"I know not, senor. He come to me when I am hiring the others, and he say he is a good driver. And so he is, I test him before I engage him," went in San Pedro in Spanish. "He is one good driver."

"Why does he carry a revolver?"

"A revolver, senor? Santa Maria, I know not! I—"

"I'll find out," declared Tom determinedly. "Here," he called to the offending one, who straightened up quickly. "Come here!"

The man came, with all the cringing servility of a born native, and bowed low.

"Why have you a weapon?" asked the young inventor. "I gave orders that none of the drivers were to carry them."

"A revolver, senor? I have none! I—"

"Rad, reach in his pocket!" cried Tom, and the colored man did so with a promptness that the other could not frustrate. Eradicate held aloft a large calibre, automatic weapon.

"What's that for?" asked Tom, virtuously angry.

"I—er—I—" and then, with a hopeless shrug of his shoulders the man turned away.

"Give him his gun, and get another driver, San Pedro," directed our hero, and with another shrug of his shoulders the man accepted the revolver, and walked slowly off. Another driver was not hard to engage, as several had been hanging about, hoping for employment at the last minute, and one was quickly chosen.

"It's lucky you saw that gun, Ned," remarked Tom, when they were actually under way again.

"Yes, I saw the sun shining on it as his coat flapped up. What was his game, do you suppose?"

"Oh, he might be what they call a 'bad half-breed' down here. I guess maybe he thought he could lord it over the other drivers when we got out in the jungle, and maybe take some of their wages away from them, or have things easier for himself."

"Bless my wishbone!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "You don't think he meant to use it on us, Tom?"

"Why no? What makes you ask that?"

"Oh, I'm just nervous, I guess," replied the odd man.

But if Mr. Damon could have seen that same half-breed a little later, as he slipped into a Rosario resort, with the yellow stain washed from his face, the nervousness of the eccentric gentleman would have increased. For the man who had been detected with the revolver muttered to himself:

"Caught! Well, I'll fool 'em next time all right! I thought I could get away with the pack train, and then it would have been easy to turn the natives any way I wished, after I had found what I'm looking for. But I had to go and carry that gun! I never thought they'd spot it. Well, it's all up now, and if Waydell heard of it he'd want to fire me. But I'll make good yet. I'll have to adopt some other disguise, and see if I can't tag along behind."

All unconscious of the plotter they had left back of them, Tom and his companions pushed on, rapidly leaving such signs of civilization as were represented by small native towns and villages, and coming nearer to the jungles and forests that lay between them and the place where Tom was destined to be made a captive.

They were far enough away from the tropics to escape the intolerable heat, and yet it was quite warm. In fact the weather was not at all unpleasant, and, once they were started, all enjoyed the novelty of the trip.

Tom planned to keep along the eastern shore of the Parana river, until they reached the junction where the Salado joins it. Then he decided that they would do better to cross the Parana and strike into the big triangle made by that stream and its principal tributary, heading north toward Bolivia.

"For it is in that little-explored part of South America that I think the giants will be found." said Tom, as he talked it over with Ned and Mr. Damon in the privacy of their tent, which had been set up.

"But why should there be giants there any more than anywhere else?" asked Ned.

"No particular reason," answered his chum. "But, according to the last word Mr. Preston had from his agent, that was where he was heading for, and that's where Zacatas, his native helper, said he lost track of his master. I have a theory that the giants, if we find any, will turn out to be a branch of a Patagonian tribe."

"Patagonians!" exclaimed Ned.

"Yes. You know the natives of the Southern part of Argentina grow to a considerable size. Now Patagonia is a comparatively bleak and cold country. What would prevent some of that big tribe centuries ago, from having migrated to a warmer country, where life was more favorable? After several generations they may have grown to be giants."

"Bravo!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "It's a good theory, at any rate, Tom. Though whether you can ever prove it is a question."

"Yes, and a big one," agreed the young inventor with a laugh.

For some days they traveled along over a comparatively flat country, bordering the river. At times they would pass through small native villages, where they would be able to get fresh meat, poultry and other things that varied their bill of fare. Again there would be long, lonely stretches of forest or jungle, through which it was difficult to make their way. And, occasionally they would come to fair-sized towns where their stay was made pleasant.

"I doan't see any ob dem oranges an' bananas droppin' inter mah mouf, Massa Tom," complained Eradicate one day, after they had been on the march for over a week.

"Have patience, Rad," advised Tom. "We'll come to them when we get a little farther into the interior. First we'll come to the monkeys, and the cocoanut trees."

"Hones' Massa Tom?"

"Surely."

And though it was pretty far south for the nimble simians, the next day they did come upon a drove of them skipping about in the tall palm trees.

"There they are, Rad! There they are!" cried Ned, as the chattering of the monkeys filled the forest.

"By golly! So dey be! Heah's where I get some cocoanuts!"

Before anyone could stop him, Eradicate caught up a dead branch, and threw it at a monkey. The chattering increased, and almost instantly a shower of cocoanuts came crashing down, narrowly missing some of our friends.

"Hold on, Rad! Hold on!" cried Tom. "Some of us will be hurt!"

Crack! came a cocoanut down on the skull of the colored man.

"Bless my court plaster! Someone's hurt now!" cried Mr. Damon.

"Hurt? Bless yo' heart, Massa Damon, it takes mo' dan dat t' hurt dish yeah chile!" cried Eradicate with a grin. "Ah got a hard head, Ah has, mighty hard head, an' de cocoanut ain't growed dat kin bust it. Thanks, Mistah Monkey, thanks!" and with a laugh Eradicate jumped off his mule, and began gathering up the nuts, while the monkeys fled into the forest.

"Very much good to drink milk," said San Pedro, as he picked up a half-ripe nut, and showed how to chop off the top with a big knife and drain the slightly acid juice inside. "Very much good for thirst."

"Let's try it," proposed Tom, and they all drank their fill, for there were many cocoanuts, though it was rather an isolated grove of them.

The monkeys became more numerous as they proceeded farther north toward the equator, for it must be remembered that they had landed south of it, and at times the little animals became a positive nuisance.

Several days passed, and they crossed the Parana river and struck into the almost unpenetrated tract of land where Tom hoped to find the giants. As yet none of their escort dreamed of the object of the expedition, and though Tom had caused scouts to be sent back over their trail to learn if they were being followed there was no trace of any one.

One day, after a night camp on the edge of a rather high table land, they started across a fertile plain that was covered with a rich growth of grass.

"Good grazing ground here," commented Ned.

"Yes," put in San Pedro. "Plenty much horse here pretty soon."

"Do the natives graze their herds of horses here?" asked Tom.

"No natives—wild horses," explained Pedro. "Plenty much, sometimes too many they come. You see, maybe."

It was nearly noon, and Tom was considering stopping for dinner if they could come to a good watering place, when Ned, who had ridden slightly in advance, came galloping back as fast as his steed would carry him.

"Look out! Look out!" he cried. "There's a stampede of 'em, and they're headed right this way!"

"Stampede of what? Who's headed this way?" cried Tom. "A lot of monkeys?"

"No, wild horses! Thousands of 'em! Hear 'em coming?"

In the silence that followed Ned's warning there could be heard a dull, roaring, thundering sound, and the earth seemed to tremble.

"The young senor speaks truth! Wild horses are coming!" cried San Pedro. "Get ready, senors! Have your weapons at hand, and perchance we can turn the stampede aside."

