Victor Appleton - "Tom Swift in the City of Gold"

Horace - "The Art Of Poetry An Epistle To The Pisos"

John Carr - "The Stranger in France"

John Kendall (AKA Dum Dum) - "Rhymes of the East and Re collected Verses"

Annual Bibliography of Commonwealth Literature 2007
This paper argues that discourses of love in Ghanaian market literature for youth offer a view into complex negotiations of agency and empowerment. Drawing on Deborah Durham's notion of youth as "social `shifters'" and Francis Nyamnjoh's conception of the "interconnectedness" of agency, I take Ghanaian market literature as one specific case of how African literature for youth foregrounds questions of continuity and change as African societies enter into increasingly complex global relations. In this literature for youth, received notions of love, often constructed out of impressions from American pop and hip hop music, carry new notions of agency that compete with existing "domesticated" forms. Authors like Ike Tandoh and Evelyn Tay employ discourses of love to offer youth alternative avenues for empowerment in a context of socio-economic disenfranchizement. In a creative process of "straddling", this writing both reveals and reproduces the contradictions that obtain in youth configurations of agency.

Tom Swift in Captivity

V >> Victor Appleton >> Tom Swift in Captivity




"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."

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