Tom Swift and His Electric Rifle

"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."

"Oh, it's nearer ready than it looks to be," said Tom. "We'll have it assembled, and ready for a trial in about two weeks more."

Work on the Black Hawk was rushed more than ever in the next few days, another extra machinist being engaged. Then the craft began to assume shape and form, and with the gas bag partly inflated and the big planes stretching out from either side, it began to look something like the ill-fated Red Cloud.

"It's going to be a fine ship!" cried Tom enthusiastically, one day, as he went to the far side of the ship to get a perspective view of it. "We'll make good time in this."

"Are you going to sail all the way to Africa--across the ocean--in her?" asked Mr. Durban, in somewhat apprehensive tones.

"Oh, no," replied Tom. "I believe she would be capable of taking us across the ocean, but there is no need of running any unnecessary risks. I want to get her safely to Africa, and have her do stunts in elephant land."

"Then what are your plans?" asked the hunter.

"We'll put her together here," said Tom, "give her a good try-out to see that she works well, and then pack her up for shipment to the African coast by steamer. We'll go on the same ship, and when we arrive we'll put the Black Hawk together again, and set sail for the interior."

"Good idea," commented Mr. Durban. "Now, if you've no objections, I'm going to do a little practice with the electric rifle."

"Go ahead," assented Tom. "There comes Ned Newton; he'll be glad of a chance for a few shots while I work on this new propeller motor. It just doesn't suit me."

The bank clerk, who had arranged to go to Africa with Tom, was seen advancing toward the aeroplane shed. In his hand Ned held a paper, and as he saw Tom he called out:

"Have you heard the news?"

"What news?" inquired the young inventor.

"About Andy Foger. He and his aeroplane are lost!"

"Lost!" cried Tom, for in spite of the mean way the bully had treated him our hero did not wish him any harm.

"Well, not exactly lost," went on Ned, as he held out the paper to Tom, "but he and his sky-craft have disappeared."

"Disappeared?"

"Yes. You know he and that German, Mr. Landbacher, went over to Europe to give some aviation exhibitions. Well, I see by this paper that they went to Egypt, and were doing a high-flying stunt there, when a gale sprang up, they lost control of the aeroplane and it was swept out of sight."

"In which direction; out to sea?"

"No, toward the interior of Africa."

"Toward the interior of Africa!" cried Tom. "And that's where we're going in a couple of weeks. Andy in Africa!"

"'Maybe we'll see him there," suggested Ned.

"Well, I certainly hope we do not!" exclaimed Tom, as he turned back to his work, with an undefinable sense of fear in his heart.