Tom Swift and His Electric Rifle

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"Bless my multiplication tables!" cried Mr. Damon. "What a mob of
them!"

"Almost too many!" murmured Tom Swift, who was rapidly firing his
electric rifle at them. "We can never hope to drive them back, I'm
afraid."

Indeed from every side of the plain, and even from the depths of the
jungle the red dwarfs were now pouring. They yelled most horribly,
screaming in rage, brandishing their spears and clubs, and keeping
up an incessant fire of big arrows from their bows, and smaller ones
from the blowguns.

As yet none of our friends had been hit, for they were sheltered in
the airship, and as the windows were covered with a mesh of wire, to
keep out insects, this also served to prevent the arrows from
entering. There were loopholes purposely made to allow the rifles to
be thrust out.

Mercifully, Tom and the others fired only to disable, and not to
kill the red pygmies. Wounded in the arms or legs, the little
savages would be incapable of fighting, and this plan was followed.
But so fierce were they that some, who were wounded twice, still
kept up the attack.

Tom's electric rifle was well adapted for this work, as he could
regulate the charge to merely stun, no matter at what part of the
body it was directed. So he could fire indiscriminintly, whereas the
others had to aim carefully. And Tom's fire was most effective. He
disabled scores of the red imps, but scores of others sprang up to
take their places.

After their first rush the pygmies had fallen back before the well-
directed fire of our friends, but as their chiefs and head men urged
them to the attack again, they came back with still fiercer energy.
Some, more bold than the others, even leaped to the deck of the
airship, and tried to tear the screens from the windows. They partly
succeeded, and in one casement from which Ned was firing they made a
hole.

Into this they shot a flight of arrows, and one slightly wounded the
bank clerk on the arm. The wound was at once treated with
antiseptics, after the window had been barricaded, and Ned declared
that he was ready to renew the fight. Tom, too, got an arrow scratch
on the neck, and one of the barbs entered Mr. Durban's leg, but the
sturdy elephant hunter would not give up, and took his place again
after the wound had been bandaged.

From time to time as he worked his electric gun, which had been
charged to its utmost capacity, Tom glanced at the hut where the
missionaries were prisoners. There was no movement noticed about it,
and no sound came from it. Tom wondered what had happened inside--he
wondered what was happening as the battle progressed.

Fiercely the fight was kept up. Now the red imps would be driven
back, and again they would swarm about the airship, until it seemed
as if they must overwhelm it. Then the fire of the white adventurers
was redoubled. The electric rifle did great work, and Tom did not
have to stop and refill the magazine, as did the others.

Suddenly, above the noise of the conflict, Tom Swift heard an
ominous sound. It was a hissing in the air, and well he knew what it
was.

"The gas bag!" he cried. "They've punctured it! The vapor is
escaping. If they put too many holes in the bag it will be all up
with us!"

"What's to be done?" asked Mr. Durban.

"If we can't drive them back we must retreat ourselves!" declared
Tom desperately. "Our only hope is to keep the airship safe from
harm."

Once more came a rush of the savages. They had discovered that the
gas bag was vulnerable, and were directing their arrows against
that. It was punctured in several more places. The gas was rapidly
escaping.

"We've got to retreat!" yelled Tom. He hurried to the engine-room,
and turned on the power. The great propellers revolved, and sent the
Black Hawk scudding across the level plain. With yells of surprise
the red dwarfs scattered arid made way for it.

Up into the air it mounted on the broad wings. For the time being
our friends has been driven back, and the missionaries whom they had
come to rescue were still in the hands of the savages.

CHAPTER XXII

A NIGHT ATTACK

"Well, what's to be done?"

Tom Swift asked that question.

"Bless my percussion cap! They certainly are the very worst imps for
fighting that I ever heard of," commented Mr. Damon helplessly.

"Is the gas bag much punctured?" asked Ned Newton.

"Wait a minute," resumed the young inventor, as he pulled the speed
lever a trifle farther over, thereby sending the craft forward more
swiftly, "I think my question ought to be answered first. What's to
be done? Are we going to run away, and leave that man and woman to
their fate?"

"Of course not!" declared Mr. Durban stoutly, "but we couldn't stay
there, and have them destroy the airship."

"No, that's so," admitted Tom, "if we lost the airship it would be
all up with us and our chances of rescuing the missionaries. But
what can we do? I hate to retreat!"

"But what else is there left for us?" demanded Ned.