"The rifles! The electric rifles, Ned—Mr. Damon! We've got to stop them, or they'll trample us to death!" cried Tom.

As he spoke the thundering became louder, and then, looking across the grassy plain, all saw a large troop of wild horses, with flying manes and tails, headed directly toward them!



CHAPTER XI

CAUGHT IN A LIVING ROPE

"Quick! Peg out the mules!" cried San Pedro, after one look at the onrushing horses. "Drive the stakes well down! Tie them fast and then get behind those rocks! Lively!"

He cried his orders to the natives in Spanish, at the same time motioning to Tom and Ned.

"Get off your mules!" he went on. "Peg them out. Peg out the others, and then run for it!"

"Run for it?" repeated Tom, "Do you think I'm going to leave my outfit in the midst of that stampede?" and he waved his hand toward the thundering, galloping wild horses which were coming nearer every moment. "Get out the electric rifles, and we'll turn that stampede. I'm not going to run."

"Bless my saddle!" cried Mr. Damon. "This is awful! There must be a thousand of them."

"Nearer two!" cried Ned, who was struggling to loosen the straps that bound his electric rifle to the side of his mule. Already the pack animals as well as those ridden by the members of the giant-hunting party were showing signs of excitement. They seemed to want to join the stampeding horses.

"Peg our animals out! Peg them out! Make them so they can't join the others!" yelled San Pedro. "It's our only chance!"

"I believe he's right!" cried Mr. Damon. "Tom, if we wait until those maddened brutes are up to us they'll fairly sweep ours along with them, and there's no telling where we'll end up. I think we'd better follow his advice and tie our mules as strongly as we can. Then we can go over there by the rocks, and fire at the wild horses. We may be able to turn them aside."

"Guess that's right," agreed the young inventor after a moment's thought. "Come on, Ned. Peg out!"

"Peg out! Peg out!" yelled the natives, and then began a lively scene. Pegging stakes were in readiness, and, attached to the bridle of each mule was a strong, rawhide rope for tying to the stake. The pegs were driven deeply into the ground and in a trice the animals were made fast to them, though they snorted, and tried to pull away as they heard the neighing of the stampeding animals and saw them coming on with an irresistible rush.

"Hurry!" begged San Pedro, and hurry Tom, Ned and the others did. Animal after animal was made fast—that is all but one and that bore on its back two rather large but light boxes—the contents of the case which Tom had rescued from the fire in the hold.

"What are you going to do with mule?" asked Ned, as he saw Tom begin to lead the animal away, the others having been pegged out.

"I'm going to take him over to the rocks with me. I'm not going to take any chances on this mule getting away with those things in the boxes. Give me a hand here, and then we'll see what the electric rifles will do against those horses."

But the one mule which Tom had elected to take with him seemed to resent being separated from his companions. Bracing his feet well apart, the animal stubbornly refused to move.

"Come on!" yelled Tom, pulling on the leading rope.

"Bless my porous plaster!" cried Mr. Damon. "You'd better hurry, Tom! Those wild horses are almost on us!"

"I'm trying to hurry!" replied the young inventor, "but this mule won't come. Ned, get behind and shove, will you?"

"Not much! I don't want to be kicked."

"Beat him! Strike him! Wait until I get a club!" yelled San Pedro. "Come, Antonia, Selka, Balaka!" he cried, to several of the natives who had already started for the sheltering rocks a short distance away. "Beat the mule for Senor Swift!"

Ned joined Tom at the leading rope, and the two lads tried to pull the animal along. Mr. Damon rushed over to lend his aid, and San Pedro, catching up a long stick, was about to bring it down on the mule's back. Meanwhile the stampeding animals were rushing nearer.

"Hold on dere, Massa Tom!" suddenly called Eradicate. "Yo'-all done flustered dat mule, dat's what yo' done. Yo'-all am too much excited 'bout him. Be calm! Be calm!"

"Calm! With that bunch of wild animals bearing down on us?" shouted Tom. "Let's see you be calm, Rad. Come on here, you obstinate brute!" he cried, straining on the rope.

"Let me do it, Massa Tom. Let me do it," suggested the colored man hurrying to the balky beast.

Then, as gently as if he was talking to a nervous child, and totally oblivious to the danger of the approaching horses, Eradicate went up to the mule's head, rubbed its ears until they pointed naturally once more, murmured something to it, and then, taking the rope from Ned and Tom, Eradicate led the mule along toward the rocks as easily as if there had never been any question about going there.

"For the love of tripe! How did you do it?" asked Tom.

"Bless my peck of oats!" gasped Mr. Damon. "It's a good thing we had Rad along!"

"All mules am alike," said the colored man with a grin. "An dish yeah one ain't much different from mah Boomerang. I guess he's a sorter cousin."

"Come on!" yelled San Pedro. "No time to lose. Make for the rocks!"

Tom, Ned and Mr. Damon sprinted then, and there was need to, for the foremost of the galloping horses was not a hundred feet away. Then came Eradicate, leading the mule that had at last consented to hurry. The natives, with San Pedro, were already at the rocks, waiting for the white hunters with the deadly electric rifles.

"If they stampede our mules we'll be in a pickle!" murmured Ned.

"I guess those ropes will hold unless they bite them through," remarked Tom.

"Yes, they sure hold," cried San Pedro, and indeed one had to shout now to be heard above the thundering of the horses. Now the tethered mules were lost to sight in the multitude of the other steeds all about them.

"Come on, Ned!" yelled Tom, as he sighted his rifle. "Pump it into them! We must turn them, or they may come over this way, and if they do it will be all up with us."

"Shoot to kill?" asked Ned, as he drew back the firing lever of his electric rifle.

"No, only a stunning charge. Those horses are valuable, and there's no use killing them. All we want to do is to turn them aside."

"That's right," agreed Mr. Damon, forgetting in the excitement of the moment to bless himself or anything. "We'll only stun them."

The rifles were quickly adjusted to send out a comparatively weak charge of electricity, and then they were trained on the dense mass of horses, while the three marksmen began working the firing levers.

At first, though horse after horse fell to the ground, stunned, there was no appreciable effect on the thousands in the drove. The poor mules were hidden from sight, though by reason of divisions in the living stream of animals it could still be told where they were tethered, and where the horses separated to go past them. Fortunately the ropes and pegs held.

"Fire faster!" cried Tom. "Shoot across the front of them, and try to turn them to one side."

From the rocks, behind which the natives and our friends crouched, there came a steady stream of electric fire. Horse after horse went down, stunned but not badly hurt, and in a few hours the beasts would feel no ill effects. The firing was redoubled, and then there came a break in the steady stream of horseflesh.

Some hesitated and sought to turn back. Others, behind, pressed them on, and then, as if in fear at the unknown and unseen power that was laying low animal after animal, the great body, of horses, suddenly turned at right angles to their course and broke away. There were now two bodies of the wild runaways, those that had passed the tethered mules, and those that had swung off. The stampede had been broken.

"That's the stuff!" cried Tom, jumping up from behind the rocks, and swinging his hat. "We've turned them."

"And just in time, too," added Ned, as he joined his chum. Then all the others leaped up, and the sight of the human beings completed the scare. The stampeding animals swung off more than before, so that they were nearly doubling back on their own trail. The others thundered off, and the ground was strewn with unconscious though unharmed animals.

"One mule gone!" cried San Pedro, hastily counting the still tethered animals which were wildly tugging at their ropes.

"Never mind," spoke Tom, "it's the one with some of that damaged bartering stuff I intended for trading. We can afford to lose that. Rad, is your animal all right?"

