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Title: Tom Swift in Captivity

Author: Victor Appleton

Release Date: November, 2003 [eBook #4608]

[Posted: February 17, 2002]







PGCC Collection: Tom Swift in Captivity, by Victor Appleton
eBook File: 13tom10.htm or 13tom10.pdf

Corrected EDITIONS, 13tom11.htm
Separate source VERSION, 13tom10a.htm







TOM SWIFT IN CAPTIVITY

OR

A Daring Escape by Airship

BY VICTOR APPLETON

AUTHOR OF "TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR-CYCLE," "TOM SWIFT AND HIS
WIRELESS MESSAGE," "TOM SWIFT IN THE CITY OF GOLD," ETC.

ILLUSTRATED






CONTENTS


    I   A STRANGE REQUEST
   II   THE CIRCUS MAN
  III   TOM WILL GO
   IV   "LOOK OUT FOR MY RIVAL!"
    V   ANDY FOGER LEARNS SOMETHING
   VI   ALARMING NEWS
  VII   FIRE ON BOARD
 VIII   A NARROW ESCAPE
   IX   "FORWARD MARCH!"
    X   A WILD HORSE STAMPEDE
   XI   CAUGHT IN A LIVING ROPE
  XII   A NATIVE BATTLE
 XIII   THE DESERTION
  XIV   IN GIANT LAND
   XV   IN THE "PALACE" OF THE KING
  XVI   THE RIVAL CIRCUS MAN
 XVII   HELD CAPTIVES
XVIII   TOM'S MYSTERIOUS BOX
  XIX   WEAK GIANTS
   XX   THE LONE CAPTIVE
  XXI   A ROYAL CONSPIRACY
 XXII   THE TWIN GIANTS
XXIII   A SURPRISE IN THE NIGHT
 XXIV   THE AIRSHIP FLIGHT
  XXV   TOM'S GIANT--CONCLUSION




CHAPTER I

A STRANGE REQUEST


Tom Swift closed the book of adventures he had been reading, tossed
it on the table, and got up. Then he yawned.

"What's the matter?" asked his chum, Ned Newton, who was deep in
another volume.

"Oh, I thought this was going to be something exciting," replied
Tom, motioning toward the book he had discarded. "But say! the make-
believe adventures that fellow had, weren't anything compared to
those we went through in the city of gold, or while rescuing the
exiles of Siberia."

"Well," remarked Ned, "they would have to be pretty classy
adventures to lay over those you and I have had lately. But where
are you going?" he continued, for Tom had taken his cap and started
for the door.

"I thought I'd go out and take a little run in the aeroplane. Want
to come along? It's more fun than sitting in the house reading about
exciting things that never have happened. Come on out and--"

"Yes, and have a tumble from the aeroplane, I suppose you were going
to say," interrupted Ned with a laugh. "Not much! I'm going to stay
here and finish this book."

"Say," demanded Tom indignantly. "Did you ever know me to have a
tumble since I knew how to run an airship?"

"No, I can't say that I did. I was only joking."

"Then you carried the joke too far, as the policeman said to the man
he found lugging off money from the bank. And to make up for it
you've got to come along with me."

"Where are you going?"

"Oh, anywhere. Just to take a little run in the upper regions, and
clear some of the cobwebs out of my head. I declare, I guess I've
got the spring fever. I haven't done anything since we got back from
Russia last fall, and I'm getting rusty."

"You haven't done ANYTHING!" exclaimed Ned, following his chum's
example by tossing aside the book. "Do you call working on your new
invention of a noiseless airship nothing?"

"Well, I haven't finished that yet. I'm tired of inventing things. I
just want to go off, and have some good fun, like getting
shipwrecked on a desert island, or being lost in the mountains, or
something like that. I want action. I want to get off in the jungle,
and fight wild beasts, and escape from the savages!"

"Say! you don't want much," commented Ned. "But I feel the same way,
Tom."

"Then come on out and take a run, and maybe we'll get on the track
of an adventure," urged the young inventor. "We won't go far, just
twenty or thirty miles or so."

The two youths emerged from the house and started across the big
lawn toward the aeroplane sheds, for Tom Swift owned several speedy
aircrafts, from a big combined aeroplane and dirigible balloon, to a
little monoplane not much larger than a big bird, but which was the
most rapid flier that ever breathed the fumes of gasolene.

"Which one you going to take, Tom?" asked Ned, as his chum paused in
front of the row of hangars.

"Oh, the little double-seated monoplane, I guess that's in good
shape, and it's easy to manage. When I'm out for fun I hate to be
tinkering with levers and warping wing tips all the while. The Lark
practically flies herself, and we can sit back and take it easy.
I'll have Eradicate fill up the gasolene tank, while I look at the
magneto. It needs a little adjusting, though it works nearly to
perfection since I put in some of that new platinum we got from the
lost mine in Siberia."

"Yes, that was a trip that amounted to something. I wouldn't mind
going on another like that, though we ran lots of risks."

"We sure did," agreed Tom, and then, raising his voice he called
out: "Rad, I say Rad! Where are you? I want you!"

"Comin', massa Tom, comin'," answered an aged colored man, as he
shuffled around the corner of the shed. "What do yo'-all want ob
me?"

"Put some gasolene in the Lark, Rad. Ned and I are going to take a
little flight. What were you doing?"

"Jest groomin' mah mule Boomerang, Massa Tom, dat's all. Po'
Boomerang he's gittin' old jest same laik I be. He's gittin' old,
an' he needs lots ob 'tention. He has t' hab mo' oats dan usual,
Massa Tom, an' he doan't feel 'em laik he uster, dat's a fac', Massa
Tom."

"Well, Rad, give him all he wants. Boomerang was a good mule in his
day."

"An' he's good yet, Massa Tom, he's good yet!" said Eradicate
Sampson eagerly. "Doan't yo' all forgit dat, Massa Tom." And the
colored man proceeded to fill the gasolene tank, while Tom adjusted
the electrical mechanism of his aeroplane, Ned assisting by handing
him the tools needed. Eradicate, who said he was named that because
he "eradicated" dirt, was a colored man of all work, who had been in
the service of the Swift household for several years. He and his
mule Boomerang were fixtures.

"There, I guess that will do," remarked Tom, after testing the
magneto, and finding that it gave a fat, hot spark. "That ought to
send us along in good shape. Got all the gas in, Rad?"

"Every drop, Massa Tom."

"Then catch hold and help wheel the Lark out. Ned, you steady her on
that side. How are the tires? Do they need pumping up?"

"Hard as rocks," answered Tom's chum, as he tapped his toe against
the rubber circlets of the small bicycle wheels on which the
aeroplane rested.

"Then they'll do, I guess. Come on now, and we'll give her a test
before we start off. I ought to get a few hundred more revolutions
per minute out of the motor with the way I've adjusted the magneto.
Rad, you and Ned hold back, while I turn the engine over."

The youth and the colored man grasped the rear supports of the long,
tail-like part of the monoplane while Tom stepped to the front to
twist the propeller blades. The first two times there was no
explosion as he swung the delicate wooden blades about, but the
third time the engine started off with a roar, and a succession of
explosions that were deafening, until Tom switched in the muffler,
thereby cutting down the noise. Faster and faster the propeller
whirled about as the motor warmed up, until the young inventor
exclaimed:

"That's the stuff! She's better than ever! Climb up Ned, and we'll
start off. You can turn her over, Rad; can't you?"

"Suah, Massa Tom," was the reply, for Eradicate had been on so many
trips with Tom, and had had so much to do with airships, that to
merely start one was child's play for him.

The two youths had scarcely taken their seats, and the colored man
was about to twist around the fan-like blades of the big propeller
in front, when from behind there came a hail.

"Hold on there! Wait a minute, Tom Swift! Bless my admission ticket,
don't go! I've got something important to tell you! Hold on!"

"Humph! I know who that is!" cried Tom, motioning to Eradicate to
cease trying to start the motor.

"Mr. Damon, of course," agreed Ned. "I wonder what he wants?"

"A ride, maybe," went on Tom. "If he does we've got to take the
Scooter instead of this one. That holds four. Well, we may as well
see what he wants."

He jumped lightly from his seat in the monoplane and was followed by
Ned. They saw coming toward them, from the direction of the house, a
stout man, who seemed very much excited. He was walking so fast that
he fairly waddled, and he was smiling at the lads, for he was one of
their best friends.

"Glad I caught you, Tom." he panted, for his haste had almost
deprived him of breath. "I've got something important to tell you. I
hurried over as soon as I heard about it."

"Well, you're just in time," commented Ned with a laugh. "In another
minute we'd have been up in the clouds."

"What is it, Mr. Damon?" asked Tom. "Have you got wind of a city of
diamonds, or has some one sent you a map telling where we can go to
pick up ten thousand dollar bills by the basket?"

"Neither one; Tom, neither one. It's something better than either of
those, and if you don't jump at the chance I'm mistaken in you,
that's all I've got to say. Come over here."

He turned a quick glance over his shoulder as he spoke and advanced
toward the two lads on tiptoe as though he feared some one would see
or hear him. Yet it was broad daylight, the place was the starting
ground for Tom's aeroplanes and save Eradicate there was no one
present except Mr. Damon, Ned and the young inventor himself.

"What's up?" asked Tom in wonderment.

"Hush!" cautioned the odd gentleman. "Bless my walking stick, Tom!
but this is going to be a great chance for you--for us,--for I'm
going along."

"Going where, Mr. Damon?"

"I'll tell you in a minute. Is there any one here?"

"No one but us?"

"You are sure that Andy Foger isn't around."

"Sure. He's out of town, you know."

"Yes, but you never can tell when he's going to appear on the scene.
Come over here," and taking hold of the coat of each of the youths,
Mr. Damon led them behind the big swinging door of the aeroplane
shed.

"You haven't anything on hand; have you, Tom?" asked the odd
gentleman, after peering through the crack to make sure they were
unobserved.

"Nothing at all, if you mean in the line of going off on an
adventure trip."

"That's what I mean. Bless my earlaps! but I'm glad of that. I've
got just the thing for you. Tom, I want you to go to a strange land,
and bring back one of the biggest men there--a giant! Tom Swift, you
and I and Ned--if he wants to go--are going after a giant!"

Mr. Damon gleefully clapped Tom on the back, with such vigor that
our hero coughed, and then the odd gentleman stepped back and gazed
at the two lads, a look of triumph shining in his eyes.

For a moment there was a silence. Tom looked at Ned, and Ned gave
his chum a quick glance. Then they both looked sharply at Mr. Damon.

"A--a giant," murmured Tom faintly.

"That's what I said," replied Mr. Damon. "I want you to help me
capture a giant, Tom."

Once more the two youths exchanged significant glances, and then
Tom, in a low and gentle voice said:

"Yes, Mr. Damon, that's all right. We'll get you a giant right away.
Won't we, Ned? Now you'd better come in the house and lie down, I'll
have Mrs. Baggert make you a cup of tea, and after you have had a
sleep you'll feel better. Come on," and the young inventor gently
tried to lead his friend out from behind the shed door.

"Look here, Tom Swift!" exclaimed the odd gentleman indignantly. "Do
you think I'm crazy? Lie down? Rest myself? Go to sleep? Say, I'm
not crazy! I'm not tired! I'm not sleepy! This is the greatest
chance you ever had, and if we get one of those giants--"

"Yes, yes, we'll get one," put in Ned soothingly.

"Of course," added Tom. "Come on, now, Mr. Damon. You'll feel better
after you've had a rest. Dr. Perkinby is coming over to see father
and I'll have him--"

Mr. Damon gave one startled glance at the young inventor and his
chum, and then burst into a peal of hearty laughter.

"Oh, my!" he exclaimed at intervals in his pyroxisms. "Oh, dear! He
thinks I'm out of my head! He can't stand that talk about giants! Oh
dear! Tom Swift, this is the greatest chance you ever had! Come on
in the house and I'll tell you all I know about giant land, and then
if you want to think I'm crazy you can, that's all I've got to say!"




CHAPTER II

THE CIRCUS MAN


Without a word Tom and Ned followed Mr. Damon toward the Swift
house. Truth to tell the youths did not know what to say, or they
would have been bubbling over with questions. But the talk of the
odd man, and his strange request to Tom to go off and capture a
giant had so startled the young inventor and his chum that they did
not know whether to think that Mr. Damon was joking, or whether he
had suddenly taken leave of his senses.

And while I have a few minutes that are occupied in the journey to
the house I will introduce my new readers more formally to Tom Swift
and his friends.

Tom though only a young man, was an inventor of note, as his father
was before him. Father and son lived in a fine house in the town of
Shopton, in New York state, and Mrs. Swift being dead, the two were
well looked after by Mrs. Baggert their housekeeper. Eradicate
Sampson, as I have said, was the man of all work about the place.
Ned Newton who had a position in a Shopton bank, was Tom's
particular chum, and Mr. Wakefeld Damon, of the neighboring town of
Waterfield, was a friend to all who knew him. He had the odd habit
of blessing anything and everything he could think of, interspersing
it in his talk.

In the first volume of this series, called "Tom Swift and His Motor-
Cycle," I related how Tom made the acquaintance of Mr. Damon,
afterward purchasing a damaged motor-cycle from the odd gentleman.
On this machine Tom had many adventures, incidentally saving some of
his father's valuable patents from a gang of conspirators. Later Tom
got a motor boat, and had many races with his rivals on Lake
Carlopa, beating Andy Foger, the red-haired bully of the town, in
signal fashion. After his adventures on the water Tom sighed for
some in the air, and he had them in his airship the Red Cloud.

