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Tom and Ned were standing on the forward part of the airs.h.i.+p, which was moving slowly along, over an open plateau, in the jungle where the native battle was about to take place. Our friends had left the town where the missionaries lived, and had hovered over the jungle, until they saw signs of the coming struggle. They had seen nothing of their English rivals since coming away, but had no doubt but that the Britishers were somewhere in the neighborhood.
The two forces of black men, who had gone to war over a dispute about some cattle, approached each other. There was the beating of tom-toms, and skin drums, and many weird shouts. From their vantage point in the air, Tom and his companions had an excellent view. The Wizard Camera was loaded with a long reel of film, and ready for action.
"Bless my handkerchief!" cried Mr. Damon, as he looked down on the forces that were about to clash. "I never saw anything like this before!"
"I either," admitted Tom. "But, if things go right, I'm going to get some dandy films!"
Nearer and nearer the rival forces advanced. At first they had stared, and shouted in wonder at the sight of the airs.h.i.+p, hovering above them, but their anger soon drew their attention to the fighting at hand, and, after useless gestures toward the craft of the air, and after some of them had vainly fired their guns or arrows at it, they paid no more attention, but rushed on with their shouts and cries and amid the beating of their rude drums.
"I think I'll begin to take pictures now," said Tom, as Ned, in charge of the s.h.i.+p, sent it about in a circle, giving a general view of the rival forces. "I'll show a scene of the two crowds getting ready for business, and, later on, when they're actually giving each other cats and dogs, I'll get all the pictures possible."
The camera was started while, safe in the air those on the Flyer watched what went on below them.
Suddenly the forward squads of the two small armies of blacks met. With wild, weird yells they rushed at each other. The air was filled with flying arrows and spears. The sound of the old-fas.h.i.+oned muzzle-loading guns could be heard, and clouds of smoke arose. Tilting his camera, and arranging the newly attached reflecting mirrors so as to give the effect as if a spectator was looking at the battle from in front, instead of from above, Tom Swift took picture after picture.
The fight was now on. With yells of rage and defiance the Africans came together, giving blow for blow. It was a wild melee, and those on the airs.h.i.+p looked on fascinated, though greatly wis.h.i.+ng that such horrors could be stopped.
"How about it, Tom?" cried Ned.
"Everything going good! I don't like this business, but now I'm in it I'm going to stick. Put me down a little lower," answered the young inventor.
"All right. I say Tom, look over there."
"Where?"
"By that lightning-struck gum tree. See those two men, and some sort of a machine they've got stuck up on stilts? See it?"
"Sure. Those are the two Englishmen--my rivals! They're taking pictures, too!"
And then, with a crash and roar, with wild shouts and yells, with volley after volley of firearms, clouds of smoke and flights of arrows and spears, the native battle was in full swing, while the young inventor, sailing above it in his airs.h.i.+p, reeled off view after view of the strange sight.
CHAPTER XIX
A HEAVY LOSS
"Bless my battle axe, but this is awful!" cried Mr. Damon.
"War is always a fearful thing," spoke Mr. Nestor. "But this is not as bad as if the natives fought with modern weapons. See! most of them are fighting with clubs, and their fists. They don't seem to hurt each other very much."
"That's so," agreed Mr. Damon. The two gentlemen were in the main cabin, looking down on the fight below them, while Tom, with Ned to help him change the reels of films, as they became filled with pictures, attended to the camera. Koku was steering the craft, as he had readily learned how to manage it.
"Are those Englishmen taking pictures yet?" asked Tom, too busy to turn his head, and look for himself.
"Yes, they're still at," replied Ned. "But they seem to be having trouble with their machine," he added as he saw one of the men leave the apparatus, and run hurriedly back to where they had made a temporary camp.
"I guess it's an old-fas.h.i.+oned kind," commented Tom. "Say, this is getting fierce!" he cried, as the natives got in closer contact with each other. It was now a hand-to-hand battle.
"I should say so!" yelled Ned. "It's a wonder those Englishmen aren't afraid to be down on the same level with the black fighters."
"Oh, a white person is considered almost sacred by the natives here, so the missionaries told me," said Tom. "A black man would never think of raising his hand to one, and the Englishmen probably know this. They're safe enough. In fact I'm thinking of soon going down myself, and getting some views from the ground."
"Bless my gizzard, Tom!" cried Mr. Damon. "Don't do it!"
"Yes, I think I will. Why, it's safe enough. Besides, if they attack us we have the electric rifles. Ned, you tell Koku to get the guns out, to have in readiness, and then you put the s.h.i.+p down. I'll take a chance."
"Jove! You've been doing nothing but take chances since we came on this trip!" exclaimed Ned, admiringly. "All right! Here we go," and he went to relieve Koku at the wheel, while the giant, grinning cheerfully at the prospect of taking part in the fight himself, got out the rifles, including his own.
Meanwhile the native battle went on fiercely. Many on both sides fell, and not a few ran away, when they got the chance, their companions yelling at them, evidently trying to shame them into coming back.
As the airs.h.i.+p landed, Mr. Damon, Mr. Nestor, Ned and Koku stood ready with the deadly electric rifles, in case an attack should be made on them. But the fighting natives paid no more attention to our friends than they did to the two Englishmen. The latter moved their clumsy camera from place to place, in order to get various views of the fighting.
"This is the best yet!" cried Tom, as, after a lull in the fight, when the two opposing armies had drawn a little apart, they came together again more desperately than before. "I hope the pictures are being recorded all right. I have to go at this thing pretty much in the dark.
Say, look at the beggars fight!" he finished.
But a battle, even between uncivilized blacks, cannot go on for very long at a time. Many had fallen, some being quite severely injured it seemed, being carried off by their friends. Then, with a sudden rush, the side which, as our friends learned later, had been robbed of their cattle, made a fierce attack, overwhelming their enemies, and compelling them to retreat. Across the open plain the vanquished army fled, with the others after them. Tom, meanwhile, taking pictures as fast as he could.
"This ends it!" he remarked to Ned, when the warriors were too far away to make any more good views. "Now we can take a rest."
"The Englishmen gave up some time ago," said his chum, motioning to the two men who were taking their machine off the tripod.
"Guess their films gave out," spoke Tom. "Well, you see it didn't do any harm to come down, and I got some better views here."
"Here they come back!" exclaimed Ned, as a horde of the black fellows emerged from the jungle, and came on over the plain.
"Hear 'em sing!" commented Tom, as the sound of a rude chant came to their ears. "They must be the winners all right."
"I guess so," agreed Ned. "But what about staying here now? Maybe they won't be so friendly to us when they haven't any fighting to occupy their minds."
"Don't worry," advised Tom. "They won't bother us."
And the blacks did not. They were caring for their wounded, who had not already been taken from the field, and they paid no attention to our friends, save to look curiously at the airs.h.i.+p.
"Bless my newspaper!" cried Mr. Damon, with an air of relief. "I'm glad that's over, and we didn't have to use the electric rifles, after all."
"Here come the Englishmen to pay us a visit," spoke Ned a little later, as they sat about the cabin of the Flyer. The two rival picture men soon climbed on deck.
"Beg pardon," said the taller of the two, addressing our hero, "but could you lend us a roll of film? Ours are all used up, and we want to get some more pictures before going back to our main camp."
"I'm sorry," replied Tom, "but I use a special size, and it fits no camera but my own."
"Ah! might we see your camera?" asked the other Englishman. "That is, see how it works?"
"I don't like to be disobliging," was Tom's answer, "but it is not yet patented and--well--" he hesitated.