"He suah am, Massa Tom. Dish yeah mule am almost as sensible as Boomerang, ain't yo'?" and Eradicate patted the big animal he was leading.

"I'll send a man down the trail, and maybe he can pick up the missing one," said San Pedro, and while the other natives were quieting the restless mules, one tall black man hastened in the wake of the retreating horses.

He came back in an hour with the missing animal, that had broken its tether rope and then, after running along with the wild horses had evidently dropped out of the drove. Aside from the loss of a small box, there had been no damage done, and the cavalcade was soon under way once more, leaving the motionless horses to recover from the effects of the electricity.

"Bless my saddle pad!" cried Mr. Damon. "I don't think I want to go through anything like that again."

"Neither do I," agreed Tom. "We are well out of it."

"How much you take for one of them rifles?" asked San Pedro admiringly.

"Not for sale," answered Tom with a laugh.

They camped in a fertile valley that night, and had a much-needed rest. As yet Tom had made no inquiries as to the location of giant land from any of the natives of the villages or towns through which they passed. He knew as soon as he did begin asking questions, his own men would hear of it, and they might be frightened if they knew they were in an expedition the object of which was to capture some of the tall men.

"We'll just go along for a few days more," said Tom, to Ned, "and then, when I do spring my surprise, they'll be so far from home that they won't dare turn back. In a few days I'll begin making inquiries."

They traveled on for three days more, ever heading north, and coming more into the warmer climate. The vegetation began to take on a more tropical look, and finally they reached a region infested with many wild beasts and monkeys, and with patches of dense jungle on either side of the narrow trail. Fruits, tropical flowers and birds abounded.

"I think we're getting there," remarked Tom, on the evening of the third day after his talk with Ned. "San Pedro says there's quite a village about half a day's march ahead, and I may learn something there. I'll know by to-morrow whether we are on the right trail or not."

The natives were getting supper, and Eradicate was busy with a meal for the three white hunters. Mr. Damon had strolled down to the bank of a little stream, and was looking at some small animals like foxes that had come for their evening drink. They seemed quite fearless.

Suddenly something long, round and thick seemed to drop down out of a tree close to the odd gentleman. So swift and noiseless was it that Mr. Damon never noticed it. Then, like a flash something went around him, and he let out a scream of terror.

San Pedro, who was nearest to him, saw and heard. The next instant the black muleteer came rushing toward the camp, crying:

"He is caught in a rope! Mr. Damon is caught in a rope!"

"A rope!" repeated Ned, not understanding.

"Yes, a rope in a tree. Come quickly!"

Tom caught up one of the electric rifles and rushed forward. No sooner had he set eyes on his friend, who was writhing about in the folds of what looked like a big ship cable, then the young inventor cried:

"A rope! Yes, a living rope! That's a big boa constrictor that has Mr. Damon! Get a gun, Ned, and follow me! We must save him before he is crushed to death!"

And the two lads rushed forward while the living rope drew its folds tighter and tighter about the unfortunate man.



CHAPTER XII

A NATIVE BATTLE

"Bless my—!" but that was as far as poor Mr. Damon could get. The breath was fairly squeezed out of him by the folds of the great serpent that had dropped down out of the tree to crush him to death. His head fell forward on his breast, and his arms were pinioned to his sides.

"Quick, Ned!" cried Tom. "We must fire together! Be careful not to hit Mr. Damon!"

"That's right. I'll take the snake on one side, Tom, and you on the other!"

"No! Then we might hit each other. Come on my side. Aim for the head, and throw in the highest charge. We want to kill, not stun!"

"Right!" gasped Ned, as he ran forward at his chum's side.

San Pedro, and the other natives, could do nothing. In the gathering twilight, broken by the light of several campfires, they stood helpless watching the two plucky youths advance to do battle with the serpent. Eradicate had caught up a club, and had dashed forward to do what he could, but Tom motioned him back.

"We can manage," spoke the young inventor.

Then he and Ned crept on with ready rifles. The snake raised its ugly head and hissed, ceasing for a moment to constrict its coils about the unfortunate man.

"Now's our chance—fire!" hoarsely whispered Ned.

It seemed as if the big snake heard, for, raising its head still higher, it fairly glared at Ned and Tom. It was the very chance they wanted, for they could now fire without the danger of hitting Mr. Damon.

"Ready?" asked Tom of his chum in a low voice.

"Ready!" was the equally low answer.

It was necessary to kill the serpent at one shot, as to merely wound it might mean that in its agony it would thresh about, and seriously injure, if not kill, Mr. Damon.

"Fire!" called Tom in a whisper, and he and Ned pressed the triggers of the electric rifles on the same instant.

There was a streak of bluish flame that cut like a sliver through the gathering darkness, and then, as though a blight had fallen upon it, the folds of the great snake relaxed, and Mr. Damon slipped to the ground unconscious. The electric charges had gone fairly through the head of the serpent and it had died instantly.

"Quick! Mr. Damon! We must get him away!" cried Tom. "He may be dead!"

Together the chums sprang forward. The folds of the serpent had scarcely ceased moving before the two youths snatched their friend away. Dropping their rifles, they lifted him up to bear him to the sleeping tent which had been erected.

"Liver pin!" suddenly ejaculated Mr. Damon. It was what he started to say when the serpent had squeezed the breath out of him, and, on regaining consciousness from his momentary faint, his brain carried out the suggestion it had originally received.

"How are you?" cried Tom, nearly dropping Mr. Damon's legs in his excitement, for he had hold of his feet, while Ned was at the head.

"Are you all right?" gasped Ned.

"Yes—I—I guess so. I—I feel as though I had been put through a clothes wringer though. What happened?"

"A big snake dropped down out of a tree and grabbed you," answered Tom.

"And then what? Put me down, boys, I guess I can walk."

"We shot it," said Ned modestly.

"Bless my insurance policy!" exclaimed the odd gentleman. "I—I hardly know what to say. I'll say it later. You saved my life. Let me see if any bones are broken."

None was, fortunately, and after staggering about a bit Mr. Damon found that he could limp along. But he was very sore and bruised, for, though the snake had squeezed him but for part of a minute, that was long enough. A few seconds more and nearly every bone in his body would have been crushed, for that is the manner in which a constrictor snake kills its prey before devouring it.

"Santa Maria! The dear gentleman is not dead then?" cried San Pedro, as the three approached the tents.

"Bless my name plate, no!" exclaimed Mr. Damon.

"Praise to all the saints! The brave young senors with their wonderful guns saved him. Now you must rest and sleep."

"I feel as if that was all I wanted to do for a month," commented Mr. Damon. His soreness and stiffness increased each minute, and he was glad to get to bed, while the boys and Eradicate rubbed his limbs with liniment. San Pedro knew of a leaf that grew in the jungle which, when bruised, and made into poultices, had the property of drawing out soreness. The next day he found some, and Mr. Damon was wrapped up in bandages until he declared that he looked like an Egyptian mummy.

But the leaf poultices did him good, and in a few days he was able to be about, though he was still a trifle stiff. Of course the cavalcade had to halt in the woods, but they did not mind this as they had traveled well up to this time, and the enforced rest was appreciated.

"Well, do you feel able to move along?" asked Tom of Mr. Damon one morning, about a week later, for they were still in the "snake camp," as they called it in memory of the big serpent.

"Oh, yes, I think so, Tom. Where are you going?"