"Tom Swift and His Submarine Boat." is a story of a search after
sunken treasure, and, returning from that quest Tom built an
electric runabout, the speedest car on the road. By means of a
wireless message, later, Tom was able to save himself and the
castaways of Earthquake Island, and, as a direct outcome of that
experience, he was able to go in search of the diamond makers, and
solve the secret of Phantom Mountain, as told in the book dealing
with that subject.

When he went to the caves of ice Tom had bad luck, for his airship
was wrecked, and he endured many hardships in getting home with his
companions, particularly as Andy Foger sought revenge on him.

But Tom pluckily overcame all obstacles and, later, he built a sky
racer, in which he made the quickest trip on record. After that,
with his electric rifle, he went after elephants in the interior of
Africa and was successful in rescuing some missionaries from the
terrible red pygmies.

One of the mission workers, later, sent Tom details about a buried
city of gold in Mexico, and Tom and his chum together with Mr. Damon
located this mysterious place after much trouble, as told in the
book entitled, "Tom Swift in the City of Gold." The gold did not
prove as valuable as they expected, as it was of low grade, but they
got considerable money for it, and were then ready for more
adventures.

The adventures soon came, as those of you who have read the book
called, "Tom Swift and His Air Glider," can testify. In that I told
how Tom went to Siberia, and after rescuing some Russian political
exiles, found a valuable deposit of platinum, which to-day is a more
valuable metal than gold. Tom needed some platinum for his
electrical machines, and it proved very useful.

He had been back from Russia all winter and, now that Spring had
come again, our hero sighed for more activity, and fresh adventures.
And with the advent of Mr. Damon, and his mysterious talk about
giants, Tom seemed likely to be gratified.

The two chums and the odd gentleman continued on to the house, no
one speaking, until finally, when they were seated in the library,
Mr. Damon said:

"Well, Tom, are you ready to listen to me now, and have me explain
what I meant when I asked you to get a giant?"

"I--I suppose so," hesitated the young inventor. "But hadn't I
better call dad? And are you sure you don't want to lie down and
collect your thoughts? A nice hot cup of tea--"

"There, there, Tom Swift; If you tell me to lie down again, or
propose any more tea I'll use you as a punching bag, bless my boxing
gloves if I don't!" cried Mr. Damon and he laughed heartily. "I know
what you think, Tom, and you, too, Ned," he went on, still
chuckling. "You think I don't know what I'm saying, but I'll soon
prove that I do. I'm fully in my senses, I'm not crazy, I'm not
talking in my sleep, and I'm very much in earnest. Tom, this is the
chance of your life to get a giant, and pay a visit to giant land.
Will you take it?"

"Mr. Damon, I--er--that is I--"

Tom stammered and looked at Ned.

"Now look here, Tom Swift!" exclaimed the odd man. "When you got
word about the buried city of gold in Mexico you didn't hesitate a
minute about making up your mind to go there; did you?"

"No, I didn't."

"Well, that wasn't any more of a strain on your imagination than
this giant business; was it?"

"Well, I don't know, as--"

"Bless my spectacles! Of course it wasn't! Now, look here. Tom, you
just make up your mind that I know what I'm talking about, and we'll
get along better. I don't blame you for being a bit puzzled at
first, but just you listen. You believe there are such things as
giants; don't you?"

"I saw a man in the circus once, seven feet high. They called him a
giant," spoke Ned.

"A giant! He was a baby compared to the kind of giants I mean," said
Mr. Damon quickly. "Tom, we are going after a race of giants, the
smallest one of which is probably eight feet high, and from that
they go on up to nearly ten feet, and they're not slim fellows
either, but big in proportion. Now in giant land--"

"Here's Mrs. Baggert with a quieting cup of tea," interrupted Tom.
"I spoke to her as we came in, and asked her to have some ready. If
you'll drink this, Mr. Damon, I'm sure--"

"Bless my sugar bowl, Tom! You make a man nervous, with your cups of
tea. I'm more quiet than you, but I'll drink it to please you. Now
listen to me."

"All right, go ahead."

"A friend of mine has asked me if I knew any one who could undertake
to go to giant land, and get him one or two specimens of the big men
there. I at once thought of you, and I said I believed you would go.
And I'll go with you, Tom! Think of that! I've got faith enough in
the proposition to go myself!"

There was no mistaking Mr. Damon's manner. He was very much in
earnest, and Tom and Ned looked at each other with a different light
in their eyes.

"Who is your friend, and where in the world is giant land?" asked
Tom. "I haven't heard of such a place since I read the accounts of
the early travelers, before this continent was discovered. Who is
your friend that wants a giant?"

"If you'll let me, I'll have him here in a minute, Tom."

"Of course I will. But good land! Have you got him concealed up your
sleeve, or under some of the chairs? Is he a dwarf?" and Tom looked
about the room as if he expected to see some one in hiding.

"I left him outside in the garden, Tom," replied the odd man. "I
told him I'd come on ahead, and see how you took the proposition.
Don't tell him you thought me insane at first. I'll have him here in
a jiffy. I'll signal to him."

Not waiting for a word from either of the boys, Mr. Damon went to
one of the low library windows, opened it, gave a shrill whistle and
waved his handkerchief vigorously. In a moment there came an
answering whistle.

"He's coming," announced the odd gentleman.

"But who is he?" insisted Tom. "Is he some professor who wants a
giant to examine, or is he a millionaire who wants one for a body
guard?"

"Neither one, Tom. He's the proprietor of a number of circuses, and
a string of museums, and he wants a giant, or even two of them, for
exhibition purposes. There's lots of money in giants. He's had some
seven, and even eight feet tall, but he has lately heard of a land
where the tallest man is nearly ten feet high, and very big, and
he'll pay ten thousand dollars for a giant alive and in good
condition, as the animal men say. I believe we can get one for him,
and--Ah, here he is now," and Mr. Damon interrupted himself as a
small, dark-complexioned man, with a very black mustache, black
eyes, a watch chain as big around as his thumb, a red vest, a large
white hat, and a suit of large-sized checked clothes appeared at the
open library window.

"Is it all right?" this strange-appearing man asked of Mr. Damon.

"I believe so," replied the odd gentleman. "Come in, Sam."

With one bound, though the window was some distance from the ground,
the little man leaped into the library. He landed lightly on his
feet, quickly turned two hand springs in rapid succession, and then,
without breathing in the least rapidly, as most men would have done
after that exertion, he made a low bow to Tom and Ned.

"Boys, let me introduce you to my friend, Sam Preston, an old
acrobat and now a circus proprietor," said Mr. Damon. "Mr. Preston,
this is Tom Swift, of whom I told you, and his chum, Ned Newton."

"And will they get the giant for me?" asked the circus man quickly.

"I think they will," replied Mr. Damon. "I had a little difficulty
in making the matter clear to them, and that's why I sent for you.
You can explain everything."

"Have a chair," invited Tom politely. "This is a new one on me--
going after giants. I've done almost everything else, though."

"So Mr. Damon said," spoke Mr. Preston gravely. He was much more
sedate and composed than one would have supposed after his
sensational entrance into the room. "I am very glad to meet you, Tom
Swift, and I hope we can do business together. Now, if you have a
few minutes to spare, I'll tell you all I know about giant land."




CHAPTER III

TOM WILL GO


"Jove! That sounds interesting!" exclaimed Ned, as he settled
himself comfortably in his chair.

"It is interesting," replied the circus man. "At least I found it so
when I first listened to one of my men tell it. But whether it is
possible to get to giant land, and, what is more bring away some of
the big men, is something I leave to you, Tom Swift. After you have
heard my story, if you decide to go, I'll stand all the expenses of
fitting out an expedition, and if you fail I won't have a word to
say. If, on the other hand, you bring me back a giant or two, I'll
pay you ten thousand dollars and all expenses. Is it a bargain?"

"Let me hear the story first," suggested our hero, who was a
cautious lad when there was need for it. Yet he liked Mr. Preston,
even at first sight, in spite of his "loud" attire, and the rather
"circusy" manner in which he had entered the room. Then too, if he
was a friend of Mr. Damon, that was a great deal in his favor.

"I am, as you know, in the circus business," began Mr. Preston. "I
have a number of traveling shows, and several large museums in the
big cities. I am always on the lookout for new attractions, for the
public demands them. Once get in the rut of having nothing new, and
your business will fall off. I know, for I've been in the business,
man and boy, for nearly forty years. I began as a performer, and I
can still do a double somersault over fifteen elephants in a row. I
always keep in practice for there's nothing like showing a performer
how to do a thing yourself."

"But about the giants, which is what I'm interested in most now. Of
course I've had giants in my circuses and museums, from the
beginning. The public wanted 'em and we had to have 'em. Some of 'em
were fakes--men on stilts with long pants to cover up their legs,
and others were the real, genuine, all-wool-and-a-yard-wide article.
But none of them were very big. A shade under eight feet was the
limit with me."

"I also have lots of wild animals, and it was when some of my men
were out after some tapirs, jaguars and leopards that I got on the
track of the giants. It was about a year ago, but up to this time I
haven't seen my way clear to send after the big men. It was this
way:"

Mr. Preston assumed a more comfortable position in his chair, nodded
at Mr. Damon, who was listening attentively to all that was said,
and resumed.

"As I said I had sent Jake Poddington, one of my best men, after
tapirs and some other South American animals. He didn't have very
good luck hunting along the Amazon. In the first place that region
has been pretty well cleaned out of circus animals, and another
thing it's getting too well populated. Another thing is that you
can't get the native hunters and beaters to work for you as they did
years ago."

"So Poddington wrote to me that he was going to take his assistants,
make a big jump, and hike it for the Argentine Republic. He had a
tip that along the Salado river there might be something doing, and
I told him to go ahead."

"He shipped me what few animals he had, and lit out for a three
thousand mile journey. I didn't hear from him for some time, and,
when I did, I got the finest collection of animals I had ever laid
eyes on. I got them about the same time I did a letter from Jake,
for the mail service ain't what you could call rushing in that part
of South America."

"But what about the giants?" interrupted Mr. Damon.

"I'm coming to them," replied the circus man calmly. "It was this
way: At the tail of his letter which he sent with the shipment of
animals Jake said this, and I remember it almost word for word:"

"'If all goes well,' he wrote, 'I'll have a big surprise for you
soon. I've heard a story about a race of big natives that have their
stamping ground in this section, and I'm going to try for a few
specimens. I know how much you want a giant.'"

"Well?" asked Tom, after a pause, for the circus man had ceased
talking and was staring out of the opened library window into the
garden that was just becoming green.

"That was all I ever heard from poor Jake," said Mr. Preston softly.

"Bless my insurance policy!" gasped Mr. Damon. "You didn't tell me
that! What happened to him."

"I never could find out," resumed Mr. Preston. "I never heard
another word from him, and I've never seen him from the time I
parted with him to go after the animals. The letter saying he was
going after the giants was the last line of his I've seen."

"But didn't you try to locate him?" asked Tom. "Didn't he have some
companions--some one who could tell what became of him?"

"Of course I tried!" exclaimed Mr. Preston. "Do you think I'd let a
man like Jake disappear without making some effort to find him? But
he was the only white man in his party, the rest were natives. That
was Jake's way. Well, when some time past and I didn't hear from
him, I got busy. I wrote to our consuls and even some South American
merchants with whom I had done business. But it didn't amount to
anything."

"Couldn't you get any news?" asked Ned softly.

"Oh, yes, some, but it didn't amount to much. After a long time, and
no end of trouble, I had a man locate a native named Zacatas, who
was the head beater of the black men under Jake."

"Zacatas said that he and Jake and the others got safely to the
Salado river section, but I knew that before, for that was where the
fine shipment of animals came from. Then Jake got that tip about the
giants, and set off alone into the interior to locate them, for all
the natives were afraid to go. That was the last seen of poor Jake."

"Bless my fire shovel!" cried Mr. Damon. "What did Zacatas say
became of the poor fellow?"

"No one knew. Whether he reached giant land and was killed there, or
whether he was struck down by some wild beast in the jungle, I never
could find out. The natives under Zacatas waited in camp for him for
some time, and then went back to the Amazon region where they
belonged. That's all the news I could get."

"But I'm sure there are giants in the interior of South America, for
Jake always knew what he was talking about. Now I want to do two
things. I want to get on the trail of poor Jake Poddington if I can,
and I want a giant--two or three of them if it can be managed."

"Ever since Jake disappeared I've been trying to arrange things to
make a search for him, and for the giants, but up to now something
has been in the way. I happened to mention the matter to my friend,
Mr. Damon, and he at once spoke of you, Tom Swift."

"Now, what I want to know is this: Will you undertake to get a giant
for me, rescue Jake Poddington if he is alive in the interior of
South America, or, if he is dead, find out how it happened and give
him decent burial? Will you do this, Tom Swift?"

There was a silence in the room following the dramatic and simple
recital of the circus man. Tom was strangely moved, as was his chum
Ned As for Mr. Damon, he was softly blessing every thing he could
think of.

Tom looked out of the long, opened windows of the library. In fancy
he could see the forest and jungles of South America. He saw a
sluggish river flowing along between rank green banks, while, from
the overhanging trees, long festoons of moss hung down, writhing now
and then as the big water anacondas or boa constrictors looped their
sinuous folds over the low limbs.

In fancy he saw dark-skinned natives slinking along with their
deadly blow guns, and poisoned arrows. He thought he could hear the
low growls and whines of the treacherous jaguars and see their lithe
bodies slinking along. He saw the brilliant-hued flowers, saw the
birds of gorgeous plumage, and listened in fancy to their discordant
cries.

Then, too, he saw a lonely white man in a miserable native hut
thousands of miles from civilization, waiting, waiting, waiting for
he knew not what fate. Again he saw monstrous men stalking along--
men who towered ten feet or more, and who were big and brawny. All
this passed through the mind of Tom in an instant.

"Well?" asked Mr. Preston softly.

