"Bless my toothbrush!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "Do you mean cannibals,
Mr. Durban?"
"Some cannibals," was the reply. "but they're not the worst. I mean
the red pygmies. I hope we don't get into their clutches."
"Red pygmies!" repeated Tom, wonderingly.
"Yes, they're a tribe of little creatures, about three feet high,
covered with thick reddish hair, who live in the central part of
Africa, near some of the best elephant-hunting ground. They are
wild, savage and ferocious, and what they lack individually in
strength, they make up in numbers. They're like little red apes, and
woe betide the unlucky hunter who falls into their merciless hands.
They treat him worse than the cannibals do."
"Then we'll look out for them," said Tom. "But I fancy my electric
rifle will make them give us a wide berth."
"It's a great gun," admitted the old hunter with a shake of his
head, "but those red pygmies are terrible creatures. I hope we don't
get them on our trail. But tell me, Tom, how are you coming on with
the airship? for I don't know much about mechanics, and to me it
looks as if it would never be put together. I's like one of those
queer puzzles I've seen 'em selling in the streets of London.
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