"I want to push on to the next village. There I hope to get some line on giant land, and really I ought to begin making inquiries soon. San Pedro and the others are wondering what our object is, for we haven't collected any specimens of either flowers or animals, or the snake skin, and he thinks we are a sort of scientific expedition."

"Well, let's travel then. I'm able."

So they started off once more along the jungle and forest trail. As San Pedro had predicted, they came upon evidences of a native village. Scattered huts, made of plastered mud and grass, with thatched roofs of palm leaves, were met with, as they advanced, but none of the places seemed to be inhabited, though rude gardens around them showed that they had been the homes of natives up to recently.

"No one seems to be at home," remarked Tom, when they had gone past perhaps half a dozen of these lonely huts.

"I wonder what can be the matter?" asked Ned. "It looks as if they had gone off in a hurry, too. Maybe there's been some sort of epidemic."

"No, no sickness," said San Pedro. "Natives no sick."

"Bless my liver pill!" cried Mr. Damon, who was almost himself again. "Then what is it?"

"Much fight, maybe."

"Much fight?" repeated Tom.

"Yes, tribes at war. Maybe natives go away so as not be killed."

"By Jove!" exclaimed the young inventor. "That's so. I forgot about what Mr. Preston said. There's a native war going on around here. Well, when we get to the town we can find out more about it, and steer clear of the two armies, if we have to."

But as they went farther on, the evidences of a native war became more pronounced. They passed several huts that had been burned, and the native mule drivers began showing signs of fear.

"I don't like this," murmured Tom to his chum. "It looks bad."

"What can you do?"

"Nothing, I guess. We've got to keep on. No use turning back now. Maybe the two rival forces have annihilated each other, and there aren't any fighters left."

At that moment there arose a cry from some of the natives who, with the mules and their burdens, had pressed on ahead.

"What's that?" exclaimed Tom.

"Something's happened!" gasped Ned.

"Bless my cartridge box!" cried Mr. Damon.

The three went forward and came to a little hill. They looked down into a valley—a valley that had sheltered a native village, but the village was no more. It was but a heap of blackened and fire-scarred ruins, and there were still clouds of smoke arising from the grass huts, showing that the enemy had but recently made their assault on the place.

"Bless my heart!" cried Mr. Damon. "The whole place has been wiped out."

"Not one hut left," added Ned.

"Hark!" cried Tom.

An instant later there arose, off in the woods, a chorus of wild yells. It was followed by the weird sound of tom-toms and the gourd and skin drums of the natives. The shouting noise increased, and the sound of the war drums also.

"Look!" cried Mr. Damon, pointing to a distant hill, and there the boys saw two large bodies of natives rushing toward one another, brandishing spears, clubs and the deadly blow guns.

They were not more than half a mile away, and in plain view of Tom and his party, though the two forces had not yet seen our friends.

"They're going to fight!" cried Tom.

And the next moment the two bodies of natives came together in a mass, the enemies hurling themselves at each other with the eagerness and ferocity of wild beasts. It was a deadly battle.



CHAPTER XIII

THE DESERTION

"Say, look at those fellows pitch into one another!" gasped Ned.

"It's fighting at close range all right," commented Mr. Damon.

"If they had rifles they wouldn't be at it hand to hand," spoke Tom. "Maybe it's just as well they haven't, for there won't be so many killed. But say, we'd better be thinking of ourselves. They may make up their quarrel and turn against us any minute."

"No—never—no danger of them being friends—they are rival tribes," said San Pedro. "But either one may attack us—the one that is the victor. It is better that we keep away."

"I guess you're right," agreed Tom. "Lead the way, San Pedro, and we'll get out of sight."

But there was a fascination in watching the distant battle that was hard to resist. It was like looking at a moving picture, for at that distance none of the horrors of war were visible. True, natives went down by scores, and it was not to be doubted but what they were killed or injured, but it seemed more like a big football scrimmage than a fight.

"This is great!" cried Tom. "I like to watch it, but I'm sorry for the poor chaps that get hurt or killed. I hope they're only stunned as we stunned the wild horses."

"I'm afraid it is more serious than that," spoke San Pedro. "These natives are very bloodthirsty. It would not be well for us to incur their anger."

"We won't run any chances," decided Tom. "We'll just travel on. Come on, Ned—Mr. Damon."

As he spoke there was a sudden victorious shout from the scene of the battle. One body of natives was seen to turn and flee, while the others pursued them.

"Now's our time to make tracks!" called Tom. "We'll have to push on to the next village before we can ask where the gi—" he caught himself just in time, for San Pedro was looking curiously at him.

"The senor wishes to find something?" asked the head mule driver with an insinuating smile.

"Yes," broke in Eradicate. "We all is lookin' fo' some monstrous giant orchards flowers."

"Ah, yes, orchids," spoke San Pedro. "Well, there may be some in the jungle ahead of us, but the senors have come the wrong trail for flowers," and he looked curiously at Tom, while, from afar, come the sound of the native battle though the combatants could no longer be seen.

"Never mind," said our hero quickly. "I guess I'll find what I want. Now come on."

They started off, skirting the burned village to get on the trail beyond it. But hardly had they made a detour of the burned huts than one of the native drivers, who was in the rear, came riding up with a shout.

"Now what's the matter?" cried Tom, looking back.

There was a voluble chattering in Spanish between the driver and San Pedro.

"He says the natives that lived in this village have driven their enemies away, and are coming back—after us," translated the head mule driver.

"After us!" gasped Ned.

"Yes," replied San Pedro simply. "They are coming even now. They will fight too, for all their wild nature is aroused."

It needed but a moment's listening to prove this. From the rear came wild yells and the beating of drums and tom-toms.

"Bless my fountain pen!" cried Mr. Damon. "What are we going to do?"

"Stop them if we can," answered Tom coolly. "Ned, you and I and Mr. Damon will form a rear guard. San Pedro, take the mules and the men, and make as good time as you can in advance. We'll take three of the fastest mules, and hold these fellows back with the electric rifles, and when we've done that we'll ride on and catch up to you."

"Very good," said San Pedro, who seemed relieved to know that he did not have to do any of the fighting.

Three of the lighter weight mules, who carried small burdens, were quickly relieved of them, and mounting these steeds in preference to the ones they had been riding since they took the trail, Tom, Ned and Mr. Damon dropped back to try and hold off the enemy.

They had not far to ride nor long to wait. They could hear the fierce yells of the victorious tribesmen as they came back to their ruined village, and though there were doubtless sad hearts among them, they rejoiced that they had defeated their enemies. They knew they could soon rebuild the simple grass huts.

"Small charges, just to stun them!" ordered Tom, and the electric rifles were so adjusted.

"Here's a good place to meet them," suggested Ned, as they came to a narrow turn in the trail. "They can't come against us but a few at a time, and we can pump them full of electricity from here."

"The very thing!" cried Tom, as he dismounted, an example followed by the others. Then, in another moment, they saw the blacks rushing toward them. They were clad in nondescript garments, evidently of their own make, and they carried clubs, spears, bows and arrows and blow guns. There was not a firearm among them, as they passed on after the party of our friends whom they had seen from the battle-hill. They gave wild yells as they saw the young inventor's friends.

"Let 'em have it!" called Tom in a low voice, and the electric rifles sent out their stunning charges. Several natives in the front rank dropped, and there was a cry of fear and wonder from the others. Then, after a moment's hesitation they pressed on again.

"Once more!" cried Tom.

