see what we can do ourselves," said Mr. Durban.
"Let's wait until the last hunter comes back," suggested Tom. "He may bring word."
"Some of his friends think he'll never come back," remarked Mr. Anderson.
"Why not?" asked Ned.
"They think he has been killed by some wild beast."
But this fear was ungrounded. It was on the second day after the killing of the rhinoceroses that, as Tom was tinkering away in the engine-room of the airship, and thinking that perhaps they had better get under way, that a loud shouting was heard among the natives.
"I wonder what's up now?" mused the young inventor as he went outside. He saw Mr. Durban and Mr. Anderson running toward the ship. Behind them was a throng of blacks, led by a weary man whom Tom recognized as the missing hunter. The lad's heart beat high with hope. Did the African bring news?
On came Mr. Durban, waving his hands to Tom.
"We've located 'em!" he shouted.
"Not the red pygmies?" asked Tom eagerly.
"Yes; this hunter has news of them. He has been to the border of their country, and narrowly escaped capture. Then he was attacked
