The rescuers and rescued mounted higher and
higher, and, when they were far enough up so that there was no
danger from the spears or arrows, Tom switched on the lights, and
turned the electric current into the search-lantern, the rays of
which beamed down on the mass of yelling and baffled savages below.
"A few shots for them to remember us by!" cried Mr. Durban, as he
sent more of the paralyzing electric currents into the red imps.
Their yell of rage had now turned to shouts of terror, for the
gleaming beam of light frightened them more than did the airship, or
the bullets of the white men. The red pygmies fled to their huts.
"I guess we gave them a lesson," remarked Tom, as he started the
propellers and sent the ship on through the night.
"Why, Tom! You're hurt!" cried Ned, who came into the pilot house at
that moment, and saw blood on his chum.
"Only a scratch," the young inventor declared.
"It's more than that," said Mr. Durban who looked at it a little
later. "It must be bound up, Tom."
And, while Ned steered the ship back to the jungle clearing whence
they had come to make the night attack, Tom's wound was dressed.
Meanwhile the two missionaries had been well taken care of.
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