“What does that mean?” asked Mr. Durban, who did not know much about machinery.
“It means that I’ve got to put a new cylinder in,” went on Tom. “It’s quite a job, too, but we can’t make gas without it!”
“Well, can’t you do it just as well up in the air as down here?” asked Mr. Durban. “Make an ascension, Tom, and do the repairs up above, where we’ve got good air, and where—”
He paused suddenly, and seemed to be listening.
“What is it?” asked the young inventor quickly. There was no need to answer, for, from the jungle without, came the dull booming of the war drums of some natives.
“That’s what I was afraid of!” cried the old elephant hunter, catching up his gun. “Some black scout has seen us and is summoning his tribesmen. Hurry, Tom, send up the ship, and we’ll take care of the savages.”
“But I CAN’T send her up!” cried Tom.
“You can’t? Why not?”
“Because the gas machine won’t work until I put in a new cylinder, and that will take at least a half a day.”
“Go up as an aeroplane then!” cried Mr. Damon. “Bless my monkey wrench, Tom, you’ve often done it before.”