ver 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 by
a lion, and slightly wounded. But, Tom, now we can get on the
trail!"

"Good!" cried the young inventor. "That's fine news!" and he
rejoiced that once more there would be activity, for he was tired of
remaining in the African camp, and then, too, he wanted to proceed
to the rescue. Already it might be too late to save the unfortunate
missionaries.

CHAPTER XIX

AN APPEAL FOR HELP

The African hunter's story was soon told. He had gone on farther
than had any of his companions, and, being a bold and brave man, had
penetrated into the very fastness of the jungle where few would dare
to venture.

But even he had despaired of getting on the trail of the fierce
little red men, until one afternoon, just at dusk he had heard
voices in the forest. Crouching behind a fallen tree, he waited and
saw passing by some of the pygmy hunters, armed with bows and
arrows, and blowguns. They had been out after game. Cautiously the
hunter followed them, until he located one of their odd villages,
which consisted of little mud huts, poorly made.

The black hunter remained in the vicinity of the pygmies all that
night, and was almost caught, for some wild dogs which hung around
the village smelled him out, and attracted to him the attention of
the dwarf savages. The hunter took to a tree, and so escaped. Then,
carefully marking the trail, he came away in the morning. When near
home, a lion had attacked him, but he speared the beast to death,
after a hand-to-hand struggle in which his leg was torn