"If they do, it will be a bad thing for us," muttered Tom. "We can't
have that happen."

He followed the old elephant hunter outside, and Mr. Anderson, Ned
Newton and Mr. Damon trailed after, each one with a gun, while Tom
had his electric weapon. The airship rested on its wheels on some
level ground, just in front of a large hut, surrounded by a number
of smaller ones. All about were the natives, tall, gaunt black men,
hideous in their savagery, wearing only the loin cloth, and with
their kinky hair stuck full of sticks, bones and other odd objects
they presented a curious sight.

Some of them were dancing about, brandishing their weapons--clubs
spears, bows, and arrows, or the long, slender blowguns, consisting
merely of a hollow reed. Women and children there were, too, also
dancing and leaping about, howling at the tops of their voices.
Above the unearthly din could be heard the noise of the drums and
tom-toms, while, as the adventurers drew up in front of their
airship, there came a sort of chant, and a line of natives, dressed
fantastically in the skins of beasts, came filing out of the large
hut.

"The witch-doctors!" exclaimed Tom, who had read of them in African
travel books.

"Are they going to attack us?" cried Ned.

"Bless my hymn book! I hope not!" came from Mr. Damon. "We wouldn't
have any chance at all in this horde of black men. I wish Eradicate
Sampson and his mule Boomerang were here. Maybe he could talk their