"Nothing, of course. But we've got to plan to get the best of those
red pygmies. We can't go back in the airship, and give them open
battle. There are too many of them, and, by Jove! I believe more are
coming every minute!"

Tom and the others looked down. From all sides of the plain,
hastening toward the village of mud huts, from which our friends
were retreating, could be seen swarms of the small but fierce
savages. They were coming from the jungle, and were armed with war
clubs, bows and arrows and the small but formidable blowguns.

"Where are they coming from?" asked Mr. Damon.

"From the surrounding tribes," explained Mr. Durban. "They have been
summoned to do battle against us."

"But how did the ones we fought get word to the others so soon?" Ned
demanded.

"Oh, they have ways of signaling," explained Mr. Anderson. "They can
make the notes of some of their hollow-tree drums carry a long
distance, and then they are very swift runners, and can penetrate
into the jungle along paths that a white man would hardly see. They
also use the smoke column as a signal, as our own American Indians
used to do. Oh, they can summon all their tribesmen to the fight,
and they probably will. Likely the sound of our guns attracted the
imps, though if we all had electric rifles like Tom's they wouldn't
make any noise."

"Well, my rifle didn't appear to do so very much good this tune,"
observed the young inventor, as he stopped the forward motion of the
ship now, and let it hover over the plain in sight of the village,
the gas bag serving to sustain the craft, and there was little wind
to cause it to drift. "Those fellows didn't seem to mind being hurt
and killed any more than if mosquitoes were biting them."

"The trouble is we need a whole army, armed with electric rifles to
make a successful attack," said Mr. Durban. "There are swarms of
them there now, and more coming every minute. I do hope Mr. and Mrs.
Illingway are alive yet."

"Yes," added Mr. Anderson solemnly, "we must hope for the best. But,
like Tom Swift, I ask, what's to be done?"

"Bless my thinking cap!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "It seems to me if we
can't fight them openly in the daytime, there's only one other thing
to do."

"What's that?" asked Tom. "Go away? I'll not do it!"

"No, not go away," exclaimed Mr. Damon, "but make a night attack. We
ought to be able to do something then, and with your illuminating
rifle, Tom, we'd have an advantage! What do you say?"

"I say it's the very thing!" declared Tom, with sudden enthusiasm.
"We'll attack them to-night, when they're off their guard, and we'll
see if we can't get the missionaries out of that hut. And to better
fool the savages, we'll just disappear now, and make 'em believe
we've flown away."

"Then the missionaries will think we're deserting them," objected
Mr. Anderson.

But there was no help for it, and so Tom once more turned on the
power and the craft sailed away.

Tomba, the faithful black, begged to be allowed to go down, and tell
his master and mistress that help would soon be at hand again, even
though it looked like a retreat on the part of the rescuers, but
this could not he permitted.

"They'd tear you in pieces as soon as you got among those red imps,"
said Tom. "You stay here, Tomba, and you can help us to-night."

"A'right, me glad help lick red fellows," said the black, with as
cheerful a grin as he could summon.

The Black Hawk circled around, with Tom and the others looking for a
good place to land. They were out of sight of the village now but
did not doubt but that they were observed by the keen eyes of the
little men.

"We want to pick out a place where they won't come upon us as we
descend," declared Tom. "We've got to mend some leaks in the gas
bag, for, while they are not serious, if we get any more punctures
they may become so. So we've got to pick out a good place to go
down."

Finally, by means of powerful glasses, a desolate part of the jungle
was selected. No files of the red dwarfs, coming from their
scattered villages to join their tribesmen, had been noted in the
vicinity picked out, and it was hoped that it would answer. Slowly
the airship settled to earth, coming to rest in a thick grove of
trees, where there was an opening just large enough to allow the
Black Hawk to enter.

Our friends were soon busy repairing the leaks in the bag, while Mr.
Damon got a meal ready. As they ate they talked over plans for the
night attack.

It was decided to wait until it was about two o'clock in the
morning, as at that hour the dwarfs were most generally asleep,
Tomba said. They always stayed up quite late, sitting around camp-
fires, and eating the meat which the hunters brought in each day.
But their carousings generally ended at midnight, the black said,
and then they fell into a heavy sleep. They did not post guards, but
since they knew of the presence of the white men in the airship,
they might do it this time.

"Well, we've got to take our chance," decided Tom. "We'll start off
from here about one o'clock, and I'll send the ship slowly along.
We'll get right over the hut where the captives are, if possible,
and then descend. I'll manage the ship, and one of you can work the
electric rifle if they attack us. We'll make a dash, get Mr. and
Mrs. Illingway from the hut, and make a quick get-away."

