“Don’t mind that!” advised Ned.  “Keep on pouring lead into them.  We’ll soon be away from here!”

“Don’t fire any more!” called Mr. Durban.  “The gun-flashes tell them where to shoot.  I’ll use the electric rifle.  It’s better.”

They followed his advice, and put aside their weapons.  By means of the electric flash, which he projected into the midst of the savages, without the glare coming on the airship, Mr. Durban was able to tell where to aim.  Once he had a mass of red pygmies located, he could keep on shooting charge after charge into their midst.

“Use it full power!” called Tom, as he opened the gas machine to its widest capacity, so the bag would quickly fill, and the craft be sent forward, for it was so dark, and the ground near the huts so uneven, that the Black Hawk could not rise as an aeroplane.

The elephant hunter turned on full strength in the electric gun and the wireless bullets were sent into the midst of the attackers.  The result was surprising.  They were so closely packed together that when one was hit the electrical shock was sent through his nearly naked body into the naked bodies of his tribesmen who pressed on every side of him.  In consequence whole rows of the savages went down at a time, disabled from fighting any more.

Meanwhile Tom was working frantically to hasten the rising of the airship.  His neck pained him very much where the arrow had struck him, but he dared not stop now to dress the wound.  He could feel the blood running down his side, but he shut his teeth grimly and said nothing.

The two missionaries, scarcely able to believe that they were to be saved, had been shown into an inner cabin by Tomba, who had become somewhat used to the airship by this time, and who could find his way about well in the dark, for no lights had yet been turned on.

Hundreds of pygmies had been disabled, yet still others came to take their places.  The gas bag was again punctured in several places, but the rents were small, and Tom knew that he could make the gas faster than it could escape, unless the bag was ripped open.

“They’re climbing up the sides!” suddenly called Ned Newton, for he saw several of the little men clambering up.  “What shall we do?”

“Pound their fingers!” called Mr. Anderson.  “Get clubs and whack them!” It was good advice.  Ned remembered on one occasion when he and Tom were looking at Andy Foger’s airship, how this method had been proposed when the bank clerk hung on the back fence.  As he grabbed up a stick, and proceeded to pound the hands and bare arms of the savages who were clinging to the railing, Ned found himself wondering what had become of the bully.  He was to see Andy sooner than he expected.

Suddenly in the midst of the fighting, which was now a hand-to-hand conflict, there was a tremor throughout the length of the airship.

“She’s going up!” yelled Ned.