"This ends it!" he remarked to Ned, when the warriors were too far away to make any more good views. "Now we can take a rest."
"The Englishmen gave up some time ago," said his chum, motioning to the two men who were taking their machine off the tripod.
"Guess their films gave out," spoke Tom. "Well, you see it didn't do any harm to come down, and I got some better views here."
"Here they come back!" exclaimed Ned, as a horde of the black fellows emerged from the jungle, and came on over the plain.
"Hear 'em sing!" commented Tom, as the sound of a rude chant came to their ears. "They must be the winners all right."
"I guess so," agreed Ned. "But what about staying here now? Maybe they won't be so friendly to us when they haven't any fighting to occupy their minds."
"Don't worry," advised Tom. "They won't bother us."
And the blacks did not. They were caring for their wounded, who had not already been taken from the field, and they paid no attention to our friends, save to look curiously at the airship.
"Bless my newspaper!" cried Mr. Damon, with an air of relief. "I'm glad that's over, and we didn't have to use the electric rifles, after all."
"Here come the Englishmen to pay us a visit," spoke Ned a little later, as they sat about the cabin of the Flyer. The two rival picture men soon climbed on deck.