Anderson's ankle could not make
quick progress, so that it was almost dusk when they reached the
craft.
"Well, we'll have supper, and then start off," proposed Tom, "I
don't think it would be wise to remain on the ground so near the
jungle."
"No' it's safer in the air," agreed Mr. Durban. The meal was much
enjoyed, especially the fresh meat, and, after it was over, Tom took
his place in the pilot house to start the machinery, and send the
airship aloft.
The motor hummed and throbbed, and the gas hissed into the bag, for
the ground was not level enough to permit of a running start by
means of the planes. Lights gleamed from the Black Hawk and the big
search-lantern in front cast a dazzling finger of light into the
black forest.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" called Ned, who heard the
machinery in motion, but who could not feel the craft rising. "Why
don't you go up, Tom?"
"I'm trying to," answered the young inventor. "Something seems to be
the matter." He pulled the speed lever over a few more notches, and
increased the power of the gas machine. Still the Black Hawk did not
rise.
"Bless my handkerchief box!" cried Mr. Damon, "what's the matter?"
"I don't know," answered Tom.
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