It sounded good, and they were impatient to put it into operation.
That afternoon Tom and his friends went carefully over every inch of
their craft, to repair it and have it in perfect working order. Guns
were cleaned, and plenty of ammunition laid out. Then, shortly after
one o'clock in the morning the ship was sent up, and with the
searchlight ready to be turned on instantly, and with his electric
rifle near at hand, Tom Swift guided his craft on to the attack.
Soon they could see the glow of dying fires in the dwarfs' village,
but no sound came from the sleeping hordes of red imps.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE RESCUE

"Can you make out the hut, Tom?" asked Ned, as he stood at his
chum's side in the steering tower, and gazed downward on the silent
village.

"Not very clearly. Suppose you take a look through the night-
glasses. Maybe you'll have better luck."

Ned peered long and earnestly.

"No, I can't see a thing." he said. "It all looks to be a confused
jumble of huts. I can't tell one from the other. We'll have to go
lower."

"I don't want to do that," objected Tom. "If this attack succeeds at
all, it will have to be sharp and quick. If we go down where they
can spot us, and work our way up to the hut where the captives are,
we'll run the chance of an attack that may put us out of business."

"Yes, we ought to get right over the hut, and then make a sudden
swoop down," admitted Ned, "but if we can't see it--"

"I have it!" cried Tom suddenly. "Tomba! That African can see in the
dark like a cat. Why, just before we started I dropped a wrench, and
I didn't have any matches handy to look for it. I was groping around
in the dark trying to get my hands on it, and you know it was pretty
black in the jungle. Well, along come Tomba. and he spotted it at
once and picked it up. We'll call him here and get him to point out
the hut. He can tell me how to steer."

"Good!" cried Ned, and the black was soon standing in the pilot
house. He comprehended what was wanted of him, and peered down,
seeking to penetrate the darkness.

"Shall I go down a little lower?" asked Tom.

For a moment Tomba did not answer. Then be uttered an exclamation of
pleasure.

"Me see hut!" he said, clutching Tom's arm. "Down dere!" He pointed,
but neither Tom nor Ned could see it. However, as Tomba was now
giving directions, telling Tom when to go to the left or the right,
as the wind currents deflected they were certain of soon reaching
the place where Mr. and Mrs. Illingway were concealed, if they were
still alive.

The Black Hawk was moving slowly, and was not under as good control
as if she had been making ninety miles an hour. As it was desired to
proceed as quietly as possible, the craft was being used as a
dirigible balloon, and the propellers were whirled around by means
of a small motor, worked by a storage battery. While not much power
was obtained this way, there was the advantage of silence, which was
very necessary. Slowly the Black Hawk sailed on through the night.
In silence the adventurers waited for the moment of action. They had
their weapons in readiness. Mr. Durban was to work the electric
rifle, as all Tom's attention would be needed at the machinery. As
soon as the craft had made a landing he was to leap out, carrying a
revolver in either hand, and, followed by Tomba, would endeavor to
gain entrance to the hut, break through the flimsy grass-woven
curtain over the doorway, and get Mr. and Mrs. Illingway out. Ned,
Mr. Damon and the other two men would stand by to fire on the red
pygmies as soon as they commenced the attack, which they would
undoubtedly do as soon as the guards of the captives raised the
alarm.

The airship was in darkness, for it would have been dangerous to
show a light. Some wakeful dwarf might see the moving illumination
in the sky, and raise a cry.

"Mos' dere," announced Tomba at length. And then, for the first
time, Ned and Tom had a glimpse of the hut. It stood away from the
others, and was easy to pick out in daylight, but even the darkness
offered no handicap to Tomba. "Right over him now," he suddenly
called, as he leaned out of the pilot house window, and looked down.
"Right over place. Oh, Tomba glad when he see Missy an' Massy!"

"Yes, I hope you do see them," murmured Tom, as he pulled the lever
which would pump the gas from the inflated bag, and compress it into
tanks, until it was needed again to make the ship rise. Slowly the
Black Hawk sank down.

"Get ready!" called Tom in a low voice.

It was a tense moment. Every one of the adventurers felt it, and all
but Tom grasped their weapons with tighter grips. They were ready to
spring out as soon as a landing was made. Tom managed the machinery
in the dark, for he knew every wheel, gear and lever, and could have
put his hand on any one with his eyes shut. The two loaded revolvers
were on a shelf in front of him. The side door of the pilot house
was ajar, to allow him quick egress.

