“This will give them the idea that we are a supernatural bunch, I hope,” said the young inventor. “They’ll hesitate about rushing us, and that’s what I want—to hold off that overwhelming rush.”
Tom Swift seemed likely to get his wish, for when, after a minute or two, the smoke screen was blown away, the water about the Air Monarch was clear of pirate canoes. The paddlers had hastily drawn back from too close proximity to the “foreign bird-ship,” as, doubtless, they called the craft.
But if the danger of an immediate and overwhelming rush was over for a time, the menace of the Malay horde still remained. For though the canoes had withdrawn to a respectful distance they still hemmed the aircraft in, and it would have been impossible to get headway enough to rise without crashing into part of the flotilla. This might kill a number of the pirates. It was also likely to damage the Air Monarch.
“Here comes the chief. I think he wants a parley,” said Peltok, as the largest canoe of all, much bedecked with feathers and other ornaments, shot out from the midst of the boats and was paddled toward the aircraft. On a raised platform amidships sat a fat Malaysian surrounded by his attendants. One of them began shouting something to which Peltok listened attentively.
“He’s the chief, all right,” he translated to the others after an exchange of talk between himself and the Malaysian. “He says he will let us depart in peace if one of us will remain to be offered as a sacrifice.”
“A sacrifice!” cried Tom. “A sacrifice to what?”
“To one of their heathen gods,” Peltok announced. “It seems the tribe has had bad luck and they think their god should be propitiated. A white man as a sacrifice will do the trick, that Malay chap said. That smoke bomb scared them,” he went on. “They can see that we have great power. But still they are not enough impressed to let us go free, though they say they will withdraw their boats and let us go on our way if one of our party is handed over for sacrifice.”
“And if we refuse?” asked Tom.
“Then they will rush on us and kill us all, no matter how many of them we may kill,” translated Peltok. “Thus will their god be appeased and fortune will smile on them, the chief says.”
“They’re desperate enough to do just that,” said Tom. He seemed lost in thought for a moment, and then he added: “Tell them we will let them know in the morning. Hold them off until after dark,” he added. “By that time we’ll have had a chance to go over our motors and be ready for a rush.”