"I'll go!" suddenly cried the young inventor. "I don't know whether
I can get you a giant or not, Mr. Preston, but if it's possible I'll
get poor Jake Poddington, dead or alive!"

"Good!" cried the circus man, jumping up and clasping Tom's hand. "I
thought you were that kind of a lad, after I heard Mr. Damon
describe you. You've taken a big load off my heart, Tom Swift. Now
to talk of ways and means! I'll have a giant yet, and maybe I'll get
back the best man who ever shipped a consignment of wild animals,
good Jake Poddington! Now to business!"




CHAPTER IV

"LOOK OUT FOR MY RIVAL!"


"You'll go in an airship of course; won't you, Tom?" asked Mr.
Damon, when they had pulled their chairs up around a library table,
and Mr. Preston had taken some papers from his pocket.

"An airship? No, I don't believe I shall," replied the young
inventor. "In the first place, I'm a bit tired of scooting through
the air so much, though it isn't to be denied that it's the quickest
way of going. But in South America there are so many jungles that it
will be hard to find a level starting ground for a take-off, after
we land. Of course we could go up as a balloon, but this expedition
is going to be different from any we were ever on before."

"How so?" asked Ned.

"Well, in the first place we've got to start at one end of a trail,
and make careful inquiries all along the way. It isn't like when we
went for the city of gold. There we had to look for a certain ruined
temple, which was the landmark. When we went after the platinum in
Siberia we had to look for the place of the high winds, so I could
use my air glider. But now we're trying to locate a man who traveled
on foot through the jungles, and if we went in an airship we might
just miss the connecting link."

"So, I think the best way will be to do just as Mr. Poddington did--
travel on foot or by horses and mules, and go slowly, making
inquiries from time to time. Then we MAY get to giant land, we MAY
find him."

"I don't hope for all that," said the circus man, "but if you can
only get some news of him it will be a relief. If he died peaceably
it would be better than to be a captive among some of those savage
tribes. It's been a year now since I heard the last of him. But I
agree with Tom that an airship won't be much good in the jungle. You
might take along a small one, if you could pack it, to scare the
natives with. In fact it might be a good thing to show to the
giants, if you find them."

"That is my idea," declared Tom. "I'll take the Lark with me. That's
a mighty powerful machine for its size, and it can be taken apart in
sections. It will carry three on a pinch, and I have had five in her
with two auxiliary seats. I'll take the Lark, and she may come in
handy."

"When can you start?" asked Mr. Preston.

"As soon as we can fit out an expedition," answered Tom. "It
oughtn't to take long. I don't have to build an air glider this
time. It won't take long to take the Lark apart. I haven't finished
work on my noiseless airship yet, but that can wait. Yes, we'll be
ready as soon as you want us to start, Mr. Preston."

"It can't be too soon for me. I'll deposit a certain sum in the bank
to your credit, Tom, and you can draw on it for expenses. I'll pay
any amount to get word of poor Jake, to say nothing of having a
giant for my circus. Now as to ways of getting there. Have you a
large map of South America?"

Tom had one, and he and the others were pouring over it when Tom's
father came into the room.

"Well, well!" he exclaimed. "What's this? What are you up to now,
Tom, my boy? Mrs. Baggert said you took down the South American map.
What's up?"

"Lots, dad? I'm going after giants this time!"

"Giants, Tom? Are you joking?"

"Not a bit of it, Mr. Swift," answered Mr. Damon. "Bless my check
book! I believe if some one wanted the moon Tom Swift would try to
get it for them."

Then Mr. Swift noticed the stranger present, and was introduced to
the circus man.

"Is it really true, Tom," asked the aged inventor, when the story
had been related, "are you going to have a try for giant land?"

"That's what I am, dad, and I wish you were going along."

"No, Tom, I'm getting too old for that. But I did hope you'd stay
home for a while, and help me work on my gyroscope invention. It is
almost completed."

"I will help you, dad, as soon as I get back with a giant or two.
Who knows? maybe I'll get one myself."

"What would you do with one?" asked Ned with a laugh.

"Have him help Eradicate," answered the young inventor. "Rad is
getting pretty old, and he needs an assistant."

"But are these giants black?" asked Mr. Swift.

"That's a point I don't know," answered the circus man frankly.
"Jake didn't say in his letter. They may be black, white or midway
between. That's what Tom has got to find out for us."

"And I'll do it!" exclaimed our hero. "Now let's see. I suppose the
best plan would be to take a ship right to the Rio de la Plata,
landing say at Buenos Ayres or Montevideo, and then organize an
expedition to strike into the interior."

"Why don't you do just as Mr. Poddington did?" asked Ned, "start
from the Amazon and work south?"

"It would take too long," declared Tom. "We know that the giants are
somewhere in the northern part of Argentina, or in Paraguay or
Uruguay. Or they may be on the other side of the Uruguay river in
Brazil. It's quite a stretch of territory, and we've got to take our
time exploring it. That's why I don't want to waste time working
down from the Amazon. We'll go right to Buenos Ayres, I think."

"That's what I'd do," advised the old circus man. "Now I can give
you some points on what to take, and how to act when you get there.
The South Americans are a queer people--very nice when treated
right, but very bad if not," and then he told some of his
experiences as a circus man in South America, for he had traveled
there.

"I'd go again, if my business didn't keep me here," he concluded,
"for I'd ask nothing better than to hunt for giant land, or try to
rescue poor Jake. But I can't. I'm depending on you, Tom Swift."

"What's that? Giant land?" exclaimed Mrs. Baggert, the motherly
housekeeper, as she came in to announce that dinner was ready. "You
don't mean to tell me, Tom, that you're going off again?"

"That's what I am, Mrs. Baggert. You'd better put me up a few
sandwiches, for I don't know when I'll be back," and Tom winked at
his chum.

"Oh, of all things I ever heard in all my born days!" cried the
housekeeper, throwing up her hands. "Will you ever settle down, Tom
Swift?"

"Maybe he will when Miss Mary Nestor is ready to settle down too,"
said Ned mischievously, referring to a girl of whom Tom was very
fond.

"Say, I'll fix you for that!" cried our hero, as he made an
unsuccessful grab for Ned. "But, Mrs. Baggert, can you put on a
couple of extra plates? Mr. Damon and Mr. Preston will stay to
lunch."

"Not if it's going to put you out, Tom," objected the circus man. "I
can go to the hotel, and--"

"No, indeed!" exclaimed Mrs. Baggert graciously, for she prided
herself on her housekeeping arrangements, and she used to say that
unexpected company never "flustrated" her. Soon the little party was
seated around the table, where the talk went from grave to gay, the
subject of the giants being uppermost.

Mr. Preston told many funny stories of his circus days, and some of
them had the spice of danger in them, for he had been all over the
world, either as a performer or as the owner of amusement
enterprises.

"Now, the next question to be settled," said the old circus man,
when they were once more gathered in the library, "is how many are
going?"

"I am, for one!" exclaimed Ned quickly. "I'm sure my folks will let
me. Especially as we aren't going to use an airship, but will travel
just as ordinary folks do."

"Except in case of emergency," explained Tom. "We'll have the Lark
to use if we need her."

"Oh, of course," agreed Ned. "How about you, Mr. Damon? Will you
go?"

The odd man looked around the room before replying, as though he
feared someone might be listening on the sly.

"Go on, Andy Foger isn't here," invited Tom with a laugh.

"I'll go--if I can pursuade my wife to let me," said the odd man in
a whisper, as if, even then, the good lady might overhear him. "I'm
not going to say anything about giants. I'll tell her we are going
to rescue a poor fellow from--er--well from the natives of South
America, and I'm sure she'll consent. Of course I'll go."

"That's three," remarked Tom. "I think I can get Eradicate to go. He
doesn't like airships, and when he knows we're not going in one it
will please him. Then he likes it hot, and I guess South America is
about as warm as they come. I am almost sure we can count on Rad."

"That will make a nice party," commented the circus man. "Now I'll
make out a list of the supplies you'd better take, and tell you what
to do about getting native helpers, and so on," and with that he
plunged into the midst of details that took up most of the remainder
of the day.

"Well, then I guess that settles most everything," remarked Tom,
several hours later. "I'll begin at once to take the Lark apart for
shipment, and begin ordering the things we need."

"Oh, there's one thing I almost forgot about," said Mr. Preston
suddenly. "Queer, how I should overlook that, too. I don't suppose
you mind a fight or two; do you?" he asked, looking sharply at Tom.

"Well, it all depends. We've had several fights on other
expeditions, though I can't say that I like 'em," replied the young
inventor. "Why do you ask?"

"Because you may have one--or several," was the answer of the circus
man. "You'll have to beware of my rival."

"Your rival?"

"Yes, the bitterest foe I have is a rival circus man named Wayland
Waydell. He, or some of his men, are always camping on my trail when
I send out after a new consignment of wild animals, and I shouldn't
be a bit surprised but what he'd try to get ahead of me on the giant
game."

"But how does he know you want giants?" asked Tom.

"Because news of circus expeditions always leaks out somehow or
other. I'm sure Waydell will learn that you are acting for me, and
so I warn you in time. In fact, he tried to get ahead of me when I
sent Jake Poddington out over a year ago, and I always had my
suspicions that he had a hand in Jake's disappearance, but maybe I'm
wrong. So that's what I mean when I say beware of Wayland Waydell,
Tom."

"I will!" exclaimed Tom. "He'll have to get up early to get ahead of
us." But Tom little knew the man against whom he was to pit himself
in the search for giants.




CHAPTER V

ANDY FOGER LEARNS SOMETHING


Once Tom Swift made up his mind to do a thing, he did not waste time
in setting about it. He had decided to go to giant land, and that
was all there was to it. His father talked with him about the
matter, pointed out the dangers, and suggested that, as the young
inventor had had many adventures in the last few years, and had made
considerable money from the discovery of the city of gold, and the
platinum mines, the prize offered for a giant was not much of an
inducement.

"But it isn't that so much, dad," explained Tom. "There's that poor
circus man, maybe suffering in the centre of South America. I want
to find him, if I can, or get some news that he died a natural
death, and is decently buried."

"You never can do it, Tom."

"Well dad, I'm going to make a big try!" he returned; and that
settled it as far as Tom was concerned.

For several days after the visit of Mr. Preston Tom was busy making
plans for his trip to South America. He wanted to lay out a regular
schedule before proceeding. Ned Newton had had hard work to persuade
his folks to let him go, but they finally consented, and as for Mr.
Damon, his plan was simple.

Without mentioning giants at all, he took Mr. Preston home with him,
and the circus man's tale of his assistant lost in the wilds of
South America was too much for Mrs. Damon.

"Go? Of course you'll go!" she said to her husband. "I demand that
you go, and I want you to find that poor man and rescue him. If you
could rescue the exiles from uncivilized Siberia I'm sure you can
get a man out of a civilized country."

Mr. Damon did not stop to point out that South America was far less
civilized, in some ways, than was Russia. He just kept still, and
made his preparations to go. Mr. Preston was a distant relative of
the odd man, and that was how he had happened to meet him and hear
the story which was destined to play such an important part in the
life of Tom Swift.

"Do you think we'll have much trouble after we get to South America,
and strike into the interior?" asked Mr. Damon one afternoon, when
he and Mr. Preston were helping Tom in the delicate work of packing
the wing planes of the Lark.

"No, South America isn't a bad country to travel in," replied the
circus man. "The natives are fairly friendly, and with a well-
organized party, and plenty of money, which I shall see that you
have, you ought to get along swimmingly. Only one thing bothers me."

"What's that?" asked Tom quickly.

"That's my rival, Waydell. He's sure to make trouble if he gets on
your trail."

"Have you heard from him?"

"No, and that's what makes me all the more suspicious. If he'd come
out and fight me in the open it wouldn't be so bad. But this
underhand business gets on my nerves. I don't know what he's up to."

"Maybe he isn't up to anything," suggested Ned. "He may not even
know you are going to make another try for the giants."

"Oh, yes, he does," replied the circus man. "He didn't succeed in
beating me when poor Jake was after them, for the simple reason that
it was a snap case, and even I didn't know that Poddington was
trying for the giants until he had started. But Waydell was soon
after him, and he knows that when I once set out for a freak or a
certain kind of animal I keep on until I get it. So he has probably
already figured out that I'm making new plans to get a giant."

"But how will he know that I am going?" inquired Tom.

"I don't know how he will know, but he will. We circus men have
queer ways of finding out things. I shouldn't be a bit surprised but
what he was already plotting and scheming to send an expedition on
my trail, to take advantage of anything you may learn."

"Well, we'll try and fool him, the same as we did the Mexicans when
we hunted for the city of gold," spoke Tom; and then putting aside
that worry, he and the others labored hard to get matters in shape
for a departure to South America.

"I suppose Eradicate is going," remarked Ned, in the intervals of
packing the aeroplane.

"Well, I've hinted it to him," replied Tom, "but I haven't asked him
outright. He said he wouldn't mind going to a hot country though.
Here he comes now. Guess I'll see how he takes it."

The colored man shuffled up with a hammer and nails, for he had been
putting covers on packing boxes.

"Then you are coming with us to South America; aren't you, Rad?"
asked Tom, winking at Ned.

"Souf America? Am dat de hot country yo'-all was referencin' to?"
asked Eradicate.

"That's it, Rad. It's nice and warm there. All you have to do is to
lie under a tree and cocoanuts will drop off into your mouth."

"Cocoanuts in mah mouf, Massa Tom! 'Scuse me! I doan't want t' go to
no sich country as dat. Cocoanuts in mah mouf! Why I ain't got but a
few teef left, an' a cocoanut droppin' offen a tree would shorely
knock dem teef out, shorely!"

"Oh, Rad, I didn't mean cocoanuts! I meant oranges and bananas--
they're soft," and Tom glanced quickly at Ned, for he saw that he
had made a mistake.

