There was a flicker of matches as they were applied to the fuses, and then a splutter of sparks.  An instant later it seemed as if the whole heavens had been lighted up.

Sky rockets shot screaming toward the zenith, aerial bombs went whirling slantingly upward amid a shower of sparks, then to burst with deafening reports, sending out string after string of colored lights.  Red and green fire gleamed, and the hot balls from Roman candles burst forth.  There was a whizz, a rush and a roar.  Blinding flashes and startling reports followed each other as Tom and his friends set off the fireworks.  It was like the Independence Day celebration of some little country village, and to the simple giants it must have seemed as if a volcano had suddenly gone into action.

For several minutes the din and racket, the glare and explosions, kept up, pouring out of the big window of the hut.  And then, as the last of the display was shot off, and darkness seemed to settle down blacker than ever over the giant village, there arose howls of fear and terror from the big men and their women and children.  They cried aloud in their thunderous voices, and there was fear in every cry.

CHAPTER XIX

WEAK GIANTS

A great silence followed the setting off of the fireworks—­silence and darkness—­and even the circus man ceased to shout.  He wanted to see what the effect would be.  So did Tom and the others.  When their eyes had become used to the gloom again, after the glare of the rockets and bombs, the young inventor said: 

“Look out of the windows, Ned, and see if our guards have run away.”

Ned did as requested, but for a few seconds he could make out nothing.  Then he cried out: 

“They’ve gone, but they’re coming back again, and there are twice as many.  I guess they don’t want us to escape, Tom, for fear we may do a lot of damage.”

“Bless my hitching post!” cried Mr. Damon.  “The guards doubled?  We are in a predicament, Tom.”

“Yes, I’m afraid so.  The fireworks didn’t just have the effect I expected.  I thought they’d be glad to let us go, fearing that we could work magic, and might turn it on them.  Most of the natives are deadly afraid of magic, the evil eye, witch doctors, and stuff like that.  But evidently we’ve impressed the giants in the wrong way.  If we could only speak their language now, we could explain that unless they let us go we might destroy their village, though of course we wouldn’t do anything of the kind.  If we could only speak their language but we can’t.”

“Do you suppose they understood what Delby said?” asked Ned.

“Not a bit of it!  He was just desperate when he yelled out that way.  He saw that we had an advantage on him—­or at least I thought we did, but I guess we didn’t,” and Tom gazed out of the windows in front of each of which stood two of the largest giants.  By means of the torches it could be seen that the circus man was being taken to another hut, some distance away from the royal one.  Then, after an awed silence, there broke out a confused talking and shouting among the giant population, that was drawn up in a circle a respectful distance from the hut where the captives were confined.  Doubtless they were discussing what had taken place, hoping and yet fearing, that there might be more fireworks.