Tom Swift in Captivity

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"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!

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