r us?"

"I have plenty of both petrol and oil here for you," said the
Scotchman, with another look toward the huts, "but I am afraid for your
lives if you stay to put it aboard."

"How is that?" cried Tom, his usually smiling countenance growing sober
for once, while his companions felt a vague uneasiness.

"It's this way," stated MacInnis. "About eight o'clock this morning
the airplane that is racing you came in. It was the first machine of
the kind the natives had ever seen, and they were greatly frightened,
thinking Jobbajobba, one of their heathen devils, had appeared in the
guise of a great bird, and was about to attack the children of the
wicked of them. When the aviators climbed out, and they saw that they
were human, they lost some of this fear, but remained at a respectable
distance all the time the 'great bird was being given a drink.' Then
two of the men--one was the slender and dark-complexioned fellow--went
into the town sight-seeing. In the course of their rounds they stole
the ivory head, set with gold eyes and teeth, off of the body of one of
the tribe's most cherished idols, the god of Ogu Nogo. This was not
discovered until the aviators had departed in their airplane, but then
the Fulbees were wild with rage at the 'bird-men,' as they called them,
and swore to kill them if they should ever return. To-night they
observed you landing, as I did. They are now in hiding, probably with
weapons, and are undoubtedly watching your every move, ready to strike
when the time comes, thinking you to be those other fellows or men of
as evil instincts. As I said, I fear for your lives if you tarry
here." And as he finished he once more glanced nervously around at the
huts and shacks in the gloom of the fast-gathering night.

But in that direction all was so quiet that John hopefully remarked: "I
think they are too frightened to appear. We need more gasoline, as we
have been running very hard and our tanks are low. We will hurry
matters up, and three of us will fill while the other stands guard with
a rifle."

Mr. MacInnis then helped John, Tom, and Paul carry the big square tins
of British petrol, which is the same as American gasoline, from the
field shelter to the Sky-Bird, where, in the course of a half-hour, two
hundred gallons were poured into the tanks, also ten gallons of oil.
In the meantime, Bob Giddings, rifle in hand, stood close by, alert for
danger. He watched the nearest buildings of th