“You can’t scare these natives!” shouted Peltok. “They are utterly savage. They have no gods. They worship only human heads, and they are after ours.”
“Then we won’t waste any time parleying,” decided the young inventor. “Unlimber the machine gun!” he called to Hartman and Brinkley. “Ned, get out the rifles! If they want to fight we’ll give ’em one!”
“But what if we can’t beat ’em off?” asked Ned, as he ran to get some of the arms. “We’ll be stuck here sha'n’t we, with one propeller gone?”
“We’ll be stuck if we can’t ship a new one, but we have two spares,” said Tom. “We’ve got to fight these head-hunters off—that’s all there is to it!”
Realizing how desperate was their situation, the party, one and all, resolved to die fighting rather than fall into the hands of the evil savages.
The machine gun was set up on its tripod just outside the motor room, on a small platform which was hastily screened in by some boxes, chests and movable lockers. Hartman and Brinkley, who were to work this automatic weapon, would thus be protected from the spears and arrows of the head-hunters. Luckily the islanders did not seem to possess firearms.
Tom, Ned and Peltok would take their stand in the front cabin and fire on the savages from there. No sooner were these measures of defense taken than the head-hunters rushed to the attack, yelling, shouting, and brandishing their weapons.
There was quite a party of them coming up in canoes at the stern of the floating airship, and Tom, seeing this, yelled to the machine gunners:
“Let ’em have it!”
A moment later the automatic began its staccato roar and the bullets fairly riddled several canoes, sinking them, spilling their warriors and paddlers into the water, and killing numbers of them.