“And if we don’t, what will happen?” asked Tom.

“Maybe they won’t be quite so glad to see us,” was the answer.

“Well, if they don’t mean war, we might as well put up our weapons,” suggested Mr. Anderson.  “If they’re going to be friendly, so much the better, and if it should happen to rain while we’re here, they’d think we brought it, and we could have almost anything we wanted.  Perhaps they have a store of ivory hidden away, Mr. Durban.  Some of these tribes do.”

“It’s possible, but the chances for rain are very small.  How long will we have to stay here, Tom Swift?” asked the elephant hunter anxiously.

“Well, perhaps I can get the motor mended in two or three days,” answered the young inventor.

“Then we’ll have to stay here in the meanwhile,” decided Mr. Durban.  “Well, we’ll make the best of it.  Ha, here comes the native king to do us honor,” and, as he spoke there came toward the airship a veritable giant of a black man, wearing a leopard skin as a royal garment, while on his head was a much battered derby hat, probably purchased at a fabulous price from some trader.  The king, if such he could be called, was accompanied by a number of attendants and witch-doctors.  In front walked a small man, who, as it developed, was an interpreter.  The little cavalcade advanced close to the airship, and came to a halt.  The king made a low bow, either to the craft or to the elephant hunters drawn up in front of it.  His attendants followed his example, and then the interpreter began to speak.

Mr. Durban listened intently, made a brief answer to the little man, and then the elephant hunter’s face lighted up.

“It’s all right,” he said to Tom and the others.  “The king takes us for wonderful spirits from another land.  He welcomes us, says we can have whatever we want, and he begs us to make it rain.  I have said we will do our best, and I have asked that some food be sent us.  That’s always the first thing to do.  We’ll be allowed to stay here in peace until Tom can mend the ship, and then we’ll hit the air trail again.”

The talk between Mr. Durban and the interpreter continued for some little time longer.  Then the king went back to his hut, refusing, as Mr. Durban said, an invitation to come aboard and see how a modern airship was constructed.  The natives, too, seemed anxious to give the craft a wide berth.

The excitement had quieted down now, and, in a short tine a crowd of native women came toward the airship, bearing, in baskets on their heads, food of various kinds.  There were bananas, some wild fruits, yams, big gourds of goats’ milk, some boiled and stewed flesh of young goats, nicely cooked, and other things, the nature of which could only be guessed at.

“Shall we eat this stuff, or stick to Mr. Damon’s cooking?” asked Tom.

“Oh, you’ll find this very good,” explained Mr. Durban.  “I’ve eaten native cookery before.  Some of it is excellent and as this appears to be very good, Mr. Damon can have a vacation while we are here.”