAS TREE COVE
THE BOBBSEY TWINS BOOKS
For Little Men and Women
By LAURA LEE HOPE
Author of ‘The Bunny Brown” Series. Etc. 12mo. DURABLY BOUND. ILLUSTRATED. UNIFORM STYLE OF BINDING
Copyright publications which cannot be obtained elsewhere. Books that charm the hearts of the little ones, and of which they never tire.
THE BOBBSEY TWINS
THE BOBBSEY TWINS IN THE COUNTRY
THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT THE SEASHORE
THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT SCHOOL
THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT SNOW LODGE
THE BOBBSEY TWINS ON A HOUSEBOAT
THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT MEADOW BROOK
THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT HOME
THE BOBBSEY TWINS IN A GREAT CITY
THE BOBBSEY TWINS ON BLUEBERRY ISLAND THE BOBBSEY TWINS ON THE DEEP BLUE SEA
THE BOBBSEY TWINS IN THE GREAT WEST
THE MOVING PICTURE GIRLS SERIES
By LAURA LEE HOPE
Author of “The Bobbsey Twins Series.”
l2mo. BOUND IN CLOTH. ILLUSTRATED. UNIFORM STYLE OF BINDING
The adventures of Ruth and Alice DeVere. Their father, a widower, is an actor who has taken up work for the “movies.” Both girls wish to aid him in his work and visit various localities to act in all sorts of pictures.
THE MOVING PICTURE GIRLS
Or First Appearance in Photo Dramas.
Having lost his voice, the father of the girls goes into the movies and the girls follow. Tells how many “parlor dramas” are filmed.
THE MOVING PICTURE GIRLS AT OAK FARM
Or Queer Happenings While Taking Rural Plays.
Full of fun in the country, the haps and mishaps of taking film plays, and giving an account of two unusual discoveries.
THE MOVING PICTURE GIRLS SNOWBOUND
Or The Proof on the Film.
A tale of winter adventures in the wilderness, showing how the photo-play actors sometimes suffer.
THE MOVING PICTURE GIRLS UNDER THE PALMS Or Lost in the Wilds of Florida.
How they went to the land of palms, played many parts in dramas before the camera; were lost, and aided others who were also lost.
THE MOVING PICTURE GIRLS AT ROCKY RANCH Or Great Days Among the Cowboys.
All who have ever seen moving pictures of the rest west will want to know just how they are made. This volume gives every detail and is full of clean fun and excitement.
THE MOVING PICTURE GIRLS AT SEA
Or a Pictured Shipwreck that Became Real.
A thrilling account of the girls’ experiences on the water.
THE MOVING PICTURE GIRLS IN WAR PLAYS Or The Sham Battles at Oak Farm.
The girls play important parts in big battle scenes and have plenty of hard work along with considerable fun.
THE OUTDOOR CHUMS SERIES
By CAPTAIN QUINCY ALLEN
The outdoor chums are four wide-awake lads, sons of wealthy men of a small city located on a lake. The boys love outdoor life, and are greatly interested in hunting, fishing, and picture taking. They have motor cycles, motor boats, canoes, etc., and during their vacations go everywhere and have all sorts of thrilling adventures. The stories give full directions for camping out, how to fish, how to hunt wild animals and prepare the skins for stuffing, how to manage a canoe, how to swim, etc. Full of the spirit of outdoor life,
THE OUTDOOR CHUMS
Or The First Tour of the Rod, Gun and Camera Club.
THE OUTDOOR CHUMS ON THE LAKE
Or Lively Adventures on Wildcat Island.
THE OUTDOOR CHUMS IN THE FOREST
Or Laying the Ghost of Oak Ridge.
THE OUTDOOR CHUMS ON THE GULF
Or Rescuing the Lost Balloonists.
THE OUTDOOR CHUMS AFTER BIG GAME.
Or Perilous Adventures in the Wilderness.
THE OUTDOOR CHUMS ON A HOUSEBOAT
Or The Rivals of the Mississippi.
THE OUTDOOR CHUMS IN THE BIG WOODS
Or The Rival Hunters at Lumber Run.
THE OUTDOOR CHUMS AT CABIN POINT
Or The Golden Cup Mystery.
12mo. Averaging 240 pages. Illustrated. Handsomely bound in Cloth.
THE GIRLS OF CENTRAL HIGH SERIES
By GERTRUDE W. MORRISON
l2mo. BOUND IN CLOTH. ILLUSTRATED. UNIFORM STYLE OF BINDING.
Here is a series full of the spirit of high school life of today. The girls are real flesh-and-blood characters, and we follow them with interest in school and out. There are many contested matches on track and field, and on the water, as well as doings in the classroom and on the school stage. There it plenty of fun and excitement, all clean, pure and wholesome.
THE GIRLS OF CENTRAL HIGH
Or Rivals for all Honors.
A stirring tale of high school life, full of fun, with a tomb of mystery and a strange initiation.
THE GIRLS OF CENTRAL HIGH ON LAKE LUNA Or The Crew That Won.
Telling of water sports and fun galore, and of fine times in camp.
THE GIRLS OF CENTRAL HIGH AT BASKETBALL Or The Great Gymnasium Mystery.
Here we have a number of thrilling contests at basketball and in addition, the solving of a mystery which had bothered the high school authorities for a long while,
THE GIRLS OF CENTRAL HIGH ON THE STAGE Or The Play That Took the Prize.
How the girls went In for theatricals and how one of them wrote a play which afterward was made over for the professional stage and brought in some much-needed money.