"Oh, well, den dat's diffunt, Massa Tom. I jes lubs oranges an'
bananas, an' ef yo'-all is shore dat I'll find some, why, I'll come
along."

"Find 'em? Of course you will!" cried Ned.

"And cocoanuts, too," added Tom. "Only, Rad, I meant to say that the
monkeys would throw the cocoanuts down to you from the trees. That
breaks the hard shells you see, and all you have to do is to take
out the meat, and drink the milk. Then the monkeys throw you down a
palm leaf fan to cool yourself off, while you're eating it. Oh, I
tell you, Rad, South America is the place to go to have a good
time."

"I believe you, Massa Tom. When do we-all start?"

"Pretty soon now."

"An' what all am yo' gwine arter, Massa Tom?"

The young inventor thought a moment. In times past he had not
hesitated to confide in his colored helper, but of late years
Eradicate had become somewhat childish, and he talked more than was
necessary. Tom wondered whether it would be safe to trust the giant
secret to him. After a moment's thought he realized that it would
not be. But, at the same time, he knew that if he did not give some
kind of an answer Eradicate would become suspicious, and that would
be worse. The colored helper had been with Tom on too many trips not
to know that his master never went without some object.

"Well, Rad, we're after big game this time," Tom said. "I don't know
what it will be that we'll get, whether animals or plants, and--"

"Oh, I knows, Massa Tom. Yo'-all means dem orchard plants that lib
on air--dem big orchard plants." Eradicate meant orchids, of which
many rare and beautiful kinds are found in South America.

"Yes, Rad, I guess we will get some big orchids," agreed Tom.

"An' I shorely will help climb de trees arter 'em. Or maybe we kin
git de monkeys to frow em down, same as dey will de cocoanuts."

"Maybe, Rad. Well, now go ahead and nail up the rest of these boxes.
We want to get started as soon as we can," and the colored man got
busy, murmuring from time to time something about oranges and
bananas and cocoanuts.

Everyone was occupied in getting matters in shape for the trip to
South America, even Mr. Swift laying aside his work on his pet
invention--a gyroscope--while he helped his son. And had Tom not
been quite so engrossed with his preparations he might have gone
about town more, in which case he would have learned something that
might have saved him and the others considerable trouble and no
little danger. And this fact was that Andy Foger had been in Shopton
several times lately.

After the trouble which the red-haired bully and his father caused
Tom and his friends on their trip to the city of gold, Mr. Foger
moved away from Shopton. He had lost his fortune and had to begin
all over again. The Foger homestead was closed up, and Andy ceased
to be a fixture of the town, for which Tom and Ned were very glad.

But of late Andy had been seen in Shopton several times, and it was
noticed that, on one or two occasions, he had a man with him--a man
who seemed to have plenty of money--a man with an air about him not
unlike that of Mr. Preston. A man with what newspaper men would have
called a circus or theatrical "air."

This man had visited Shopton soon after Mr. Preston made the giant
proposition to Tom, and before meeting Andy Foger had made special
inquiries about Tom Swift.

"Who are the people who have a hard feeling against this young
inventor in town?" the man had asked of several persons.

"Tom Swift has more friends than enemies," was the general reply.

"Oh, surely he must have some enemies," the man insisted. "He's been
running his aeroplanes and autos around town a long time, and surely
there must be some one who has a grudge against him. I suppose he
has lots of friends, but who are his enemies?"

Then he learned about Andy Foger, and, hearing that Andy now lived
in a nearby town, the man had at once gone there. It was not long
before he reappeared--and the red-haired bully was with him.

"And you haven't learned anything yet, Andy?" asked this mysterious
man one afternoon, when he met his tool in a quiet resort in
Shopton.

"Nothing yet, Mr. Waydell. But give me a little more time."

"Time! You've had more time now than you need. When I agreed to pay
you for finding out what part of South America Tom Swift would head
for to get some sort of a freak or animal for Preston's circus I
thought you'd make good quicker than this."

"So did I. But you see Tom is suspicious of me, and so is his chum,
Ned Newton. I can't go to them, and if I'm seen sneaking around the
house or shop, after what happened last, I'll be driven off."

"Well, it's up to you. I paid you to get the information and I
expect you to do it. Why don't you tackle that old colored man whom,
I understand, works for him? He ought to be simple enough to give
the game away."

"Eradicate? I will! I never thought of that I'll get that
information for you, Mr. Waydell, in a few days."

"You'd better, if you want to keep that money."

The two plotters parted, and that very afternoon gave Andy the
chance he wanted. He met Eradicate on his way to the village where
he was going after something Tom needed.

"Hello, Rad!" called Andy with a show of good feeling. "I haven't
seen you in some time. I suppose you're getting too old to travel
around with Tom any more?"

"Gittin' too old!" exclaimed the colored man indignantly, for that
was his sore point. "What yo'-all mean, Andy Foger? I ain't gittin'
old, an' neider am Boomerang."

"Oh, I thought you were, as you haven't been on any trips lately."

"I ain't, hey? Well I's gwine on one right soon, let me tell you
dat, Andy Foger!"

"No! Is that so? Glad to hear it. Up to the North Pole I suppose?"

"No, sah; not much! No cold country for this coon! I's gwine where
it's nice an 'warm, an' where de cocoanuts fall in yo' mouf--I mean
where de bananas an' oranges fall in you mouf, an' de monkeys frow
down cocoanuts an' palm leaf fans to yo'!"

"Where's that, Rad?" asked Andy, and he tried to make his voice
sound indifferent, as though the matter did not interest him.

"South America, dat's where it am, an' I's gwine wif Massa Tom. We's
gwine t' git a monstrous big orchard plant."

"Oh, yes; I've heard about them. Well, I hope you get all the
oranges and bananas you want. South America, eh? I suppose along the
Amazon river, where they have crocodiles forty feet long, that are
always hungry."

"No, sah! No crockermiles fo' me! We ain't goin' neah de Amerzon
riber at all. We's gwine away down in de middle part of South
America. It's a place suffin laik Gomeonaway--or Goonaway, or
suffin' laik dat."

"Oh, yes; I know where you mean!" and Andy could hardly conceal the
note of triumph in his voice. He had the very information he wanted
from the simple colored man. "Yes, I guess there are no crocodiles
there, and plenty of monkeys and cocoanuts. Well, I hope you have a
good time," and Andy hurried away to seek out the rival circus man.




CHAPTER VI

ALARMING NEWS


"Hand me that hammer, Ned."

"There it is, right behind you, on the bench."

"Oh, so it is. Here are those nails you were asking for."

"Good. Now we'll make things hum," and Ned Newton's voice was
drowned in the rapid driving of nails into boards.

"Bless my screw driver!" suddenly exclaimed Mr. Damon, who was
sawing planks to make covers for boxes.

"What's the matter?" asked Tom, looking up from a bundle he was
tying up. It contained the magneto of his aeroplane and he was
putting waterproof paper about it. "Did you cut your finger?"

"No, but I just happened to think that I nailed my watch up in that
last box."

"Nailed up your watch!" cried Mr. Preston, who, after a trip to New
York to make arrangements for passages on a steamer, had come back
to help Tom pack up.

"Yes, I took it out to see how long it took me to make a box cover,
and then Tom asked me to nail up that box containing the motor
parts, and I laid my watch right down on top, and put the boards
over it."

"Well, the only thing to do is to take off the cover," remarked Tom
grimly.

"Bless my chronometer! That will delay things," said the odd man
with a sigh. "But I suppose there is no hope for it," and he
proceeded to open the box, while Tom, Ned, the circus man and
Eradicate busied themselves over the hundred and one things to be
done before they would be ready for the trip to the interior of
South America.

"Look out, Ned!" called Tom. "You're making those top boards too
long. They'll stick out over the edge, and be ripped off if the box
catches on anything."

"Yes, you can't be too careful," cautioned Mr. Preston. "Each box or
package must be the right weight, or the porters and mule drivers
won't carry them into the interior. You may have to cross rough
trails, and even ford rivers. And as for bridges! well, the less
said about them the better. You aren't going to have any picnic, and
if you want to back out, Tom Swift, now is the time to say so."

"What! Back out?" cried our hero. "Never! I said I'd go and I'm
going. Ned, pass that brace and bit over, will you. I've got to bore
a hole for these screws."

And so the work went on in the big aeroplane shed, which they had
made their packing headquarters.

The Lark, that small, but strong and speedy aeroplane, had been
safely packed, and most of it had been sent on ahead to New York,
where the travellers were to take the steamer. There remained to be
transported their clothing, weapons and ammunition, and several
bundles and cases of trinkets which would be of more value in
bartering with the natives than money. Tom and Mr. Preston had
selected the things with great care, and at the last moment the
young inventor had packed a box of his own, and said nothing about
it. Included in it were some of his own and his father's inventions,
and had one been given a glance into that same box he would have
wondered at the queer things.

"What in the world are you taking with you, anyhow?" asked Ned, of
his chum, noticing the mysterious box.

"'You'll see, if we ever get to giant land," replied Tom with a
smile.

"How long before we can start?" asked Mr. Damon, late that day, when
most of the hard work had been finished. He was as anxious and as
eager as either of the youths to make a start.

"We ought to be ready at least a week from to-day," replied Tom,
"and perhaps sooner."

"Sooner, if you can make it," suggested Mr. Preston. "The steamer
sails a week from to-day, and if you miss that one you'll have to
wait two weeks more."

"Then a week from to-day we'll sail," decided Tom, with emphasis.
"We'll work nights getting things in shape."

Really, though, not much more remained to be done, and the next day
Mr. Preston again went to New York, accompanying a shipment of boxes
and cases that Tom sent on ahead.

The two chums were busy in the aeroplane hangar a few days after
this, nailing up the last of some light cases containing medicines,
personal effects and comforts that would accompany them on their
trip.

"Well, I'm glad of one thing," remarked Tom thoughtfully, as he
drove home the last nail in a box, "and that is that we won't be
bothered with that Andy Foger on this trip. I haven't seen hide nor
hair of him in some time. I guess he and his father are down and
out."

"I guess so. I haven't seen him either."

"Massa Andy were in town a few days ago," ventured Eradicate.

"He was?" cried Tom. "Did you see him? What was he doing, Rad?"

"Nuffin, same as usual. He done say I were too old to go on any more
hexpiditions wif yo' an' I proved dat I wasn't."

"Proved that you weren't, Rad? How?" And Tom looked anxiously at his
colored helper.

"Why, I done say t' him dat I was gwine wif yo'-all dis time, t' dat
Comeaway country after a big orchard plant. Dat's how I done prove
it to dat Andy Foger."

"Rad, you didn't tell him we were going to South America?" asked Tom
reproachfully.

"Suah I done so, Massa Tom. Dat were de only way t' prove t' him dat
I wa'an't gittin' too old."

"Oh, Rad! I'm afraid--" and Tom hesitated.

"Oh, I don't believe it amounted to anything," interposed Ned. "Andy
didn't have any one with him, did he, Rad?"

"No, Massa Ned. He were all alone by hisse'f."

"Then I guess it's all right, Tom. Andy was only rigging Eradicate,
and he didn't pay any attention to what he said."

"Well, I hope so," and the young inventor wore a thoughtful air as
he resumed the finish of the packing.

The colored man, blissfully unconscious that he had been the
innocent cause of a grave danger that overhung Tom and his friends,
whistled gaily as he gathered the boxes, bales and packages into a
pile, ready for the expressman, who was to call in the morning.

Tom, together with Ned, Mr. Damon and Eradicate, were to leave the
following afternoon, and stay in New York until the sailing of the
steamer. They preferred to be a day or so ahead of time than half an
hour late, and were taking no chances.

"Bless my timetable!" exclaimed Mr. Damon that night, as they sat in
the library of the Swift home, checking over the lists to make sure
that nothing had been forgotten, "bless my timetable, but it doesn't
seem possible that we are going to start at last."

"Yes, we'll soon be on the way to giant land," spoke Tom in a low
voice. Somehow the young inventor did not seem to be in his usually
bright spirits.

"You don't seem very enthusiastic," remarked Ned. "What's the
matter, Tom?"

"Oh, nothing much. Though I would feel better if I knew that Andy
Foger didn't have any inkling of what our plans were," he added, for
Eradicate was not present.

"Oh, nonsense!" exclaimed his chum. "Mr. Preston will be here in the
morning, and he'll know whether his rival has any idea of camping on
our trail. Cheer up!"

"Yes, I suppose I am foolish to worry," admitted Tom. "but, somehow
I can't help it. I wish Mr. Preston was here now to tell us that
Wayland Waydell had gone off to the centre of Africa for a dwarf.
Then I'd know we had nothing to fear. But I guess--"

Tom did not finish his sentence for, at that moment, there came a
peal at the door bell. Instinctively every one started, and Mr.
Damon exclaimed:

"Bless my burglar alarm! What's that?"

"Someone at the door, Tom," replied Mr. Swift calmly. "That's
nothing unusual. It's early yet."

But, in spite of his reassuring words, there was a feeling of vague
alarm.

"I'll see who it is," volunteered Ned. "If it's Andy Foger--"

Mrs. Baggert entered the room at that moment. She had hurried to the
door, and, as she entered she announced:

"Mr. Preston!"

"Yes, it is I!" added the circus man following her quickly into the
room. "I came on to-night instead of waiting for the morning, Tom. I
have bad news for you!"

"Bad news!" gasped the young inventor. "Has Waydell got hold of your
plans."

"I'll wager it has something to do with Andy Foger!" exclaimed Ned.

"Neither one," spoke the circus man. "But I have just had a cable
dispatch from one of my animal agents in Brazil, saying that war has
broken out among the tribes in the central part of South America. A
big native war is being waged all around giant land, as near as we
can figure it out."

