Part 9 (1/2)

”I mentioned to you, when we were on Earthquake Island,” he said to Tom, ”that I had been in Africa, and had done some hunting. That is not my calling, as it is that of your friend, Mr. Durban, but I know the country pretty well. However, I have not been there in some time.”

”My wife and I are connected with a church in New York that, several years ago, raised a fund and sent two missionaries, Mr. and Mrs.

Jacob Illingway, to the heart of Africa. They built up a little mission there, and for a time all went well, and they did good work among the natives.”

”They are established in a tribe of friendly black men, of simple nature, and, while the natives did not become Christianized to any remarkable extent, yet they were kind to the missionaries. Mr. and Mrs. Illingway used frequently to write to members of our church, telling of their work. They also mentioned the fact that adjoining the country of the friendly blacks there was a tribe of fierce little red men,--red because of hair of that color all over their bodies.”

”That's right,” agreed Mr. Durban, shaking his head solemnly.

”They're red imps, too!”

”Mr. Illingway often mentioned in his letters,” went on Mr.

Anderson, ”that there were frequent fights between the pygmies and the race of blacks, but the latter had no great fear of their small enemies. However, it seems that they did not take proper precautions, for not long ago there was a great battle, the blacks were attacked by a large force of the red pygmies, who overwhelmed them by numbers, and finally routed them, taking possession of their country.”

”What became of the missionaries?” asked Ned Newton.

”I'll tell you,” said Mr. Anderson. ”For a long time we heard nothing, beyond the mere news of the fight, which we read of in the papers. The church people were very anxious about the fate of Mr.

and Mrs. Illingway, and were talking of sending a special messenger to inquire about them, when a cablegram came from the headquarters of the society in London.”

”It seems that one of the black natives, named Tomba, who was a sort of house servant to Mr. and Mrs. Illingway, escaped the general ma.s.sacre, in which all his friends were killed. He made his way through the jungle to a white settlement, and told his story, relating how the two missionaries had been carried away captive by the pygmies.”

”A terrible fate,” commented Mr. Durban.

”Yes, they might better be dead, from all the accounts we can hear,”

went on Mr. Anderson.

”Bless my Sunday hat! Don't say that!” exclaimed Mr. Damon. ”Maybe we can save them, Mr. Anderson.”

”That is what I am going to try to do, though it may be too late. As soon as definite news was received, our church held a meeting, raised a fund, and decided to send me off to find Mr. and Mrs.

Illingway, if alive, or give them decent burial, if I could locate their bones. The reason they selected me was because I had been in Africa, and knew the country.”

”I made hurried arrangements, packed up, said good-by to my wife, and here I am. But to think of meeting you, Tom Swift! And to hear that you are also going to Africa. I wish I could command an airs.h.i.+p for the rescue. It might be more easily accomplished!”

”That's just what I was going to propose!” exclaimed Tom. ”We are going to the land of the red pygmies, and while I have promised to help Mr. Durban in getting ivory, and while I want to try my electric rifle on big game, still we can do both, I think. You can depend on us, Mr. Anderson, and if the Black Hawk can be of any service to you in the rescue, count us in!”

”Gos.h.!.+” cried the former castaway of Earthquake Island. ”This is the best piece of luck I could have! Now tell me all about your plans.”

which Tom and the others did, listening in turn, to further details about the missionaries.

Just how they would go to work to effect the rescue, or how they could locate the particular tribe of little red men who had Mr. and Mrs. Illingway, they did not know.

”We may be able to get hold of this Tomba,” said Mr. Durban. ”If not I guess between Mr. Anderson and myself we can get on the trail, somehow. I'm anxious to get to the coast, see the airs.h.i.+p put together again, and start for the interior.”

”So am I,” declared Tom, as he got out his electric rifle, and began to put it together, for he wanted to show Mr. Anderson how it worked.

They had a pleasant and uneventful voyage for two weeks. The weather was good, and, to tell the truth, it was rather monotonous for Tom and the others, who were eager to get into activity again. Then came a storm, which, while it was not dangerous, yet gave them plenty to think and talk about for three days. Then came more calm weather, when the Soudalar plowed along over gently heaving billows.

They were about a week from their port of destination, which was Majumba, on the African coast, when, one afternoon, as Tom and the others were in their cabin, they heard a series of shouts on deck, and the sound of many feet running to and fro.