Again the electric rifles spoke, and half a score went down unconscious, but not seriously hurt. In a few hours they would be as well as ever, such was the merciful charge that Tom Swift and the others used in the rifles.

The third time they fired, and this was too much for the natives. They could not battle against an unseen and silent enemy who mowed them down like a field of grain. With wild yells they fled back along the trail they had come.

"I guess that does it!" cried Tom. "We'd better join the others now."

Mounting their mules, they galloped back to where San Pedro and his natives were pressing forward.

"Did you have the honor of defeating them," the head mule driver asked.

"I had the HONOR," answered Tom, with a grim smile.

Then they pressed on, but there was no more danger. That night they camped in a peaceful valley and were not disturbed, and the following day they put a good many miles behind them. On the advice of San Pedro, they avoided the next two villages as they realized that they were in the war zone, and then they headed for a large town where Tom was sure he would hear some news of the giants.

They had to camp twice at night before reaching this town, and when they did get to it they were warmly welcomed, for white explorers had been there years before, and had treated the natives well. Tom distributed many trinkets among the head men and won their good will so that the party was given comfortable huts in which to sleep, and a plentiful supply of provisions.

"Can you arrange for a talk with the chief?" asked Tom of San Pedro that night. "I want to ask him about certain things."

"About where you can find giant flowers?" asked the mule driver with a quick look.

"Yes—er—and other giant things," replied Tom. "I fix," answered San Pedro shortly, but there was a queer look on his face.

A few hours later Tom was summoned to the hut of the chief of the town, and thither he went with Ned, Mr. Damon and San Pedro as interpreter, for the natives spoke a jargon of their own that Tom could not understand.

There were some simple ceremonies to observe, and then Tom found himself facing the chief, with San Pedro by his side. After the greetings, and an exchange of presents, Tom giving him a cheap phonograph with which the chief was wildly delighted, there came the time to talk.

"Ask him where the giant men live?" our hero directed San Pedro, believing that the time had now come to disclose the object of his expedition.

"Giant men, Senor Swift? I thought it was giant plants—orchids—you were after," exclaimed San Pedro.

"Well, I'll take a few giant men if I can find them. Tell him I understand there is a tribe of giants in this country. Ask him if he ever heard of them."

San Pedro hesitated. He looked at Tom, and the young inventor fancied that there was a tinge of white on the swarthy face of the chief mule driver. But San Pedro translated the question.

Its effect on the chief was strange. He half leaped from his seat, and stared at Tom. Then he uttered a cry—a cry of fear—and spoke rapidly.

"What does he say?" asked Tom of San Pedro eagerly, when the chief had ceased speaking.

"He say—he say," began the mule driver and the words seemed to stick in his throat—"he say there ARE giants—many miles to the north. Terrible big men—very cruel—and they are fearful. Once they came here and took some of his people away. He is afraid of them. We are ALL afraid of them," and San Pedro looked around apprehensively, as though he might see one of the giants stalking into the chief's hut at any moment.

"Ask him how many miles north?" asked Tom, hardly able to conceal his delight. The giants had no terrors for him.

"Two weeks journey," translated San Pedro.

"Good!" cried the young inventor. "Then we'll keep right on. Hurrah! I'm on the right track at last, and I'll have a giant for the circus and we may be able to rescue Mr. Poddington!"

"Is the senor in earnest?" asked San Pedro, looking at Tom curiously. "Is he really going among these terrible giants?"

"Yes, but I don't believe they'll be so terrible. They may be very gentle. I'm sure they'll be glad to come with me and join a circus—some of them—and earn a hundred dollars a week. Of course we're going on to giant land!"

"Very good," said San Pedro quietly, and then he followed Tom out of the chief's hut.

"It's all right, Ned old sport, we'll get to giant land after all!" cried Tom to his chum as they reached the hut where they were quartered.

The next morning when Tom got up, and looked for San Pedro and his men, to give orders about the march that day, the mule drivers were nowhere to be seen. Nor were the mules in the places where they had been tethered. Their packs lay in a well ordered heap, but the animals and their drivers were gone.

"This is queer," said Tom, rubbing his eyes to make sure that he saw aright. "I wonder where they are? Rad, look around for them."

The colored man did so, and came back soon, to report that San Pedro and his men had gone in the night. Some of the native villagers told him so by signs, Eradicate said. They had stolen away.

"Gone!" gasped Tom. "Gone where?"

"Bless my railroad ticket!" cried Mr. Damon.

"We're deserted," exclaimed Ned. "They've taken the mules, and left us."

"I guess that's it," admitted Tom ruefully, after a minute's thought. "San Pedro couldn't stand for the giants. He's had a frightful flunk. Well, we're all alone, but we'll go on to giant land anyhow! We can get more mules. A little thing like this can't phase me. Are you with me, Ned—Mr. Damon—Eradicate?"

"Of course we are!" they cried without a moment's hesitation.

"Then we'll go to giant land alone!" exclaimed Tom. "Come on, now, and we'll see if we can arrange for some pack animals."



CHAPTER XIV

IN GIANT LAND

When it first became sure that San Pedro and the other natives had deserted—fled in the night, for fear of the giants—there was a reactionary feeling of despondency and gloom among Tom and his three friends. But the boldness and energy of the young inventor, his vigorous words, his determination to proceed at any cost to the unknown land that lay before them—these served as a tonic, and after a few moments, Ned, Mr. Damon, and even Eradicate looked at things with brighter spirits.

"Do you really mean it, Tom?" asked Ned. "Will you go on to giant land?"

"I surely will, if we can find it. Why, we found the city of gold all alone, you and Mr. Damon and I, and I don't see why we can't find this land, especially when all we have to do is to march forward."

"But look at the lot of stuff we have to carry!" went on Ned, waving his hand toward the heap of packs that the mule drivers had left behind.

"Bless my baggage check, yes!" added Mr. Damon. "We can never do it. Tom. We had better leave it here, and try to get back to civilization."

"Never!" cried Tom. "I started off after a giant, and I'm going to get one, if I can induce one of the big men to come back with me. I'm not going to give up when we're so close. We can get more pack animals, I'm sure. I'm going to have a try for it. If I can't speak the language of these natives I can make signs. Come on, Ned, we'll pay a morning visit to the chief."

"I'll come along," added Mr. Damon.

"That's right," replied the young inventor. "Rad, you go stand guard over our stuff. Some of the natives might not be able to withstand temptation. Don't let them touch anything."

"Dat's what I won't, Massa Tom. Good land a massy! ef I sees any ob 'em lay a finger on a pack I'll shoot off my shotgun close to der ears, so I will. Oh, ef I only had Boomerang here, he could carry mos' all ob dis stuff his own se'f."

"You've got a great idea of Boomerang's strength," remarked Tom with a laugh, as he and Ned and Mr. Damon started for the big hut where the chief lived.

"Do you really think San Pedro and the others left because they were afraid of the giants we might meet?" asked Ned.

"I think so," answered his chum.

"Bless my toothpick!" gasped Mr. Damon. "In that case maybe we'd better be on the lookout ourselves."

"Time enough to worry when we get there," answered the young inventor. "From what the circus man said the giants are not particularly cruel. Of course Mr. Preston didn't have much information to go on, but—well, we'll have to wait—that's all. But I'm sure San Pedro and the others were in a blue funk and vamoosed on that account."

"Hey, Massa Tom!" suddenly called Eradicate. "Heah am a letter I found on de baggage," and he ran forward with a missive, rudely scrawled on a scrap of paper.