"War among the native tribes!" exclaimed Mr. Swift.

"Yes, and one of the worst in years. Of course, Tom, after such
alarming news as this I won't hold you to your promise to go. It's
all off. I'm sorry, but you'd better wait. It won't be safe to go
there now. Better unpack, Tom."

For a moment there was a silence in the room. Then the young
inventor leaped to his feet and faced the circus man.

"Unpack?" cried Tom in ringing tones. "Never! I'm going to giant
land, fight or no fight! Ned, come with me and we'll put in some of
my electric rifles. I wasn't going to take them along, but I will
now. Unpack? I guess not! I'm going to get a giant for you, Mr.
Preston, and save Jake Poddington if he's alive. Come on, Ned."




CHAPTER VII

FIRE ON BOARD


"Your electric rifles!" exclaimed Ned Newton, as he followed his
chum to the storeroom, where Tom kept a number of spare guns. "It's
a good thing you thought of them, Tom."

"Yes, I didn't think we'd need them, for I believe peaceable means
are the best to use on natives. But if there's a war, and we have to
defend ourselves against the tribes, we'll take along something that
will do more damage than an ordinary rifle, and yet I can regulate
it so that it will only stun, and not kill."

"That's the stuff, Tom. No use in being needlessly cruel. How many
will you take?"

"Two or three. We may need 'em all."

A little later the two lads returned to the library where Mr. Damon,
Mr. Swift and the circus man were anxiously awaiting them. Mr.
Preston looked curiously at several objects which Tom and Ned
carried. The objects looked like guns but were different from any
the giant-seeker had seen.

"What are they?" he asked Tom.

"Electric rifles. One of my inventions," and Tom showed how the
weapon worked. Those of you who have read the volume entitled, "Tom
Swift and His Electric Rifle" will remember this curious weapon. It
was worked by a stored charge of magnetism of the wireless kind. By
this a concentrated globule of electricity was projected from the
muzzle, and it could be made strong or weak at the will of the
marksman. It could be made so powerful that it would totally
annihilate a whale, as Tom had once proved, or it could be made so
mild that it would put an enemy, or several of them, to sleep almost
as gently as some narcotic, and they would awaken after several
hours, little the worse for their experience.

A charge of electricity as powerful as five thousand volts could be
concentrated into a small wireless globule the size of a bullet, and
this would fly through space, or even through solid objects until,
reaching the limit of the range set, would strike the object aimed
at. With his wonderful electric rifle Tom had not only killed
elephants, and other big game, but fought off the red pygmies of
Africa.

"And we may have a use for it in South America," he added as he
explained the workings to Mr. Preston.

"Well, I'm glad you didn't back out," commented the circus man, "and
this may come in mighty handy. I'll feel easier about you now, Tom,
when I know you have some electric rifles with you."

The circus man was told of what Eradicate had said to Andy, but he
was of the opinion that no harm would result from it.

"As far as I can learn," went on Mr. Preston, "my old rival Waydell
has given up the giant idea. He is looking for a two-headed
crocodile, said to be somewhere along the Nile river, and he's
fitting out an expedition there I understand. I guess we won't be
bothered with him. But the giant for mine! If I get that sort of an
attraction his two-headed crocodile won't be in it. I hope you have
luck, Tom Swift."

The last details of the expedition were considered. Nothing seemed
to have been left undone, and though carrying the electric rifles
would make a little more baggage, no one minded that.

"I kin carry dem," said Eradicate. "I ain't got much baggage of mah
own."

So it was arranged, and early the next morning the little band of
intrepid travelers, who were going in search of giant land, started
for New York. They little knew what was ahead of them, nor what dire
perils they were to pass through.

Of course Tom had said good-bye to Mary Nestor and half-jokingly, he
had promised to bring back a giant of his own, that she might see
one outside of a circus.

"But, Tom," Mary exclaimed with a laugh, "what will you do with one
of the big creatures if you get one?"

"Have him help me on my newest invention--the noiseless airship,"
answered the young inventor. "I need some one to lift heavy weights.
It will save putting up a derrick. Yes, I think I'll get a giant of
my own."

The last good-byes were said, and the parting between Tom and his
father was affecting.

"I'll soon be back, dad," he said in as cheerful a tone as he could
assume, "and I'll help you finish your gyroscope."

"I hope you will, Tom," and then, with a pressure of his son's hand,
Mr. Swift turned away and went into the house, closing the door
after him.

The first part of the trip to New York was rather a silent one, no
one caring to talk much. Eradicate was the only cheerful member of
the party, which included the circus man, who was going as far as
the steamer with Tom and his friends.

"Say," Ned exclaimed finally, "any one would think we were going to
a funeral!"

"That's right," agreed Tom. "I guess something is on all our nerves.
Let's do something to take it off. Here comes a boy with some funny
papers. We'll buy some and read all the jokes."

This proved a diversion, and before the train had gone many miles
more the giant-hunters were talking and laughing as though they were
merely starting on a short pleasure trip, instead of an expedition
to the dangerous jungles of South America.

They put up at a good hotel in New York, and as soon as they were
established Tom and Mr. Preston went to the steamer Calaban which
was to land them at Buenos Ayres. They found that there was some
confusion about their luggage and boxes, and it took them the better
part of a day to get the tangle straightened out, and their stuff
stored together in one hold.

"It will be easier to get it out if it's all together," said Tom, at
the conclusion of their labors, and then he and the circus man
returned to the hotel. The ship was to sail two days later, and,
several hours before the time set for the departure, Tom and his
friends were on board.

"You don't see anything of your rival circus friend, do you?" asked
Tom, of the man who wanted a giant.

"Not a sign," was the answer, as Mr. Preston glanced over the throng
of on-coming passengers. "I guess we've either given him the slip,
or he's given up the game. You won't have to worry about him. Just
take it easy until you start for the interior, and from then on
you'll have hard work enough."

The last of the cargo was being taken aboard, the late passengers
had arrived and were anxiously watching to see that their baggage
was not lost. As Mr. Preston stood talking with Tom near the
gangplank, a clerical looking gentleman approached the circus man.

"I beg your pardon," he began in mild accents, "but could you tell
me where my stateroom is?" and he showed his ticket. "I'm not used
to traveling," he needlessly added for that fact was very evident.
Mr. Preston informed him how to get to his berth, and the gentleman
went on: "Are you going all the way to Buenos Ayres?"

"No, but my friend is," and the circus man nodded at Tom.

"Oh, I'm so glad!" the stranger exclaimed. "Then I shall have
someone of whom I can ask questions. I am quite lost when I travel."

"I'll help you all I can," volunteered Tom, "and I'll show you to
your stateroom now."

"Ah, thank you. Your name is--"

"Tom Swift," supplied the young inventor.

"Ah, yes, I believe I have read about your airships. I am the
Reverend Josiah Blinderpool. I am taking a little vacation. I trust
we shall become good friends."

"Humph, he's a regular infant, to be away from civilization," mused
Tom, when he had showed the clergyman to the proper stateroom.
"He'll get into trouble, he's so innocent."  If he could have seen
that same "clergyman" double up with mirth when he had closed his
stateroom door after him, Tom would not have felt so sure about that
same "innocence."

"To think that I was talking face to face with Sam Preston and he
never tumbled to who I was!" exclaimed the newcomer softly. "That's
rich! Now if I play my cards right I shouldn't be surprised but what
they'd invite me to come along with them. That would just suit me. I
wouldn't have any trouble then, getting on the track of those
giants. The information Waydell got from that red-haired Foger chap
wasn't any too definite," and once more the man wearing the garb of
a minister chuckled.

"Well, I'll say good-bye," remarked Mr. Preston, a little later,
when the warning bell had rung. "I guess you'll get along all right.
I haven't seen a sign of Waydell, or any of his slick agents. You'll
have no trouble I guess."

But if the circus man could have seen the "clergyman" at that same
time looking over letters addressed to "Hank Delby," and signed
"Wayland Waydell" he would not have been so confident.

Mr. Preston bade good-bye to his friends, the gangplank was hauled
up, and a hoarse blast came from the whistle of the Calaban.

"Bless my pocketbook!" cried Mr. Damon. "We're off!"

"Yep, off t' git dat big, giant orchard plant," chimed in Eradicate.

"Hush!" exclaimed Tom, who did not like the use of the word "giant"
even in that connection. "Don't tell everyone our business, Rad."

"Dat's right, Massa Tom. I clean done forgot dat it's a sort of
secret. I'll keep mighty still 'bout it."

The Calaban swung out into the river and began steaming down the
bay.

The first week of the voyage was uneventful. The weather was
exceptionally fine, and hardly any one was seasick. The Reverend Mr.
Blinderpool was often on deck, and he made it a point to cultivate
the acquaintance of Tom and his friends. In spite of the fact that
he said he had traveled very little, he seemed to know much about
hidden corners of the world, but always, as on an occasion when he
had accidentally let slip some remark that showed he had been in
far-off China or Asia, he would suddenly change the conversation
when it verged to travel.

"There's something queer about that minister," said Ned after one of
these occasions, "but I can't decide what it is."

"Nonsense!" exclaimed Tom, who rather liked the man.

"No nonsense about it. Why should a minister take a trip like this
when he isn't sick, and when he isn't going to establish a mission
in South America? There's something queer about it, for, by his own
words he just took this voyage as a whim."

"Oh, you're too fussy," declared Tom; and for the time the subject
was dropped.

They ran into a storm when about ten days out, and for a while they
had a rough time of it, and then the weather cleared again.

It was one evening, after the formal dinner, when Tom and Ned were
strolling about on deck, before turning in, that, the quiet of the
ship was broken by what is always an alarming cry at sea.

"Fire! Fire!" shouted a man, pointing to a thin wisp of smoke
curling up from the deck amidships.

"Keep quiet!" yelled one of the stewards. "It is nothing!"

"It's a fire, I tell you!" insisted the man, and several others took
up the cry.

A panic was imminent, and the captain came running from his
quarters.

"What is it?" he asked.

An officer hurried to his side, and said something but in such a low
voice that Tom, who was standing close beside the two, scarcely
heard it. But he did hear this:

"There's a fire, sir, in hold number seventeen. We have turned the
hose in there, and the pumps are working."

"Very good, Mr. Meld. Now try and quiet the passengers. Tell them it
doesn't amount to much, and if it does we can flood that
compartment."

Tom started at that.

"Come on, Ned!" he cried, grabbing his chum by the arm.

"Why, what's up? What's the matter?"

"Matter? Matter enough! The fire is in the hold where all our stuff
is stored, and if the flames reach that box I packed last--well, I
wouldn't give much for the ship!" and fairly dragging his chum
along, Tom raced for the place where the smoke was now coming up in
thicker clouds.




CHAPTER VIII

A NARROW ESCAPE


"Here, come back! You can't go past here!"

"But I've got to go! I tell you I must go! It's important!"

The first speaker was one of the ship's officers, and the other was
Tom Swift, who, accompanied by his chum, was trying to get past a
rope that had been hastily stretched in front of the hold where the
smoke was rolling up in ever-thickening clouds.

"It's important that you stay where you are," insisted the officer.
"Look here young man, do you want to start a panic? You know what
that is on board ship. Keep cool, we'll get the fire out all right."

"I am cool," responded Tom, and, though he did look a bit excited,
he was calm enough to know what he was doing.

"Then keep back!" insisted the officer.

A crowd was gathering and there were ominous whispers sent back and
forth. Some hysterical women were beginning to scream, and there
were anxious looks on all faces.

"I tell you it's important that I go down there," insisted Tom. "I
want to get a box--"

"We'll look after the baggage of the passengers," declared the
officer. "You don't need to worry, young man."

"But I tell you I do!" and Tom's voice was loud now. "It isn't so
much on my account, as--" and then, stepping quickly to the side of
the officer he whispered something.

"What!" cried the officer. "You don't tell me? That was a risk! I
guess I'll have to help you get it out. Here, Mr. Simm," he called
to one of the mates, "stand guard here. I'm going down into the hold
with this young man."

"Shall I come?" cried Ned.

"No, you go stay with Mr. Damon and Eradicate," answered Tom. "Tell
them everything is all right. And for cats' sake keep Rad cool.
Don't let him get excited and start a panic. I'll be back in a
minute."

With that Tom and the officer disappeared from view, and Ned, after
wondering what it was all about, hastened to reassure Mr. Damon and
the colored man that there was no danger, though from the manner in
which Tom had acted his chum was convinced that something was wrong.

Meanwhile our hero, accompanied by the officer, was groping his way
through the thick smoke in the compartment. The officer had switched
on the electric lights, and they shone with a yellow haze through
the clouds of choking vapor.

"Can you see it?" asked the officer anxiously.

"I had it put where I could easily get at it," answered Tom with a
cough, for some of the smoke had got down his throat. "I had an idea
I might need it in a hurry. Here it is!" and he pointed to a large
box, marked with his initials in red paint. "Give me a hand and
we'll get it out."

"Yes, and send it on deck. See, there's the fire!" and the officer
pointed to where a glow could be seen amid some bales of cotton. "It
will be slow burning, that's one good thing, and by turning steam
into this compartment we can soon put it out."

"It's pretty close to my box," commented Tom, "but there isn't as
much danger as I thought."

It did not take him and the officer long to move the box away from
its proximity to the fire, for the case was not heavy, though it was
of good size, and then the officer having called up an order to some
of his fellow seamen on deck, a rope was let down, and the box
hoisted up.

"Whew! That was a narrow escape!" exclaimed Tom as he saw his case
go up on deck. "I suppose I shouldn't have had that stored here. But
there were so many things to think of that I forgot."

"Yes, it was a risk," commented the officer. "But what are you going
to do with that sort of stuff, anyhow?"