Tomba, armed with a big club he had picked up in the jungle, was
ready to follow. The black was eager for the fray to begin, though
how he and the others would fare amid the savages was hard to say.

Still not a sound broke the quiet. It was very dark, for nearly all
the camp fires, over which the nightly feast had been prepared, were
out. The hut could be dimly made out, however.

Suddenly there was a slight tremor through the ship. She seemed to
shiver, and bound upward a little.

"We've landed!" whispered Tom. "Now for it! Come on, Tomba!"

The big black glided after the lad like a shadow. With his two
weapons held in readiness our hero went out on deck. The others,
with cocked rifles, stood ready for the attack to open. It had been
decided that as soon as the first alarm was given by the dwarfs,
which would probably be when Tom broke into the hut, the firing
would begin.

"Open!" called Tom to Tomba, and the big black dashed his club
through the grass curtain over the doorway of the hut. He fairly
leaped inside, with a cry of battle on his lips.

"Mr. Illingway! Mrs. Illingway!" called Tom, "We've come to save
you. Hurry out. The airship is just outside!"

He fired one shot through the roof of the hut, so that the flash
would reveal to him whether or not the two missionaries were in the
place. He saw two forms rise up in front of him, and knew that they
were the white captives he had observed daring the former attack.

"Oh, what is it?" he heard the woman ask.

"A rescue! Thank the dear Lord!" answered her husband fervently.
"Oh, whoever you are, God bless you!"

"Come quickly!" cried Tom, "we haven't a moment to lose!"

He was speaking to absolute blackness now, for it was darker
immediately following the revolver flash than before. But he felt a
man's hand thrust about his arm, and he knew it was Mr. Illingway.

"Take your wife's hand, and follow me," ordered Tom. "Come, Tomba!
Are there any of the red pygmies in here?"

He had not seen any at the weapon's flash, but his question was
answered a moment later, for there arose from within and without the
hut a chorus of wild yells. At the same time Tom felt small arms
grasp him about the legs.

"Come on!" he yelled. "They're awake and after us!"

The din outside increased. Tom heard the rifles of his friends
crack. He saw, through the torn door curtain, the flashes of fire.
Then came a blue glare, and Tom knew that Mr. Durban was using the
electric weapon.

By these intermittent gleams Tom managed to see sufficiently to
thrust Mr. and Mrs. Illingway ahead of him. Tomba was at their side.
The yells inside the hut were almost deafening. All the red dwarfs
left to guard the captives had awakened, and they could see well
enough to attack Tom. Fortunately they had no weapons, but they
fairly threw themselves upon the sturdy lad, trying to pull him
down.

"Go on! Go on!" he yelled to the captives, fairly pushing them
along. Then, knowing they were out of the way, he turned and fired
his two revolvers as fast as he could pull the triggers, into the
very faces of the red imps who were seeking to drag him down. Again
and again he fired, until he had emptied both cylinders of his
weapons.

He felt the grasps of the fiendish little men relax one by one. Tom
finally dragged himself loose, and staggered out of the hut. The
captives and Tomba were right in front of him. At the airship, which
loomed up in the flashes from the guns and electric rifle, Tom's
friends were giving battle. About them swarmed the hordes of
savages, with more of the imps pouring in every moment.

"Get aboard!" cried Tom to the missionaries. "Get on the airship,
and we'll move out of this!"

He felt a stinging pain in his neck, where an arrow struck him. He
tore the arrow out, and rushed forward. Fairly pushing Mr. and Mrs.
Illingway up on deck before him, Tom followed. Tomba was capering
about his master and mistress, and he swung his big club savagely.
He had not been idle, and many a red imp had gone down under his
blows.

"Rescued! Rescued!" murmured Mr. Illingway, as Tom hastened to the
pilot house to start the motor.

CHAPTER XXIV

TWO OTHER CAPTIVES

But the rescue was not yet accomplished. Those on the airship were
still in danger, and grave peril, for all about them were the red
savages, shouting, howling, yelling and capering about, as they were
now thoroughly aroused, and realized that their captives had been
taken away from them. They determined to get them back, and were
rallying desperately to battle. Nearly all of them were armed by
this time, and flight after flight of spears and arrows were thrown
or shot toward the airship.

Fortunately it was too dark to enable the pygmies to take good aim.
They were guided, to an extent, by the flashes of fire from the
rifles, but these were only momentary. Still some of our friends
received slight wounds, for they stood on the open deck of the
craft.

