"I'd like to know how they got it in there!" Jack said. "It looks too big for a hundred men to handle."
"Anyway, there it is," Frank replied, "and there the propellers are—one of them broken. Can we make speed with that busted wing?"
"We've got to," Harry said. "Just hear the devils! They will rush the boat in about a minute!"
The cries coming from the forest were now blood-curdling in their ferocity. The cannibals were evidently working themselves into a pitch of excitement which would give them courage to charge the Black Bear.
Now and then the frightened howl of some wild beast was heard in the distance, adding not a little to the excitement of the scene. The tree which had been set on fire to attract the attention of the airship still blazed, sending a twist of flame far up into the sky.
In the glare of the fire the savages looked like fiends ready for any act of deviltry. Now and then three figures larger than the rest stood together as if in conference, and then the shouts grew louder, and the line about the boat closer drawn.
"I've got a notion that we can make pretty good speed with that broken wing," Jack mused. "Anyway, we can drift down stream if we can't steam up stream, and that will take us out of this mess."
"Then let's blow that log up with dynamite," suggested Frank.
"Yes," said Jack, "and finish the propellers!"
"Blow up the shore end," continued Frank. "Who can pitch it so that it will knock that blooming dry wood into the stream?"