"I may need it when we get among the wild tribes of South American
Indians," answered Tom non-commitally. "I'm much obliged for your
help."

"Oh, that's nothing. Anything to save the ship."

At that moment there were confused cries, and a series of shouts and
commands up on deck.

"We'd better hurry out of here," said the officer.

"Why?"

"The captain has just ordered steam turned in here. I hope there
isn't anything of yours that will be damaged by it."

"No, everything else is in waterproof coverings. Come on, we'll
climb out."

They hurried from the compartment and, a little later clouds of
quenching steam were poured in from a hose run from the boiler room.
The hatch was battened down, and then the smoke ceased to come up.

"The danger is practically over," the captain assured the frightened
passengers. "The fire will be all out by morning. You may go to your
staterooms in perfect safety."

Some did, and others, disbelieving, hung around the hatch-cover,
sniffing and peering to discover traces of smoke. But the sailors
had done their work well, and a stranger would not have known that a
fire was in the hold.

The captain had spoken truly, and in the morning the fire was
completely out, a few charred bales of cotton being the only things
damaged. They were hauled up and dumped into the sea, while Tom,
making a hasty inspection of his other goods placed in that
compartment saw, to his relief, that beyond one case of trinkets,
designed for barter with the natives, nothing had been damaged, and
even the trinkets could be used on a pinch.

"But what was in that box?" asked Ned, that night as they got ready
to retire, the excitement having calmed down.

"Hush! Not so loud," cautioned Tom, for Mr. Damon was in the next
stateroom, while Eradicate had one across the corridor. "I'll tell
you, Ned, but don't breathe a word of it to Rad or Mr. Damon. They
might not intend to give it away, but I'm afraid they would, if they
knew, and I depend on the things in that box to give the native
giants the surprise of their lives in case we--well, in case we come
to close quarters."

"Close quarters?"

"Yes, have a fight, you know, or in case they get so fond of us that
they won't hear of letting us go--in other words if they make us
captives."

"Great Scott, Tom! You don't think they'll do that, do you?"

"No telling, but if they do, Ned, I've got some things in that box
that will make them wish they hadn't. It's got--" and Tom leaned
forward and whispered, as though he feared even the walls would
hear.

"Good!" cried his chum! "That's the stuff! No wonder you thought the
ship might be damaged if the fire got to that!"

It seemed that the slight fire was about all the excitement destined
to take place aboard the Calaban, for, after the blaze was so
effectually quenched, the ship slipped along through the calm seas,
and it was actually an effort to kill time on the part of the
passengers. As they progressed further south the weather became more
and more warm, until, as they approached the equator, every one put
on the lightest garments obtainable.

"Crossing the line," was the signal for the usual "stunts" among the
sailors. "Neptune" came aboard, with his usual sea-green whiskers
made from long rope ends, and with his trident much in evidence; and
there was plenty of horseplay which the passengers very much
enjoyed.

Then, as the tropical region was left behind, the weather became
more bearable. There were one or two storms, but they were of no
consequence and the steamer weathered them easily.

Torn and his friends had several talks with the "Reverend Josiah
Blinderpool," as the pretended clergyman still called himself. But
he did not obtrude his company on them, and though he asked many
questions as to where Tom and his party were going, the young
inventor, with his usual caution in talking to strangers, rather
evaded them.

"Hang it all! He's as close-mouthed as a clam," complained "Mr.
Blinderpool" to himself one day, after an attempt to worm something
from Tom, "I'll just have to stick close to him and his chum to get
a line on where they're heading for. And I must find out, or Waydell
will think I'm throwing the game."

As for Tom and the others, they gave the seeming clergyman little
thought--that is until one day when something happened. Ned had been
down in the engine room, having had permission to inspect the
wonderful machinery, and, on his way back he passed the smoking
cabin. He was rather surprised to see Mr. Blinderpool in there,
puffing on a big black cigar, and with him were some men whom Ned
recognized as personages who had vainly endeavored to get a number
of passengers into a card game with them. And, unless Ned's eyes
deceived him, the seeming clergyman was about to indulge in a game
himself.

"That's mighty queer," mused Ned. "Guess I'll tell Tom about this. I
never saw a minister play cards in public before, and this Mr.
Blinderpool has been trying to get thick with Tom, of late. Maybe
he's a gambler in disguise."

Filled with this thought Ned hastened off to warn his chum.




CHAPTER IX

"FORWARD MARCH!"


"You don't say so!" exclaimed the young inventor, when Ned had told
him the queer news. "Well, do you know I've been suspicious of that
fellow ever since he tried to make friends with us."

"Suspicious? How so? You don't think--"

"Oh, I mean I think he's some kind of a confidence man who has
adopted the respectable clothes of a minister to fool people. He may
be a card sharper himself. Well, we won't have anything more to do
with him. It won't be long before we arrive at Buenos Ayres, and
then we won't be bothered with card sharpers or anybody else but--"

"Giants and fighting natives," finished Ned, with a laugh. "You
forget, Tom, that there's a war going on near the very place we're
headed for."

"That's so, Ned. But with what we have with us I guess we can make
out all right. I'm going to have the electric rifles handy the
minute we start for the interior."

The voyage continued, and was fast drawing to a close. "Mr.
Blinderpool" made several more attempts to strike up a friendship
with Tom, or his chum, but they were on their guard now, and,
failing to get into much of a conversation with the two young men,
the pretended clergyman turned his attentions to Mr. Damon.

That eccentric gentleman welcomed him at first, until a quiet hint
from Tom brought that to an end.

"Bless my fire shovel!" cried Mr. Damon. "You don't say so! Not a
clergyman at all? Dear me!"

And then, getting desperate, and needing very much to learn how long
a journey his rivals were to undertake, so that he, too, might
prepare for it, Mr. Hank Delby, alias Blinderpool, began to "pump"
Eradicate.

But the latter was too sharp for him. Well knowing that a white man
would not get suddenly friendly with one of the black race unless
for some selfish object, Eradicate fairly snubbed the seeming
minister, until that worthy had to go off by himself, saying bitter
things and casting black looks at our friends.

"But I'll get ahead of them yet!" he muttered, "and I'll get their
giants away from them, if they capture any."

The box on which Tom set such an importance, and which had so nearly
been the cause of a disaster, had been stored in one of the fire-
proof compartments of the ship, and now, as a few days more would
see the vessel entering the harbor of the Rio de la Plata, thence to
steam up to the ancient city of Buenos Ayres, Tom and the others
began to think of what lay before them.

"How do you propose to head into the interior?" asked Mr. Damon one
afternoon, when the captain announced that the following morning
would see them nearly opposite Montevideo.

"I'm going to hire a lot of burrows, donkeys or whatever they have
down here that answers the purpose," replied Tom. "We have a lot of
things to transport, and I guess pack mules would be the best, if we
can get them. Then I've got to hire some drivers and some porters,
camp-makers and the like. In fact we'll have quite a party. I guess
I'll need ten natives, and a head man and with ourselves we'll be
fifteen. So we'll need plenty of food. But then we can get that as
we go along, except when we get away into the interior, and then
we'll have to hunt it ourselves."

"That's the stuff!" cried Ned. "We haven't had a good hunting
expedition since we went to elephant land, Tom. The electric rifles
will come in handy here."

"Yes, I expect they will. Now come on, Ned, and help me get a list
ready of the things we've got to take with us, and how they can best
be divided up."

Thick weather delayed the ship somewhat, so it was not until evening
of the next day that they made Montevideo, where part of the cargo
was to be discharged. As they would lay over there a day, the boys
decided to go ashore, which they did, wondering at the strange
sights in the old city.

Tom watched to see if the pretended minister would land, and
endeavor to force his acquaintance, but Mr. Hank Delby, to give him
his right name, was not in evidence. In fact he was turning over
scheme after scheme in his mind in order to hit on one that would
enable him to take advantage of the preparations which had been made
by his rival in the circus business.

"I've just got to get a line on where those giants are to be found,"
mused Mr. Delby, in the seclusion of his stateroom, "even if I have
to take some other disguise and follow that Swift crowd. That's what
I'll do. I'll put on some other disguise! I wonder what it had
better be?"

Tom and Ned, to say nothing of Mr. Damon and Eradicate, found much
to interest them in the capital of Uruguay, and they were rather
sorry, in a way, when it was time for them to leave.

"But we'll see plenty more strange sights," remarked Tom, as the
steamer started off for Buenos Ayres. "In fact our trip hasn't
really begun yet."

In due time they dropped anchor at the ancient city, and then began
a series of confused and busy times. In fact there was so much to
do, seeing to the unloading of their stuff, arranging for hotel
accommodations, seeing to hiring natives for the expedition into the
interior, and other details, that Tom and his friends had no time to
think anything about the pretended clergyman who had caused them a
little worry.

Eventually their belongings were stored in a safe place, and our
friends sat down to a good dinner in a hotel that, while it was in
far-off South America, yet was as good as many in New York, and, in
some respects the boys, and Mr. Damon, liked it better.

They found that the Spanish and Portuguese languages were the
principal ones spoken, together with a mixture of the native
tongues, and as both Ned and Tom, as well as Mr. Damon, had a
working knowledge of Spanish they got along fairly well. Some of the
hotel people could speak English.

Tom made inquiries and found that the best plan would be to
transport all his stuff by the regular route to Rosario, on the
Parana river in Argentina, and there he could make up his pack
train, hire native carriers, and start for the interior.

"Then we'll do that," he decided, "and take it easy until we get to
Rosario."

It took them the better part of a week to do this, but at last they
were on the ground, and felt for the first time that they were
really going into a wild and little explored country.

"Are you going to stick to the Parana river?" asked Ned.

"No," replied Tom, in the seclusion of their room, "if there are any
giants they will be found in some undiscovered, or at least little
traveled, part of the country. I don't believe they are in the
vicinity of the big rivers, or other travelers would have heard
about them, and, as far as we know, Mr. Preston's animal agent is
the only one who ever got a trace of them. We'll have to go into the
jungle on either side of the river."

"Bless my walking stick!" cried Mr. Damon. "Have we really to go
into the jungle, Tom?"

"I'm afraid we have, if we want to get any giants, and get a trace
of Mr. Poddington."

"All right, I'm game, but I do hope we won't run into a band of
fighting natives."

In Rosario it was learned that while the "war" was not regarded
seriously from the fact that the fighting tribes were far inland,
still it was going on with vigor, and large bands of natives were
roaming about, stealing each others' cattle and horses, burning
villages, and taking captives.

"I guess we're in for it," remarked Tom grimly. "But I'm not going
to back out now."

Unexpected complications, difficulties in the way of getting the
right kind of help, and a competent man to take charge of the native
drivers, so delayed our friends that it was nearly two weeks after
their arrival in Rosario before they could start for the interior.

Of course the object of the expedition was kept a secret, and Tom
let it be known that he and his friends were merely exploring, and
wanted rare plants, orchids, or anything in that line. The natives
were not very curious.

At last the day for the start came. The mules, which had been hired
as beasts of burdens, were loaded with boxes or bales on either
side, the natives were marshalled into line. Tom, Ned, and Mr.
Damon, each equipped with a rifle had a saddle animal to ride, and
Eradicate was similarly equipped, though for a weapon he depended on
a shotgun, which he said he understood better than the electric
rifles.

The aeroplane, divided into many small packages, the goods for
barter, their supplies, stores, ammunition, and the box of which Tom
took such care--all these were on the backs of the beasts of burden.
Some food was taken along, but for a time, at least, they could
depend on scattered towns or villages, or the forest game, for their
eating.

"Are we all ready?" called Tom, looking at the rather imposing
cavalcade of which he was the head.

"I guess so," replied Ned. "Let her go!"

"Bless my liver pad!" gasped Mr. Damon. "If we've got to start do
it, and let's get it over with Tom."

"All ready, Rad?" asked the colored man's young master.

"All ready, Massa Tom. But I mus' say dat I'd radder hab Boomerang
dan dish yeah animal what I'm ridin'."

"Oh, you'll do all right, Rad. Then, if we're all ready, forward
march!" cried Tom, and with calls to their animals, the drivers
started them off.

Hardly had they begun the advance than Ned, who had been narrowly
watching one of the natives, hurried up to Tom, and rapidly
whispered something to his chum.

"What?" cried Tom. "Armed with a six-shooter, is he? Well, we'll see
about that! Halt!" he cried in Spanish, and then he called San Pedro
the head mule driver, to him.




CHAPTER X

A WILD HORSE STAMPEDE


"Who is that man?" demanded Tom pointing to the one Ned had
indicated. Tom's chum had had a glimpse of a shining revolver in the
hip pocket of one of the mule drivers, and knowing that the simple
natives were not in the habit of carrying such weapons, the lad had
communicated his suspicions to Tom.

"What man, senor?" asked the head mule driver.

"That one!" and the young inventor again pointed toward him. And,
now that Tom looked a second time he saw that the man was not as
black as the other drivers--not an honest, dark-skinned black but
more of a sickly yellow, like a treacherous half-breed. "Who is he?"
asked Tom, for the man in question was just then tightening a girth
and could not hear him.

"I know not, senor. He come to me when I am hiring the others, and
he say he is a good driver. And so he is, I test him before I engage
him," went in San Pedro in Spanish. "He is one good driver."

"Why does he carry a revolver?"

"A revolver, senor? Santa Maria, I know not! I--"

"I'll find out," declared Tom determinedly. "Here," he called to the
offending one, who straightened up quickly. "Come here!"

The man came, with all the cringing servility of a born native, and
bowed low.

"Why have you a weapon?" asked the young inventor. "I gave orders
that none of the drivers were to carry them."

"A revolver, senor? I have none! I--"

"Rad, reach in his pocket!" cried Tom, and the colored man did so
with a promptness that the other could not frustrate. Eradicate held
aloft a large calibre, automatic weapon.