"It's from San Pedro," remarked Tom after a glance at it, "and it bears out what I said. He writes that he and his men never suspected that we were going after the giants, or they would never have come with us. He says they are very sorry to leave us, as we treated them well, but are afraid to go on. He adds that they have taken enough of our bartering goods to make up their wages, and enough food to carry them to the next village."

"Well," finished Tom. as he folded the paper, "I suppose we can't kick, and, maybe after all, it will be for the best. Now to see if the chief can let us have some mules."

It took some time, by means of signs, to make the chief understand what had happened, but, when Tom had presented him with a little toy that ran by a spring, and opened up a pack of trading goods, which he indicated would be exchanged for mules, or other beasts of burden, the chief grinned in a friendly fashion, and issued certain orders.

Several of his men hurried from the big hut, and a little later, when Tom was showing the chief how to run the toy, there was a sound of confusion outside.

"Bless my battle axe!" cried Mr. Damon. "I hope that's not another war going on."

"It's our new mules!" cried Ned, taking a look. "And some cows and a bony horse or two, Tom. We've drawn a rich lot of pack animals!"

Indeed there was a nondescript collection of beasts of burden. There were one or two good mules, several sorry looking horses, and a number of sleepy-eyed steers. But there were enough of them to carry all the boxes and bales that contained the outfit of our friends.

"It might be worse," commented Tom. "Now if they'll help us pack up we'll travel on."

More sign language was resorted to, and the chief, after another present had been made to him, sent some of his men to help put the packs on the animals. The steers, which Tom did not regard with much favor, proved to be better than the mules, and by noon our friends were all packed up again, and ready to take the trail. The chief gave them a good dinner,—as native dinners go,—and then, after telling them that, though he had never seen the giants it had long been known that they inhabited the country to the north, he waved a friendly good-bye.

"Well, we'll see what luck we'll have by ourselves," remarked Tom, as he mounted a bony mule, an example followed by Ned, Mr. Damon and Eradicate, They had left behind some of their goods, and so did not have so much to carry. Food they had in condensed form and they were getting into the more tropical part of the country where game abounded.

It was not as easy as they had imagined it would be for, with only four to drive so many animals, several of the beasts were continually straying from the trail, and once a big steer, with part of the aeroplane on its back, wandered into a morass and they had to labor hard to get the animal out.

"Well, this is fierce!" exclaimed Tom, at the end of the first day when, tired and weary, bitten by insects, and torn by jungle briars, they made camp that night.

"Going to give up?" asked Ned.

"Not much!"

They felt better after supper, and, tethering the animals securely, they stretched out in their tents, with mosquito canopies over them to keep away the pestering insects.

"I've got a new scheme," announced Tom next morning at breakfast.

"What is it? Going on the rest of the way in the aeroplane?" asked Ned hopefully.

"No, though I believe if I had brought the big airship along I could have used it. But I mean about driving the animals. I'm going to make a long line of them, tying one to the other like the elephants in the circus when they march around, holding each other's tails. Then one of us will ride in front, another in the rear, and one on each side. In that way we'll keep them going and they won't stray off."

"Bless my button hook!" cried Mr. Damon. "That's a good idea, Tom!" It was carried out with much success, and thereafter they traveled better.

But even at the best it was not easy work, and more than once Tom's friends urged him to turn back. But he would not, ever pressing on, with the strange land for his goal. They had long since passed the last of the native villages, and they had to depend on their own efforts for food. Fortunately they did not have any lack of game, and they fared well with what they had with them in the packs.

Occasionally they met little bands of native hunters, and, though usually these men fled at the sight of our friends, yet once they managed to make signs to one, who, informed them as best he could, that giant land was still far ahead of them.

Twice they heard distant sounds of native battles and the weird noise of the wooden drums and the tom-toms. Once, as they climbed up a big hill, they looked down into a valley and saw a great conflict in which there must have been several thousand natives on either side. It was a fierce battle, seen even from afar, and Tom and the others shuddered as they slipped down over the other side of the rise, and out of sight.

"We'd better steer clear of them," was Tom's opinion; and the others agreed with him.

For another week they kept on, the way becoming more and more difficult, and the country more and more wild. They had fairly to cut their way through the jungle at times, and the only paths were animal trails, but they were better than nothing. For the last five days they had not seen a human being, and the loneliness was telling on them.

"I'd be glad to see even a two-headed giant," remarked Tom whimsically one night as they made their camp.

"Yes, and I'd be glad to hear someone talk, even in the sign language," added Ned, with a grin.

They slept well, for they were very tired, and Tom, who shared his tent with Ned, was awakened rather early the next morning by hearing someone moving outside the canvas shelter.

"Is that you, Mr. Damon?" he asked, the odd gentleman having a tent adjoining that of the boys.

There was no answer.

"Rad, are you getting breakfast?" asked the young inventor. "What time is it?"

Still no answer.

"What's the matter?" asked Ned, who had been awakened by Tom's inquiries.

Before our hero had a chance to reply the flap of his tent was pulled back, and a head was thrust in. But such a head! It was enormous! A head covered with a thick growth of tawny hair, and a face almost hidden in a big tawny, bushy beard. Then an arm was thrust in—an arm that terminated in a brawny fist that clasped a great club. There was no mistaking the object that gazed in on the two youths. It was a gigantic man—a man almost twice the size of any Tom had ever seen. And then our hero knew that he had reached the end of his quest.

"A giant!" gasped Tom. "Ned! Ned, we're in the big men's country, and we didn't know it!"

"I—I guess you're right, Tom!"

The giant started at the sounds of their voices, and then his face breaking into a broad grin, that showed a great mouth filled with white teeth, he called to them in an unknown tongue and in a voice that seemed to fairly shake the frail tent.



CHAPTER XV

IN THE "PALACE" OF THE KING

For a few moments after their first ejaculations neither Tom nor Ned knew what to do. The giant continued to gaze at them, with the same good-natured grin on his face. Possibly he was amused at the small size of the persons in the tent. Then Tom spoke.

"He doesn't look as if he would bite, Ned."

"No, he seems harmless enough. Let's get up, and see what happens. I wonder if there are any more of them? They must have come out on an early hunt, and stumbled upon our camp."

At this moment there arose a cry from Mr. Damon's tent.

"Bless my burglar alarm!" shouted the odd gentleman. "Tom—Ned—am I dreaming? There's a man here as big as a mountain. Tom! Ned!"

"It's all right, Mr. Damon!" called Tom. "We're among the giants all right. They won't hurt you."

"Fo' de good land ob massy!" screamed Eradicate, a second later, and then they knew that he, too, had seen one of the big men. "Fo' de lub ob pork chops! Am dis de Angel Gabriel? Listen to de blowin' ob de trump! Oh, please good Massa Angel Gabriel, I ain't nebber done nuffin! I's jest po' ol' Eradicate Sampson, an' I got a mule Boomerang, and' dat's all I got. Please good Mr. Angel—"

"Dry up, Rad!" yelled Tom. "It's only one of the giants. Come on out of your tent and get breakfast. We're on the borders of giant land, evidently, and they seem as harmless as ordinary men. Get up, everybody."

As Tom spoke he rose from the rubber blanket on which he slept. Ned did the same, and the giant slowly pulled his head out from the tent. Then the two youths went outside. A strange sight met their gaze.

There were about ten natives standing in the camp—veritable giants, big men in every way. The young inventor had once seen a giant in a circus, and, allowing for shoes with very thick soles which the big man wore, his height was a little over seven feet. But these South American giants seemed more than a foot higher than that, none of those who had stumbled upon the camp being less than eight feet.

