CHAPTER XV
LIONS IN THE NIGHT
Shouting, screaming, imploring their deities in general, and thewhite men in particular for protection, the band of frightenednatives broke and ran through the jungle, caring little where theywent so long as they escaped the awful terror of the pursuing herdof maddened elephants. Behind them came Tom Swift and the others,for it were folly to stop in the path of the infuriated brutes.
"Our only chance is to get on their flank and try to turn them!"yelled Mr. Durban. "We may beat them in getting to the clearing, forthe trail is narrow. Run, everybody!"
No one needed his excited advice to cause them to hurry. Theyscudded along, Mr. Damon's cap falling off in his haste. But he didnot stop to pick it up.
The hunters had one advantage. They were on a narrow but well-clearedtrail through the jungle, which led from the village where theywere encamped, to another, several miles away. This trail wastoo small for the elephants, and, indeed, had to be taken in singlefile by the travelers.
But it prevented the elephants making the same speed as did ourfriends, for the jungle, at this point, consisted of heavy trees,which halted the progress of even the strongest of the powerfulbeasts. True, they could force aside the frail underbrush and thesmall trees, but the others impeded their progress.
"We'll get there ahead of them!" cried Tom. "Have you got your riflein working order yet, Mr. Durban?"
"No, something has broken, I fear. We'll have to depend on yourelectric gun, Tom. Have you many charges left?"
"A dozen or so. But Ned and the others have plenty of ammunition."
"Don't count--on--me!" panted Mr. Damon, who was well-nighbreathless from the run. "I--can't--aim--straight--any--more!"
"I'll give 'em a few more bullets!" declared Mr. Anderson.
The fleeing natives were now almost lost to sight, for they couldtravel through the jungle, ignoring the trail, at high speed. Theywere almost like snakes or animals in this respect. Their onethought was to get to their village, and, if possible, protect theirhuts and fields of grain from annihilation by the elephants.
Behind our friends, trumpeting, bellowing and crashing came thepachyderms. They seemed to be gaining, and Tom, looking back, sawone big brute emerge upon the trail, and follow that.
"I've got to stop him, or some of the others will do the same,"thought the young inventor. He halted and fired quickly. Theelephant seemed to melt away, and Tom with regret, saw a pair offine tusks broken to bits. "I used too heavy a charge," he murmured,as he took up the retreat again.
In a few minutes the party of hunters, who were now playing more inthe role of the hunted, came out into the open. They could hear thenatives beating on their big hollow tree drums, and on tom-toms,while the witch-doctors and medicine men were chanting weird songsto drive the elephants away.
But the beasts came on. One by one they emerged from the jungle,until the herd was gathered together again in a compact mass. Then,under the leadership of some big bulls, they advanced. It seemed asif they knew what they were doing, and were determined to revengethemselves by trampling the natives' huts under their ponderousfeet.
But Tom and the others were not idle. Taking a position off to oneside, the young inventor began pouring a fusillade of the electricbullets into the mass of slate-colored bodies. Mr. Anderson was alsofiring, and Ned, who had gotten over some of his excitement, wasalso doing execution. Mr. Durban, after vainly trying to get hisrifle to work, cast it aside. "Here! Let me take your gun!" he criedto Mr. Damon, who, panting from the run, was sitting beneath a tree.
"Bless my cartridge belt! Take it and welcome!" assented theeccentric man. It still had several shots in the magazine, and thesethe old hunter used with good effect.
At first it seemed as if the elephants could not be turned back.They kept on rushing toward the village, which was not far away, andTom and the others followed at one side, as best they could, firingrapidly. The electric rifle did fearful execution.
Emboldened by the fear that all their possessions would be destroyeda body of the natives rushed out, right in front of the elephants,and beat tom-toms and drums, almost under their feet, at the sametime singing wild songs.
"I'm afraid we can't stop them!" muttered Mr. Anderson. "We'd betterhurry to the airship, and protect that, Tom."
But, almost as he spoke, the tide of battle turned. The elephantssuddenly swung about, and began a retreat. They could not stand thehot fire of the four guns, including Tom's fearful weapon. With wildtrumpetings they fled back into the jungle, leaving a number oftheir dead behind.
"A close call," murmured Tom, as he drew a breath of relief. Indeedthis was true, for the tide had turned when the foremost elephantswere not a hundred feet away from the first rows of native huts.
"I should say it was," agreed Ned Newton, wiping his face with hishandkerchief. He, as well as the others, was an odd-looking sight.They were blackened by powder smoke, scratched by briars, and redfrom exertion.
"But we got more ivory in this hour than I could have secured in aweek of ordinary hunting," declared Mr. Durban. "If this keeps up wewon't have to get much more, except that I don't think any of thetusks to-day are large enough for the special purpose of mycustomer."
"The sooner we get enough ivory the quicker we can go to the rescueof the missionaries," said Mr. Anderson.
"That's so," remarked Tom. "We must not forget the red pygmies."
The natives were now dancing about, wild in delight at the prospectof unlimited eating, and also thankful for what the white men haddone for them. Alone, the blacks would never have been able to stopthe stampede. They were soon busy cutting up the elephants ready fora big feast, and runners were sent to tell neighboring tribes, inadjoining villages, of the delights awaiting them.
Mr. Durban gave instructions about saving the ivory tusks, and thevaluable teeth, each pair worth about $1,000, were soon cut out andput away for our friends. Some had been lost by the excessive powerof Tom's gun, but this could not be helped. It was necessary to stopthe rush at any price.
There was soon a busy scene at the native village, and with thearrival of other tribesmen it seemed as if Bedlam had broken loose.The blacks chattered like so many children as they prepared for thefeast.
"Do white men ever eat elephant meat?" asked Mr. Damon, as theadventurers were gathered about the airship.
"Indeed they do," declared Mr. Durban. "Baked elephant foot is adelicacy that few appreciate. I'll have the natives cook some forus."
He gave the necessary orders, and the travelers had to admit that itwas worth coming far to get.
For the next few days and nights there was great feasting in thatAfrican village, and the praises of the white men, and power of TomSwift's electric rifle, were sung loud and long.
Our friends had resumed work on repairing the airship, and the younginventor declared, one night, that they could proceed the next day.
They were seated around a small campfire, watching the dancing andantics of some natives who were at their usual work of eating meat.All about our friends were numerous blazes for the cooking of thefeasts, and some were on the very edge of the jungle.
Suddenly, above the uncouth sounds of the merry-making, there washeard a deep vibration and roar, not unlike the distant rumble ofthunder or the hum of a great steamer's whistle heard afar in thefog.
"What's that?" cried Ned.
"Lions," said Mr. Durban briefly. "They have been attracted by thesmell of cooking."
At that moment, and instantly following a very loud roar, there wasan agonized scream of pain and terror. It sounded directly in backof the airship.
"A lion!" cried Mr. Anderson. "One of the brutes has grabbed anative!"
Tom Swift caught up his rifle, and darted off toward the darkjungle.
Tom Swift and His Electric Rifle; Or, Daring Adventures in Elephant Land Page 15