"What's that for?" asked Tom, virtuously angry.

"I--er--I--" and then, with a hopeless shrug of his shoulders the
man turned away.

"Give him his gun, and get another driver, San Pedro," directed our
hero, and with another shrug of his shoulders the man accepted the
revolver, and walked slowly off. Another driver was not hard to
engage, as several had been hanging about, hoping for employment at
the last minute, and one was quickly chosen.

"It's lucky you saw that gun, Ned," remarked Tom, when they were
actually under way again.

"Yes, I saw the sun shining on it as his coat flapped up. What was
his game, do you suppose?"

"Oh, he might be what they call a 'bad half-breed' down here. I
guess maybe he thought he could lord it over the other drivers when
we got out in the jungle, and maybe take some of their wages away
from them, or have things easier for himself."

"Bless my wishbone!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "You don't think he meant
to use it on us, Tom?"

"Why no? What makes you ask that?"

"Oh, I'm just nervous, I guess," replied the odd man.

But if Mr. Damon could have seen that same half-breed a little
later, as he slipped into a Rosario resort, with the yellow stain
washed from his face, the nervousness of the eccentric gentleman
would have increased. For the man who had been detected with the
revolver muttered to himself:

"Caught! Well, I'll fool 'em next time all right! I thought I could
get away with the pack train, and then it would have been easy to
turn the natives any way I wished, after I had found what I'm
looking for. But I had to go and carry that gun! I never thought
they'd spot it. Well, it's all up now, and if Waydell heard of it
he'd want to fire me. But I'll make good yet. I'll have to adopt
some other disguise, and see if I can't tag along behind."

All unconscious of the plotter they had left back of them, Tom and
his companions pushed on, rapidly leaving such signs of civilization
as were represented by small native towns and villages, and coming
nearer to the jungles and forests that lay between them and the
place where Tom was destined to be made a captive.

They were far enough away from the tropics to escape the intolerable
heat, and yet it was quite warm. In fact the weather was not at all
unpleasant, and, once they were started, all enjoyed the novelty of
the trip.

Tom planned to keep along the eastern shore of the Parana river,
until they reached the junction where the Salado joins it. Then he
decided that they would do better to cross the Parana and strike
into the big triangle made by that stream and its principal
tributary, heading north toward Bolivia.

"For it is in that little-explored part of South America that I
think the giants will be found." said Tom, as he talked it over with
Ned and Mr. Damon in the privacy of their tent, which had been set
up.

"But why should there be giants there any more than anywhere else?"
asked Ned.

"No particular reason," answered his chum. "But, according to the
last word Mr. Preston had from his agent, that was where he was
heading for, and that's where Zacatas, his native helper, said he
lost track of his master. I have a theory that the giants, if we
find any, will turn out to be a branch of a Patagonian tribe."

"Patagonians!" exclaimed Ned.

"Yes. You know the natives of the Southern part of Argentina grow to
a considerable size. Now Patagonia is a comparatively bleak and cold
country. What would prevent some of that big tribe centuries ago,
from having migrated to a warmer country, where life was more
favorable? After several generations they may have grown to be
giants."

"Bravo!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "It's a good theory, at any rate, Tom.
Though whether you can ever prove it is a question."

"Yes, and a big one," agreed the young inventor with a laugh.

For some days they traveled along over a comparatively flat country,
bordering the river. At times they would pass through small native
villages, where they would be able to get fresh meat, poultry and
other things that varied their bill of fare. Again there would be
long, lonely stretches of forest or jungle, through which it was
difficult to make their way. And, occasionally they would come to
fair-sized towns where their stay was made pleasant.

"I doan't see any ob dem oranges an' bananas droppin' inter mah
mouf, Massa Tom," complained Eradicate one day, after they had been
on the march for over a week.

"Have patience, Rad," advised Tom. "We'll come to them when we get a
little farther into the interior. First we'll come to the monkeys,
and the cocoanut trees."

"Hones' Massa Tom?"

"Surely."

And though it was pretty far south for the nimble simians, the next
day they did come upon a drove of them skipping about in the tall
palm trees.

"There they are, Rad! There they are!" cried Ned, as the chattering
of the monkeys filled the forest.

"By golly! So dey be! Heah's where I get some cocoanuts!"

Before anyone could stop him, Eradicate caught up a dead branch, and
threw it at a monkey. The chattering increased, and almost instantly
a shower of cocoanuts came crashing down, narrowly missing some of
our friends.

"Hold on, Rad! Hold on!" cried Tom. "Some of us will be hurt!"

Crack! came a cocoanut down on the skull of the colored man.

"Bless my court plaster! Someone's hurt now!" cried Mr. Damon.

"Hurt? Bless yo' heart, Massa Damon, it takes mo' dan dat t' hurt
dish yeah chile!" cried Eradicate with a grin. "Ah got a hard head,
Ah has, mighty hard head, an' de cocoanut ain't growed dat kin bust
it. Thanks, Mistah Monkey, thanks!" and with a laugh Eradicate
jumped off his mule, and began gathering up the nuts, while the
monkeys fled into the forest.

"Very much good to drink milk," said San Pedro, as he picked up a
half-ripe nut, and showed how to chop off the top with a big knife
and drain the slightly acid juice inside. "Very much good for
thirst."

"Let's try it," proposed Tom, and they all drank their fill, for
there were many cocoanuts, though it was rather an isolated grove of
them.

The monkeys became more numerous as they proceeded farther north
toward the equator, for it must be remembered that they had landed
south of it, and at times the little animals became a positive
nuisance.

Several days passed, and they crossed the Parana river and struck
into the almost unpenetrated tract of land where Tom hoped to find
the giants. As yet none of their escort dreamed of the object of the
expedition, and though Tom had caused scouts to be sent back over
their trail to learn if they were being followed there was no trace
of any one.

One day, after a night camp on the edge of a rather high table land,
they started across a fertile plain that was covered with a rich
growth of grass.

"Good grazing ground here," commented Ned.

"Yes," put in San Pedro. "Plenty much horse here pretty soon."

"Do the natives graze their herds of horses here?" asked Tom.

"No natives--wild horses," explained Pedro. "Plenty much, sometimes
too many they come. You see, maybe."

It was nearly noon, and Tom was considering stopping for dinner if
they could come to a good watering place, when Ned, who had ridden
slightly in advance, came galloping back as fast as his steed would
carry him.

"Look out! Look out!" he cried. "There's a stampede of 'em, and
they're headed right this way!"

"Stampede of what? Who's headed this way?" cried Tom. "A lot of
monkeys?"

"No, wild horses! Thousands of 'em! Hear 'em coming?"

In the silence that followed Ned's warning there could be heard a
dull, roaring, thundering sound, and the earth seemed to tremble.

"The young senor speaks truth! Wild horses are coming!" cried San
Pedro. "Get ready, senors! Have your weapons at hand, and perchance
we can turn the stampede aside."

"The rifles! The electric rifles, Ned--Mr. Damon! We've got to stop
them, or they'll trample us to death!" cried Tom.

As he spoke the thundering became louder, and then, looking across
the grassy plain, all saw a large troop of wild horses, with flying
manes and tails, headed directly toward them!




CHAPTER XI

CAUGHT IN A LIVING ROPE


"Quick! Peg out the mules!" cried San Pedro, after one look at the
onrushing horses. "Drive the stakes well down! Tie them fast and
then get behind those rocks! Lively!"

He cried his orders to the natives in Spanish, at the same time
motioning to Tom and Ned.

"Get off your mules!" he went on. "Peg them out. Peg out the others,
and then run for it!"

"Run for it?" repeated Tom, "Do you think I'm going to leave my
outfit in the midst of that stampede?" and he waved his hand toward
the thundering, galloping wild horses which were coming nearer every
moment. "Get out the electric rifles, and we'll turn that stampede.
I'm not going to run."

"Bless my saddle!" cried Mr. Damon. "This is awful! There must be a
thousand of them."

"Nearer two!" cried Ned, who was struggling to loosen the straps
that bound his electric rifle to the side of his mule. Already the
pack animals as well as those ridden by the members of the giant-
hunting party were showing signs of excitement. They seemed to want
to join the stampeding horses.

"Peg our animals out! Peg them out! Make them so they can't join the
others!" yelled San Pedro. "It's our only chance!"

"I believe he's right!" cried Mr. Damon. "Tom, if we wait until
those maddened brutes are up to us they'll fairly sweep ours along
with them, and there's no telling where we'll end up. I think we'd
better follow his advice and tie our mules as strongly as we can.
Then we can go over there by the rocks, and fire at the wild horses.
We may be able to turn them aside."

"Guess that's right," agreed the young inventor after a moment's
thought. "Come on, Ned. Peg out!"

"Peg out! Peg out!" yelled the natives, and then began a lively
scene. Pegging stakes were in readiness, and, attached to the bridle
of each mule was a strong, rawhide rope for tying to the stake. The
pegs were driven deeply into the ground and in a trice the animals
were made fast to them, though they snorted, and tried to pull away
as they heard the neighing of the stampeding animals and saw them
coming on with an irresistible rush.

"Hurry!" begged San Pedro, and hurry Tom, Ned and the others did.
Animal after animal was made fast--that is all but one and that bore
on its back two rather large but light boxes--the contents of the
case which Tom had rescued from the fire in the hold.

"What are you going to do with mule?" asked Ned, as he saw Tom begin
to lead the animal away, the others having been pegged out.

"I'm going to take him over to the rocks with me. I'm not going to
take any chances on this mule getting away with those things in the
boxes. Give me a hand here, and then we'll see what the electric
rifles will do against those horses."

But the one mule which Tom had elected to take with him seemed to
resent being separated from his companions. Bracing his feet well
apart, the animal stubbornly refused to move.

"Come on!" yelled Tom, pulling on the leading rope.

"Bless my porous plaster!" cried Mr. Damon. "You'd better hurry,
Tom! Those wild horses are almost on us!"

"I'm trying to hurry!" replied the young inventor, "but this mule
won't come. Ned, get behind and shove, will you?"

"Not much! I don't want to be kicked."

"Beat him! Strike him! Wait until I get a club!" yelled San Pedro.
"Come, Antonia, Selka, Balaka!" he cried, to several of the natives
who had already started for the sheltering rocks a short distance
away. "Beat the mule for Senor Swift!"

Ned joined Tom at the leading rope, and the two lads tried to pull
the animal along. Mr. Damon rushed over to lend his aid, and San
Pedro, catching up a long stick, was about to bring it down on the
mule's back. Meanwhile the stampeding animals were rushing nearer.

"Hold on dere, Massa Tom!" suddenly called Eradicate. "Yo'-all done
flustered dat mule, dat's what yo' done. Yo'-all am too much excited
'bout him. Be calm! Be calm!"

"Calm! With that bunch of wild animals bearing down on us?" shouted
Tom. "Let's see you be calm, Rad. Come on here, you obstinate
brute!" he cried, straining on the rope.

"Let me do it, Massa Tom. Let me do it," suggested the colored man
hurrying to the balky beast.

Then, as gently as if he was talking to a nervous child, and totally
oblivious to the danger of the approaching horses, Eradicate went up
to the mule's head, rubbed its ears until they pointed naturally
once more, murmured something to it, and then, taking the rope from
Ned and Tom, Eradicate led the mule along toward the rocks as easily
as if there had never been any question about going there.

"For the love of tripe! How did you do it?" asked Tom.

"Bless my peck of oats!" gasped Mr. Damon. "It's a good thing we had
Rad along!"

"All mules am alike," said the colored man with a grin. "An dish
yeah one ain't much different from mah Boomerang. I guess he's a
sorter cousin."

"Come on!" yelled San Pedro. "No time to lose. Make for the rocks!"

Tom, Ned and Mr. Damon sprinted then, and there was need to, for the
foremost of the galloping horses was not a hundred feet away. Then
came Eradicate, leading the mule that had at last consented to
hurry. The natives, with San Pedro, were already at the rocks,
waiting for the white hunters with the deadly electric rifles.

"If they stampede our mules we'll be in a pickle!" murmured Ned.

"I guess those ropes will hold unless they bite them through,"
remarked Tom.

"Yes, they sure hold," cried San Pedro, and indeed one had to shout
now to be heard above the thundering of the horses. Now the tethered
mules were lost to sight in the multitude of the other steeds all
about them.

"Come on, Ned!" yelled Tom, as he sighted his rifle. "Pump it into
them! We must turn them, or they may come over this way, and if they
do it will be all up with us."

"Shoot to kill?" asked Ned, as he drew back the firing lever of his
electric rifle.

"No, only a stunning charge. Those horses are valuable, and there's
no use killing them. All we want to do is to turn them aside."

"That's right," agreed Mr. Damon, forgetting in the excitement of
the moment to bless himself or anything. "We'll only stun them."

The rifles were quickly adjusted to send out a comparatively weak
charge of electricity, and then they were trained on the dense mass
of horses, while the three marksmen began working the firing levers.

At first, though horse after horse fell to the ground, stunned,
there was no appreciable effect on the thousands in the drove. The
poor mules were hidden from sight, though by reason of divisions in
the living stream of animals it could still be told where they were
tethered, and where the horses separated to go past them.
Fortunately the ropes and pegs held.

"Fire faster!" cried Tom. "Shoot across the front of them, and try
to turn them to one side."

From the rocks, behind which the natives and our friends crouched,
there came a steady stream of electric fire. Horse after horse went
down, stunned but not badly hurt, and in a few hours the beasts
would feel no ill effects. The firing was redoubled, and then there
came a break in the steady stream of horseflesh.