"And I believe there must be bigger ones in their land, wherever that is," said Tom. Nor were these giants tall and thin, as was the one Tom had seen, but stout, and well proportioned. They were savages, that was evident, but the curious part of it was that they were almost white, and looked much like the pictures of the old Norsemen.

But, best of all, they seemed good-natured, for they were continually laughing or smiling, and though they looked with wonder on the pile of boxes and bales, and on the four travelers, they seemed more bewildered and amused, than vindictive that their country should have been invaded. Evidently the fears of the natives who had told Tom about the giants had been unfounded.

By this time Mr. Damon and Eradicate had come from their tents, and were gazing with startled eyes at the giants who surrounded them.

"Bless my walking stick!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "Is it possible?"

"Yes, we've arrived!" cried Tom. "Now to see what happens. I wonder if they'll take us to their village, and I wonder if I can get one of these giants for Mr. Preston's circus?"

"You certainly can't unless he wants to come," declared Ned. "You'd have a hard tussle trying to carry one of these fellows away against his will, Tom."

"I sure would. I'll have to make inducements. Well, I wonder what is best to do?"

The giant who had looked in the tent of Ned and Tom, and who appeared to be the leader of the party, now spoke in his big, booming voice. He seemed to be asking Tom a question, but the young inventor could not understand the language. Tom replied in Spanish, giving a short account of why he and his companions had come to the country, but the giant shook his head. Then Mr. Damon, who knew several languages, tried all of them—but it was of no use.

"We've got to go back to signs," declared Tom, and then, as best he could, he indicated that he and the others had come from afar to seek the giants. He doubted whether he was understood, and he decided to wait until later to try and make them acquainted with the fact that he wanted one of them to come back with him.

The head giant nodded, showing that at least he understood something, and then spoke to his companions. They conversed in their loud voices for some time, and then motioned to the pack animals.

"I guess they want us to come along," said Torn, "but let's have breakfast first. Rad, get things going. Maybe the giants will have some coffee and condensed milk, though they'll have to take about ten cupsful to make them think they've had anything. Make a lot of coffee, Rad."

"But good land a massy, dey'll eat up eberyt'ing we got, Massa Tom," objected the colored man.

"Can't help it, Rad. They're our guests and we've got to be polite," replied the youth. "It isn't every day that we have giants to breakfast."

The big men watched curiously while Rad built a fire, and when the colored man was trying to break a tough stick of wood with the axe, one of the giants picked up the fagot and snapped it in his fingers as easily as though it were a twig, though the stick was as thick as Tom's arm.

"Some strength there," murmured Ned to his chum admiringly.

"Yes, if they took a notion to go on a rampage we'd have trouble. But they seem kind and gentle."

Indeed the giants did, and they liked the coffee which they tasted rather gingerly at first. After their first sip they wanted more, made as sweet as possible, and they laughed and talked among themselves while Eradicate boiled pot after pot.

"Dey suah will eat us out of house an' home, Massa Tom," he wailed.

"Never mind, Rad. They will feed us well when we get to their town."

Then the pack animals were laden with their burdens. This was always a task, but for the giants it was child's play. With one hand they would lift a box or bale that used to tax the combined strength of the four travelers, and soon the steers, horses and mules were ready to proceed. The giants went on ahead, to show the way, the first one, who seemed to be called "Oom," for that was the way his companions addressed him, walked beside Tom, who rode on a mule. In fact the giant had to walk slowly, so as not to get ahead of the animal. Oom tried to talk to Tom, but it was hard work to pick out the signs that meant something, and so neither gained much information.

Tom did gather, however, that the giants were out on an early hunt when they had discovered our friends, and their chief town lay about half a day's journey off in the jungle. The path along which they proceeded, was better than the forest trails, and showed signs of being frequently used.

"It doesn't seem possible that we are really among giants, Tom," spoke Ned, as they rode along. "I hardly believed there were giants."

"There always have been giants," declared the young inventor. "I read about them in an encyclopedia before I started on this trip. Of course there's lots of wild stories about giants, but there have really been some very big men. Take the skeleton in the museum of Trinity College, Dublin. It is eight feet and a half in height, and the living man must have even taller. There was a giant named O'Brien, and his skeleton is in the College of Physicians and Surgeons of England—that one is eight feet two inches high, while there are reliable records to show that, when living, O'Brien was two inches taller than that. In fact, according to the books, there have been a number of giants nine feet high."

"Then these chaps aren't so wonderful," replied Ned.

"Oh, we haven't seen them all yet. We may find some bigger than these fellows, though any one of these would be a prize for a museum. Not a one is less than eight feet, and if we could get one say ten feet—that WOULD be a find."

"Rather an awkward one," commented Ned.

It did not seem possible that they were really in giant land, yet such was the fact. Of course the country itself was no different from any other part of the jungle, for merely because big men lived in it did not make the trees or plants any larger.

"I tell you how I account for it," said Tom, as they traveled on. "These men originally belonged to a race of people noted for their great size. Then they must have lived under favorable conditions, had plenty of flesh and bone-forming food, and after several generations they gradually grew larger. You know that by feeding the right kind of food to animals you can make them bigger, while if they get the wrong kind they are runts, or dwarfs."

"Oh, yes; that's a well-known fact," chimed in Mr. Damon.

"Then why not with human beings?" went on Tom. "There's nothing wonderful in this."

"No, but it will be wonderful if we get away with one of these giants," spoke Ned grimly.

Further talk was interrupted by a sudden shouting on the part of the big men. Oom made some rapid motions to Tom, and a little later they emerged from the woods upon a large, grassy plain, on the other side of which could be seen a cluster of big grass and mud huts.

"There is the city of the giants!" cried Tom, and so it proved, a little later, when they got to it.

Now there was nothing remarkable about this city or native town. It was just like any other in the wilder parts of South America or Africa. There was a central place, where, doubtless, the natives gathered on market days, and from this the huts of the inhabitants stretched out in irregular lines, like streets. Off to one side of the "market square," as Tom called it, was a large hut, surrounded by several smaller ones, and from the manner in which it was laid out, and decorated, it was evident that this was the "palace" of the king, or chief ruler.

"Say, look at that fellow!" cried Ned, pointing to a giant who was just entering the "palace" as Tom dubbed the big hut. "He LOOKS eleven feet if he's an inch."

"I believe you!" cried Tom. "Say, I wonder how big the king is?"

"I don't know, but he must be a top-notcher. I wonder what will happen to us?"

Oom, who had Tom and his party in charge, led them to the "palace" and it was evident that they were going to be presented to the chief or native king. Back of our friends stretched out their pack train, the beasts carrying the boxes and bales. Surrounding them were nearly all the inhabitants of the giants' town, and when the cavalcade had come to a halt in front of the "palace," Oom raised his voice in a mighty shout. It was taken up by the populace, and then every one of them knelt down.

"I guess His Royal Highness is about to appear," said Tom grimly.

"Yes, maybe we'd better kneel, too," spoke Ned.

"Not much! We're citizens of the United States, and we don't kneel to anybody. I'm going to stand up."

"So am I!" said Mr. Damon.

An instant later the grass mat that formed the front door of the "palace" was drawn aside, and there stood confronting our hero and his friends, the King of Giant Land. And a mighty king was he in size, for he must have been a shade over ten feet tall, while on either side of him was a man nearly as big as himself.

