A good meal was prepared by Mr. Damon, for the rescuers and rescued ones were hungry, and since they had been held prisoners the two missionaries had not been given very good food.
“Oh, it hardly seems possible that we are eating with white men again,” said Mr. Illingway, as he took a second cup of coffee, “hardly possible!”
“And to see electric lights, instead of a camp-fire,” added his wife. “What a wonderful airship you have, Tom Swift.”
“Yes, it’s pretty good,” he admitted. “It came in useful to-night, all right.”
They were now far enough from the savages, and the pygmies’ fires, which had been set aglow anew when the attack began, could no longer be observed.
“We’ll land at the place where we camped before,” said Tom, who had again assumed charge of the ship, “and in the morning we’ll start for civilization.”
“No can get two other white men?” suddenly asked Tomba, who had been sitting, gazing at his recovered master and mistress. “Fly-ship go back, an’ leave two white mans here?” the black asked.
“What in the world does he mean?” demanded Tom. “Of course we’re not going to leave any of our party behind!”
“Let me question him,” suggested Mr. Illingway, and he began to talk to the African in his own tongue. A rapid conversation followed, and a look of amazement spread over the faces of the two missionaries, as they listened.
“What is it?” asked Mr. Durban. “What does Tomba say?”