Some hesitated and sought to turn back. Others, behind, pressed them
on, and then, as if in fear at the unknown and unseen power that was
laying low animal after animal, the great body, of horses, suddenly
turned at right angles to their course and broke away. There were
now two bodies of the wild runaways, those that had passed the
tethered mules, and those that had swung off. The stampede had been
broken.

"That's the stuff!" cried Tom, jumping up from behind the rocks, and
swinging his hat. "We've turned them."

"And just in time, too," added Ned, as he joined his chum. Then all
the others leaped up, and the sight of the human beings completed
the scare. The stampeding animals swung off more than before, so
that they were nearly doubling back on their own trail. The others
thundered off, and the ground was strewn with unconscious though
unharmed animals.

"One mule gone!" cried San Pedro, hastily counting the still
tethered animals which were wildly tugging at their ropes.

"Never mind," spoke Tom, "it's the one with some of that damaged
bartering stuff I intended for trading. We can afford to lose that.
Rad, is your animal all right?"

"He suah am, Massa Tom. Dish yeah mule am almost as sensible as
Boomerang, ain't yo'?" and Eradicate patted the big animal he was
leading.

"I'll send a man down the trail, and maybe he can pick up the
missing one," said San Pedro, and while the other natives were
quieting the restless mules, one tall black man hastened in the wake
of the retreating horses.

He came back in an hour with the missing animal, that had broken its
tether rope and then, after running along with the wild horses had
evidently dropped out of the drove. Aside from the loss of a small
box, there had been no damage done, and the cavalcade was soon under
way once more, leaving the motionless horses to recover from the
effects of the electricity.

"Bless my saddle pad!" cried Mr. Damon. "I don't think I want to go
through anything like that again."

"Neither do I," agreed Tom. "We are well out of it."

"How much you take for one of them rifles?" asked San Pedro
admiringly.

"Not for sale," answered Tom with a laugh.

They camped in a fertile valley that night, and had a much-needed
rest. As yet Tom had made no inquiries as to the location of giant
land from any of the natives of the villages or towns through which
they passed. He knew as soon as he did begin asking questions, his
own men would hear of it, and they might be frightened if they knew
they were in an expedition the object of which was to capture some
of the tall men.

"We'll just go along for a few days more," said Tom, to Ned, "and
then, when I do spring my surprise, they'll be so far from home that
they won't dare turn back. In a few days I'll begin making
inquiries."

They traveled on for three days more, ever heading north, and coming
more into the warmer climate. The vegetation began to take on a more
tropical look, and finally they reached a region infested with many
wild beasts and monkeys, and with patches of dense jungle on either
side of the narrow trail. Fruits, tropical flowers and birds
abounded.

"I think we're getting there," remarked Tom, on the evening of the
third day after his talk with Ned. "San Pedro says there's quite a
village about half a day's march ahead, and I may learn something
there. I'll know by to-morrow whether we are on the right trail or
not."

The natives were getting supper, and Eradicate was busy with a meal
for the three white hunters. Mr. Damon had strolled down to the bank
of a little stream, and was looking at some small animals like foxes
that had come for their evening drink. They seemed quite fearless.

Suddenly something long, round and thick seemed to drop down out of
a tree close to the odd gentleman. So swift and noiseless was it
that Mr. Damon never noticed it. Then, like a flash something went
around him, and he let out a scream of terror.

San Pedro, who was nearest to him, saw and heard. The next instant
the black muleteer came rushing toward the camp, crying:

"He is caught in a rope! Mr. Damon is caught in a rope!"

"A rope!" repeated Ned. not understanding.

"Yes, a rope in a tree. Come quickly!"

Tom caught up one of the electric rifles and rushed forward. No
sooner had he set eyes on his friend, who was writhing about in the
folds of what looked like a big ship cable, then the young inventor
cried:

"A rope! Yes, a living rope! That's a big boa constrictor that has
Mr. Damon! Get a gun, Ned, and follow me! We must save him before he
is crushed to death!"

And the two lads rushed forward while the living rope drew its folds
tighter and tighter about the unfortunate man.




CHAPTER XII

A NATIVE BATTLE


"Bless my--!" but that was as far as poor Mr. Damon could get. The
breath was fairly squeezed out of him by the folds of the great
serpent that had dropped down out of the tree to crush him to death.
His head fell forward on his breast, and his arms were pinioned to
his sides.

"Quick, Ned!" cried Tom. "We must fire together! Be careful not to
hit Mr. Damon!"

"That's right. I'll take the snake on one side, Tom, and you on the
other!"

"No! Then we might hit each other. Come on my side. Aim for the
head, and throw in the highest charge. We want to kill, not stun!"

"Right!" gasped Ned, as he ran forward at his chum's side.

San Pedro, and the other natives, could do nothing. In the gathering
twilight, broken by the light of several campfires, they stood
helpless watching the two plucky youths advance to do battle with
the serpent. Eradicate had caught up a club, and had dashed forward
to do what he could, but Tom motioned him back.

"We can manage," spoke the young inventor.

Then he and Ned crept on with ready rifles. The snake raised its
ugly head and hissed, ceasing for a moment to constrict its coils
about the unfortunate man.

"Now's our chance--fire!" hoarsely whispered Ned.

It seemed as if the big snake heard, for, raising its head still
higher, it fairly glared at Ned and Tom. It was the very chance they
wanted, for they could now fire without the danger of hitting Mr.
Damon.

"Ready?" asked Tom of his chum in a low voice.

"Ready!" was the equally low answer.

It was necessary to kill the serpent at one shot, as to merely wound
it might mean that in its agony it would thresh about, and seriously
injure, if not kill, Mr. Damon.

"Fire!" called Tom in a whisper, and he and Ned pressed the triggers
of the electric rifles on the same instant.

There was a streak of bluish flame that cut like a sliver through
the gathering darkness, and then, as though a blight had fallen upon
it, the folds of the great snake relaxed, and Mr. Damon slipped to
the ground unconscious. The electric charges had gone fairly through
the head of the serpent and it had died instantly.

"Quick! Mr. Damon! We must get him away!" cried Tom. "He may be
dead!"

Together the chums sprang forward. The folds of the serpent had
scarcely ceased moving before the two youths snatched their friend
away. Dropping their rifles, they lifted him up to bear him to the
sleeping tent which had been erected.

"Liver pin!" suddenly ejaculated Mr. Damon. It was what he started
to say when the serpent had squeezed the breath out of him, and, on
regaining consciousness from his momentary faint, his brain carried
out the suggestion it had originally received.

"How are you?" cried Tom, nearly dropping Mr. Damon's legs in his
excitement, for he had hold of his feet, while Ned was at the head.

"Are you all right?" gasped Ned.

"Yes--I--I guess so. I--I feel as though I had been put through a
clothes wringer though. What happened?"

"A big snake dropped down out of a tree and grabbed you," answered
Tom.

"And then what? Put me down, boys, I guess I can walk."

"We shot it," said Ned modestly.

"Bless my insurance policy!" exclaimed the odd gentleman. "I--I
hardly know what to say. I'll say it later. You saved my life. Let
me see if any bones are broken."

None was, fortunately, and after staggering about a bit Mr. Damon
found that he could limp along. But he was very sore and bruised,
for, though the snake had squeezed him but for part of a minute,
that was long enough. A few seconds more and nearly every bone in
his body would have been crushed, for that is the manner in which a
constrictor snake kills its prey before devouring it.

"Santa Maria! The dear gentleman is not dead then?" cried San Pedro,
as the three approached the tents.

"Bless my name plate, no!" exclaimed Mr. Damon.

"Praise to all the saints! The brave young senors with their
wonderful guns saved him. Now you must rest and sleep."

"I feel as if that was all I wanted to do for a month," commented
Mr. Damon. His soreness and stiffness increased each minute, and he
was glad to get to bed, while the boys and Eradicate rubbed his
limbs with liniment. San Pedro knew of a leaf that grew in the
jungle which, when bruised, and made into poultices, had the
property of drawing out soreness. The next day he found some, and
Mr. Damon was wrapped up in bandages until he declared that he
looked like an Egyptian mummy.

But the leaf poultices did him good, and in a few days he was able
to be about, though he was still a trifle stiff. Of course the
cavalcade had to halt in the woods, but they did not mind this as
they had traveled well up to this time, and the enforced rest was
appreciated.

"Well, do you feel able to move along?" asked Tom of Mr. Damon one
morning, about a week later, for they were still in the "snake
camp," as they called it in memory of the big serpent.

"Oh, yes, I think so, Tom. Where are you going?"

"I want to push on to the next village. There I hope to get some
line on giant land, and really I ought to begin making inquiries
soon. San Pedro and the others are wondering what our object is, for
we haven't collected any specimens of either flowers or animals, or
the snake skin, and he thinks we are a sort of scientific
expedition."

"Well, let's travel then. I'm able."

So they started off once more along the jungle and forest trail. As
San Pedro had predicted, they came upon evidences of a native
village. Scattered huts, made of plastered mud and grass, with
thatched roofs of palm leaves, were met with, as they advanced, but
none of the places seemed to be inhabited, though rude gardens
around them showed that they had been the homes of natives up to
recently.

"No one seems to be at home," remarked Tom, when they had gone past
perhaps half a dozen of these lonely huts.

"I wonder what can be the matter?" asked Ned. "It looks as if they
had gone off in a hurry, too. Maybe there's been some sort of
epidemic."

"No, no sickness," said San Pedro. "Natives no sick."

"Bless my liver pill!" cried Mr. Damon, who was almost himself
again. "Then what is it?"

"Much fight, maybe."

"Much fight?" repeated Tom.

"Yes, tribes at war. Maybe natives go away so as not be killed."

"By Jove!" exclaimed the young inventor. "That's so. I forgot about
what Mr. Preston said. There's a native war going on around here.
Well, when we get to the town we can find out more about it, and
steer clear of the two armies, if we have to."

But as they went farther on, the evidences of a native war became
more pronounced. They passed several huts that had been burned, and
the native mule drivers began showing signs of fear.

"I don't like this," murmured Tom to his chum. "It looks bad."

"What can you do?"

"Nothing, I guess. We've got to keep on. No use turning back now.
Maybe the two rival forces have annihilated each other, and there
aren't any fighters left."

At that moment there arose a cry from some of the natives who, with
the mules and their burdens, had pressed on ahead.

"What's that?" exclaimed Tom.

"Something's happened!" gasped Ned.

"Bless my cartridge box!" cried Mr. Damon.

The three went forward and came to a little hill. They looked down
into a valley--a valley that had sheltered a native village, but the
village was no more. It was but a heap of blackened and fire-scarred
ruins, and there were still clouds of smoke arising from the grass
huts, showing that the enemy had but recently made their assault on
the place.

"Bless my heart!" cried Mr. Damon. "The whole place has been wiped
out."

"Not one hut left," added Ned.

"Hark!" cried Tom.

An instant later there arose, off in the woods, a chorus of wild
yells. It was followed by the weird sound of tom-toms and the gourd
and skin drums of the natives. The shouting noise increased, and the
sound of the war drums also.

"Look!" cried Mr. Damon, pointing to a distant hill, and there the
boys saw two large bodies of natives rushing toward one another,
brandishing spears, clubs and the deadly blow guns.

They were not more than half a mile away, and in plain view of Tom
and his party, though the two forces had not yet seen our friends.

"They're going to fight!" cried Tom.

And the next moment the two bodies of natives came together in a
mass, the enemies hurling themselves at each other with the
eagerness and ferocity of wild beasts. It was a deadly battle.




CHAPTER XIII

THE DESERTION


"Say, look at those fellows pitch into one another!" gasped Ned.

"It's fighting at close range all right," commented Mr. Damon.

"If they had rifles they wouldn't be at it hand to hand," spoke Tom.
"Maybe it's just as well they haven't, for there won't be so many
killed. But say, we'd better be thinking of ourselves. They may make
up their quarrel and turn against us any minute."

"No--never--no danger of them being friends--they are rival tribes,"
said San Pedro. "But either one may attack us--the one that is the
victor. It is better that we keep away."

"I guess you're right," agreed Tom. "Lead the way, San Pedro, and
we'll get out of sight."

But there was a fascination in watching the distant battle that was
hard to resist. It was like looking at a moving picture, for at that
distance none of the horrors of war were visible. True, natives went
down by scores, and it was not to be doubted but what they were
killed or injured, but it seemed more like a big football scrimmage
than a fight.

"This is great!" cried Tom. "I like to watch it, but I'm sorry for
the poor chaps that get hurt or killed. I hope they're only stunned
as we stunned the wild horses."

"I'm afraid it is more serious than that," spoke San Pedro. "These
natives are very bloodthirsty. It would not be well for us to incur
their anger."

"We won't run any chances," decided Tom. "We'll just travel on. Come
on, Ned--Mr. Damon."

As he spoke there was a sudden victorious shout from the scene of
the battle. One body of natives was seen to turn and flee, while the
others pursued them.

"Now's our time to make tracks!" called Tom. "We'll have to push on
to the next village before we can ask where the gi--" he caught
himself just in time, for San Pedro was looking curiously at him.

"The senor wishes to find something?" asked the head mule driver
with an insinuating smile.

"Yes," broke in Eradicate. "We all is lookin' fo' some monstrous
giant orchards flowers."

"Ah, yes, orchids," spoke San Pedro. "Well, there may be some in the
jungle ahead of us, but the senors have come the wrong trail for
flowers," and he looked curiously at Tom, while, from afar, come the
sound of the native battle though the combatants could no longer be
seen.

"Never mind," said our hero quickly. "I guess I'll find what I want.
Now come on."

They started off, skirting the burned village to get on the trail
beyond it. But hardly had they made a detour of the burned huts than
one of the native drivers, who was in the rear, came riding up with
a shout.

"Now what's the matter?" cried Tom, looking back.

There was a voluble chattering in Spanish between the driver and San