CHAPTER XII
A NATIVE BATTLE
"Bless my--!" but that was as far as poor Mr. Damon could get. Thebreath was fairly squeezed out of him by the folds of the greatserpent 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 tohis sides.
"Quick, Ned!" cried Tom. "We must fire together! Be careful not tohit Mr. Damon!"
"That's right. I'll take the snake on one side, Tom, and you on theother!"
"No! Then we might hit each other. Come on my side. Aim for thehead, 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 gatheringtwilight, broken by the light of several campfires, they stoodhelpless watching the two plucky youths advance to do battle withthe serpent. Eradicate had caught up a club, and had dashed forwardto 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 itsugly head and hissed, ceasing for a moment to constrict its coilsabout the unfortunate man.
"Now's our chance--fire!" hoarsely whispered Ned.
It seemed as if the big snake heard, for, raising its head stillhigher, it fairly glared at Ned and Tom. It was the very chance theywanted, 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 woundit might mean that in its agony it would thresh about, and seriouslyinjure, if not kill, Mr. Damon.
"Fire!" called Tom in a whisper, and he and Ned pressed the triggersof the electric rifles on the same instant.
There was a streak of bluish flame that cut like a sliver throughthe gathering darkness, and then, as though a blight had fallen uponit, the folds of the great snake relaxed, and Mr. Damon slipped tothe ground unconscious. The electric charges had gone fairly throughthe head of the serpent and it had died instantly.
"Quick! Mr. Damon! We must get him away!" cried Tom. "He may bedead!"
Together the chums sprang forward. The folds of the serpent hadscarcely ceased moving before the two youths snatched their friendaway. Dropping their rifles, they lifted him up to bear him to thesleeping tent which had been erected.
"Liver pin!" suddenly ejaculated Mr. Damon. It was what he startedto say when the serpent had squeezed the breath out of him, and, onregaining consciousness from his momentary faint, his brain carriedout the suggestion it had originally received.
"How are you?" cried Tom, nearly dropping Mr. Damon's legs in hisexcitement, 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 aclothes wringer though. What happened?"
"A big snake dropped down out of a tree and grabbed you," answeredTom.
"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--Ihardly know what to say. I'll say it later. You saved my life. Letme see if any bones are broken."
None was, fortunately, and after staggering about a bit Mr. Damonfound 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 inhis body would have been crushed, for that is the manner in which aconstrictor 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 theirwonderful guns saved him. Now you must rest and sleep."
"I feel as if that was all I wanted to do for a month," commentedMr. Damon. His soreness and stiffness increased each minute, and hewas glad to get to bed, while the boys and Eradicate rubbed hislimbs with liniment. San Pedro knew of a leaf that grew in thejungle which, when bruised, and made into poultices, had theproperty of drawing out soreness. The next day he found some, andMr. Damon was wrapped up in bandages until he declared that helooked like an Egyptian mummy.
But the leaf poultices did him good, and in a few days he was ableto be about, though he was still a trifle stiff. Of course thecavalcade had to halt in the woods, but they did not mind this asthey had traveled well up to this time, and the enforced rest wasappreciated.
"Well, do you feel able to move along?" asked Tom of Mr. Damon onemorning, about a week later, for they were still in the "snakecamp," 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 someline on giant land, and really I ought to begin making inquiriessoon. San Pedro and the others are wondering what our object is, forwe haven't collected any specimens of either flowers or animals, orthe snake skin, and he thinks we are a sort of scientificexpedition."
"Well, let's travel then. I'm able."
So they started off once more along the jungle and forest trail. AsSan Pedro had predicted, they came upon evidences of a nativevillage. Scattered huts, made of plastered mud and grass, withthatched roofs of palm leaves, were met with, as they advanced, butnone of the places seemed to be inhabited, though rude gardensaround them showed that they had been the homes of natives up torecently.
"No one seems to be at home," remarked Tom, when they had gone pastperhaps half a dozen of these lonely huts.
"I wonder what can be the matter?" asked Ned. "It looks as if theyhad gone off in a hurry, too. Maybe there's been some sort ofepidemic."
"No, no sickness," said San Pedro. "Natives no sick."
"Bless my liver pill!" cried Mr. Damon, who was almost himselfagain. "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 aboutwhat 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, andsteer clear of the two armies, if we have to."
But as they went farther on, the evidences of a native war becamemore pronounced. They passed several huts that had been burned, andthe 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 therearen't any fighters left."
At that moment there arose a cry from some of the natives who, withthe 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 downinto a valley--a valley that had sheltered a native village, but thevillage was no more. It was but a heap of blackened and fire-scarredruins, and there were still clouds of smoke arising from the grasshuts, showing that the enemy had but recently made their assault onthe place.
"Bless my heart!" cried Mr. Damon. "The whole place has been wipedout."
"Not one hut left," added Ned.
"Hark!" cried Tom.
An instant later there arose, off in the woods, a chorus of wildyells. It was followed by the weird sound of tom-toms and the gourdand skin drums of the natives. The shouting noise increased, and thesound of the war drums also.
"Look!" cried Mr. Damon, pointing to a distant hill, and there theboys 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 Tomand 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 amass, the enemies hurling themselves at each other with theeagerness and ferocity of wild beasts. It was a deadly battle.
Tom Swift in Captivity, Or, A Daring Escape By Airship Page 12