THE GIRLS OF CENTRAL HIGH ON TRACK AND FIELD Or The Girl Champions of the School League
This story takes in high school athletics In their most approved and up-to-date fashion. Full of fun and excitement.
THE GIRLS OF CENTRAL HIGH IN CAMP
Or The Old Professor’s Secret
The girls went camping on Acorn Island and had a delightful time at boating, swimming and picnic parties.
THE BOYS OF COLUMBIA HIGH SERIES
By GRAHAM B. FORBES
Never was there a cleaner, brighter, more manly boy than Frank Allen, the hero of this series of boys’ tales, and never was there a better crowd of lads to associate with than the students of the School. All boys will read these stories with deep interest. The rivalry between the towns along the river was of the keenest, and plots and counterplot to win the champions, at baseball, at football, at boat racing, at track athletics, and at ice hockey, were without number. Any lad reading one volume of this series will surely want the others.
THE BOYS OF COLUMBIA HIGH
Or The All Around Rivals of the School
THE BOYS OF COLUMBIA HIGH ON THE DIAMOND Or Winning Out by Pluck
THE BOYS OF COLUMBIA HIGH ON THE RIVER Or The Boat Race Plot that Failed
THE BOYS OF COLUMBIA HIGH ON THE GRIDIRON Or The Struggle for the Silver Cup
THE BOYS OF COLUMBIA HIGH ON THE ICE
Or Out for the Hockey Championship
THE BOYS OF COLUMBIA HIGH IN TRACK ATHLETICS Or A Long Run that Won
THE BOYS OF COLUMBIA HIGH IN WINTER SPORTS Or Stirring Doings on Skates and Iceboats
I2mo. Illustrated. Handsomely bound In cloth, with cover design and wrappers in color.
THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS SERIES
By VICTOR APPLETON
l2mo. BOUND IN CLOTH. ILLUSTRATED. UNIFORM STYLE OF BINDING.
Moving pictures and photo plays are famous the world over, and in this line of books the reader is given a full description of how the films are made–the scenes of little dramas, indoors and out, trick pictures to satisfy the curious, soul-stirring pictures of city affairs, life in the Wild West, among the cowboys and Indians, thrilling rescues along the seacoast, the daring of picture hunters in the jungle among savage beasts, and the great risks run in picturing conditions in a land of earthquakes. The volumes teem with adventures and will be found interesting from first chapter to last.
THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS
Or Perils of a Great City Depicted.
THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE WEST
Or Taking Scenes Among the Cowboys and Indians.
THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS ON THE COAST
Or Showing the Perils of the Deep.
THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLE Or Stirring Times Among the Wild Animals.
THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN EARTHQUAKE LAND Or Working Amid Many Perils.
THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS AND THE FLOOD Or Perilous Days on the Mississippi.
THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMA
Or Stirring Adventures Along the Great Canal.
THE MOVING PICTURE BOYS UNDER THE SEA Or The Treasure of the Lost Ship.
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS SERIES
By LAURA LEE HOPE
Author of the “Bobbsey Twin Books” and “Bunny Brown” Series.
These tales take in the various adventures participated in by several bright, up-to-date girls who love outdoor life. They are clean and wholesome, free from sensationalism, absorbing from the first chapter to the last.
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS OF DEEPDALE
Or Camping and Tramping for Fun and Health.
Telling bow the girls organized their Camping and Tramping Club, how they went on a tour, and of various adventures which befell them.
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT RAINBOW LAKE
Or Stirring Cruise of the Motor Boat Gem.
One of the girls becomes the proud possessor of a motor boat and invites her club members to take a trip down the river to Rainbow Lake, a beautiful sheet of water lying between the mountains.
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN A MOTOR CAR
Or The Haunted Mansion of Shadow Valley.
One of the girls has learned to run a big motor ear, and she invited the club to go on a tour to visit some distant relatives. On the way they stop at a deserted mansion and make a surprising discovery.
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN A WINTER CAMP
Or Glorious Days on Skates and Ice Boats.
In this story, the scene is shifted to a winter season. The girls have some jolly times skating and ice boating, and visit a hunters ramp in the big woods.
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN FLORIDA,
Or Wintering in the Sunny South.
The parents of one of the girls have bought an orange grove in Florida, and her companions are invited to visit the place. They take a trip into the interior, where several unusual things happen.
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT OCEAN VIEW
Or The Box that Was Found in the Sand.
The girls have great fun and solve a mystery while on an outing along the New England coast.
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS ON PINE ISLAND
Or A Cave and What it Contained.
A bright, healthful story, full of good times at a bungalow camp on Pine Island.
CHARMING BOOKS FOR GIRLS
WHEN PATTY WENT TO COLLEGE, By Jean Webster. Illustrated by C. D. Williams.
One of the best stories of life in a girl’s college that has ever been written. It is bright, whimsical and entertaining, lifelike, laughable and thoroughly human.
JUST PATTY, By Jean Webster.
Illustrated by C. M. Relyea.
Patty is full of the joy of living, fun-loving, given to ingenious mischief for its own sake, with a disregard for pretty convention which is an unfailing source of joy to her fellows.
THE POOR LITTLE RICH GIRL, By Eleanor Gates. With four full page illustrations.
This story relates the experience of one of those unfortunate children whose early days are passed in the companionship of a governess, seldom seeing either parent, and famishing for natural love and tenderness. A charming play as dramatized by the author.
REBECCA OF SUNNYBROOK FARM, By Kate Douglas Wiggin.
One of the most beautiful studies of childhood–Rebecca’s artistic, unusual and quaintly charming qualities stand out midst a circle of austere New Englanders. The stage version is making a