"Bless my eye-glasses!" suddenly exclaimed Mr. Damon. "I'm stuck!"

"Don't mind that!" advised Ned. "Keep on pouring lead into them.
We'll soon be away from here!"

"Don't fire any more!" called Mr. Durban. "The gun-flashes tell them
where to shoot. I'll use the electric rifle. It's better."

They followed his advice, and put aside their weapons. By means of
the electric flash, which he projected into the midst of the
savages, without the glare coming on the airship, Mr. Durban was
able to tell where to aim. Once he had a mass of red pygmies
located, he could keep on shooting charge after charge into their
midst.

"Use it full power!" called Tom, as he opened the gas machine to its
widest capacity, so the bag would quickly fill, and the craft be
sent forward, for it was so dark, and the ground near the huts so
uneven, that the Black Hawk could not rise as an aeroplane.

The elephant hunter turned on full strength in the electric gun and
the wireless bullets were sent into the midst of the attackers. The
result was surprising. They were so closely packed together that
when one was hit the electrical shock was sent through his nearly
naked body into the naked bodies of his tribesmen who pressed on
every side of him. In consequence whole rows of the savages went
down at a time, disabled from fighting any more.

Meanwhile Tom was working frantically to hasten the rising of the
airship. His neck pained him very much where the arrow had struck
him, but he dared not stop now to dress the wound. He could feel the
blood running down his side, but he shut his teeth grimly and said
nothing.

The two missionaries, scarcely able to believe that they were to be
saved, had been shown into an inner cabin by Tomba, who had become
somewhat used to the airship by this time, and who could find his
way about well in the dark, for no lights had yet been turned on.

Hundreds of pygmies had been disabled, yet still others came to take
their places. The gas bag was again punctured in several places, but
the rents were small, and Tom knew that he could make the gas faster
than it could escape, unless the bag was ripped open.

"They're climbing up the sides!" suddenly called Ned Newton, for he
saw several of the little men clambering up. "What shall we do?"

"Pound their fingers!" called Mr. Anderson. "Get clubs and whack
them!" It was good advice. Ned remembered on one occasion when he
and Tom were looking at Andy Foger's airship, how this method had
been proposed when the bank clerk hung on the back fence. As he
grabbed up a stick, and proceeded to pound the hands and bare arms
of the savages who were clinging to the railing, Ned found himself
wondering what had become of the bully. He was to see Andy sooner
than he expected.

Suddenly in the midst of the fighting, which was now a hand-to-hand
conflict, there was a tremor throughout the length of the airship.

"She's going up!" yelled Ned.

"Bless my check-book!" cried Mr. Damon, "if we don't look out some
of these red imps will go up with us, too!"

As he spoke he whacked vigorously at the hands of several of the
pygmies, who dropped off with howls of anguish.

The craft quickly shot upward. There were yells of terror from a few
of the red savages who remained clinging to different parts of the
Black Hawk and then, fearing they might be taken to the clouds,
they, too, dropped off. The rescuers and rescued mounted higher and
higher, and, when they were far enough up so that there was no
danger from the spears or arrows, Tom switched on the lights, and
turned the electric current into the search-lantern, the rays of
which beamed down on the mass of yelling and baffled savages below.

"A few shots for them to remember us by!" cried Mr. Durban, as he
sent more of the paralyzing electric currents into the red imps.
Their yell of rage had now turned to shouts of terror, for the
gleaming beam of light frightened them more than did the airship, or
the bullets of the white men. The red pygmies fled to their huts.

"I guess we gave them a lesson," remarked Tom, as he started the
propellers and sent the ship on through the night.

"Why, Tom! You're hurt!" cried Ned, who came into the pilot house at
that moment, and saw blood on his chum.

"Only a scratch," the young inventor declared.

"It's more than that," said Mr. Durban who looked at it a little
later. "It must be bound up, Tom."

And, while Ned steered the ship back to the jungle clearing whence
they had come to make the night attack, Tom's wound was dressed.

Meanwhile the two missionaries had been well taken care of. They
were given other garments, even some dresses being provided for Mrs.
Illingway, for when the voyage was begun Tom had considered the
possibility of having a woman on board, and had bought some ladies'
garments. Then, having cast down to earth the ill-smelling skins
which formed their clothes while captives, Mr. and Mrs. Illingway,
decently dressed, thanked Tom and the others over and over again.

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