Though the triple ring of canoes had withdrawn a little distance from the airship, the big craft was still so well invested that unless the rings were broken escape would be out of the question.
Darkness fell rapidly. Tom and Ned got a meal ready, serving it to the mechanics who were working fast to complete the adjustments made necessary by the strain to the ship caused by the typhoon.
It was nearly midnight when Tom, having got out the fireworks, made ready for his surprise. With the help of his four friends, he laid a battery of rockets in wooden troughs so they would shoot in four directions from the airship. Then, directly ahead, in the path he intended to use to get up speed to mount into the air, he aimed some big Roman candles.
“All ready!” cried Tom when Ned and the others had announced that they were prepared. “Let ’em go!”
With terrifying roars, with sharp explosive pops and showers of sparks, the rockets and Roman candles whizzed forth. The darkness was set aglow with a terrifying glare, and from the watchers in the canoes came yells of dismay.
“Start the motors!” cried Tom when, by means of the red glow, he saw the canoes scurry away, leaving a free passage.
With a roar, the powerful machines got into action, the propellers whirled, and the Air Monarch shot across the water.
A few seconds of this ever increasing speed enabled the craft to rise into the air, and then she was on her way, winging her flight high over the heads of the terrified and disappointed savages.
“That will hold them for a while!” cried Ned, as he aimed the last burning balls of his Roman candle down on the dark mass of fleeing natives.
All through the night the machine roared on, reducing each hour the distance that separated her from the final goal. There were still many thousands of miles to cover, however, and several days would be needed to do this.