Once more Oom boomed out a mighty shout and, kneeling as the giants were, they took it up, repeating it three times. The king raised his hand as though in blessing upon his people, and then, eyeing Tom and his three friends he beckoned them to approach.

"He wants to see us at close range," whispered the young inventor. "Come on, Ned and Mr. Damon. Trail along, Eradicate."

"Good—good land ob massy!" stammered the colored man. And then the little party advanced into the "palace" of the giant king.



CHAPTER XVI

THE RIVAL CIRCUS MAN

Tom Swift gazed fearlessly into the face of the giant ruler who confronted him. The young inventor said later that he had made up his mind that to show no fear was the only way of impressing the big king, for surely no show of strength could have done it. With one hand the giant could have crushed the life from our hero. But evidently he had no such intentions, for after gazing curiously at the four travelers who stood before him, and looking for some time at the honest, black face of Eradicate, the king made a motion for them to sit down. They did, upon grass mats in the big hut that formed the palace of the ruler.

It was not a very elaborate place, but then the king's wants were few and easily satisfied. The place was clean, Tom was glad to note.

The king, who was addressed by his subjects as Kosk, as nearly as Tom could get it, asked some questions of Oom, who seemed to be the chief of the hunters. Thereupon the man who had looked into Tom's and Ned's tent that morning, and who had followed them into the palace, began a recital of how he had found the little travelers. Though Tom and his friends could not understand a word of the language, it was comparatively easy to follow the narrative by the gestures used.

Then the king asked several questions, others of the hunting party were sent for and quizzed, and finally the ruler seemed satisfied, for he rattled off a string of talk in his deep, booming voice.

Truly he was a magnificent specimen of manhood, being as I have said, about ten feet tall, and built in proportion. On either side of him, upon rude benches covered with soft jaguar skins, sat two men, evidently his brothers, for they looked much like the king. One was called Tola and the other Koku, for the ruler addressed them from time to time, and seemed to be asking their advice.

"They're making up their minds what to do with us," murmured Tom. "I only hope they let us stay long enough to learn the language, and then I can make an offer to take one back to the United States with me."

"Jove! Wouldn't it be great if you could get the king!" exclaimed Ned.

"Oh, that's too much, but I'd like one of his brothers. They're each a good nine feet tall, and they must be as strong as horses."

In contrast to some giants of history, whose only claim to notoriety lay in their height, these giants were very powerful. Many giants have flabby muscles, but these of South America were like athletes. Tom realized this when there suddenly entered the audience chamber a youth of about our hero's age, but fully seven feet tall, and very big. He was evidently the king's son, for he wore a jaguar skin, which seemed to be a badge of royalty. He had seemingly entered without permission, to see the curious strangers, for the king spoke quickly to him, and then to Tola, who with a friendly grin on his big face lifted the lad with one hand and deposited him in a room that opened out of the big chamber.

"Did you see that!" cried Ned. "He lifted him as easily as you or I would a cat, and I'll bet that fellow weighed close to four hundred pounds, Tom."

"I should say so! It's great!"

The audience was now at an end, and Tom thought it was about time to make some sort of a present to the king to get on good terms with him. He looked out of the palace hut and saw that their pack animals were close at hand. Nearby was one that had on its back a box containing a phonograph and some records.

Making signs that he wanted to bring in some of his baggage, Tom stepped out of the hut, telling his friends to wait for him. The king and the other giants watched the lad curiously, but did not endeavor to stop him.

"I'm going to give him a little music," went on the young inventor as he adjusted the phonograph, and slipped in a record of a lively dance air. His motions were curiously watched, and when the phonograph started and there was a whirr of the mechanism, some of the giants who had crowded into the king's audience chamber, showed a disposition to run. But a word of command from their ruler stopped them.

Suddenly the music started and, coming forth as it did from the phonograph horn, in the midst of that hut, in which stood the silence-awed giants, it was like a bolt of lightning from the clear sky.

At first the king and all the others seemed struck dumb, and then there arose a mighty shout, and one word was repeated over and over again. It sounded like "Chackalok! Chackalok!" and later Tom learned that it meant wizard, magician or something like that.

Shout after shout rent the air, and was taken up by those outside, for through the open door the strains of music floated. The giants seemed immensely pleased, after their first fright, and suddenly the king, coming down from his throne, stood with his big ear as nearly inside the horn as he could get it.

A great grin spread over his face and then, approaching Tom, he leaned over, touched him once on the forehead, and uttered a word. At this sign of royal favor the other giants at once bowed to Tom.

"Say," cried Ned, "you've got his number all right! You're one of the royal family now, Tom."

"It looks like it. Well, I'm glad of it, for I want to be on friendly terms with His Royal Highness."

Once more the king addressed Tom, and the head hunter, motioning to Tom and his friends, led them out of the palace, and to a large hut not far off. This, he made himself understood by signs, was to be their resting place, and truly it was not a bad home, for it was well made. It had simple furniture in it, low couches covered with skins, stools, and there were several rooms to it.

Calling in authorative tones to his fellow hunters, Tom had them take the packs off the beasts of burdens and soon the boxes, bales and packages were carried into the big hut, which was destined to be the abiding place of our friends for some time. The animals were then led away.

"Well, here we are, safe and sound, with all our possessions about us," commented Tom, when all but Oom had withdrawn. "I guess we'll make out all right in giant land. I wonder what they have to eat? Or perhaps we'd better tackle some of our own grub."

He looked at Oom, who laughed gleefully. Then Tom rubbed his stomach, opened his mouth and pointed to it and said: "We'd like to eat—we're hungry!"

Oom boomed out something in his bass voice, grinned cheerfully, and hurried out. A little later he came back, and following him, a number of giant women. Each one bore a wooden platter or slab of bark which answered for a plate. The plates were covered with broad palm leaves, and when they had been set down on low benches, and the coverings removed, our friends saw they had food in abundance.

There was some boiled lamb, some roasted fowls, some cereal that looked like boiled rice, some sweet potatoes, a number of other things which could only be guessed at, and a big gourd filled with something that smelled like sweet cider.

"Say, this is a feast all right, after what we've been living on!" cried Tom.

Once more Oom laughed joyfully, pointing to the food and to our friends in turn.

"Oh, we'll eat all right!" exclaimed Tom. "Don't worry about that!"

The good-natured giant showed them where they could find rude wooden dishes and table implements, and then he left them alone. It was rather awkward at first, for though the bench or table looked low in comparison to the size of the room, yet it was very high, to allow for the long legs of the giants getting under it.

"If we stay here long enough we can saw off the table legs," said the young inventor. "Now for our first meal in giant land."

They were just helping themselves when there arose a great shouting outside.

"I wonder what's up now?" asked Tom, pausing with upraised fork.

"Maybe the king is coming to see us," suggested Ned.

"I'll look," volunteered Mr. Damon, as he went to the door. Then he called quickly:

"Tom! Ned! Look! It's that minister we met on the ship—Reverend Josiah Blinderpool! How in the world did he ever get here? And how strangely he's dressed!"

Well might Mr. Damon say this, for the supposed clergyman was attired in a big checked suit, a red vest, a tall hat and white canvas shoes. In fact he was almost like some theatrical performer.

The gaudily-dressed man was accompanied by two natives, and all rode mules, and there were three other animals, laden with packs on either side.

"What's his game?" mused Ned.

The answer came quickly and from the man himself. Riding forward toward the king's hut or palace, while the populace of wondering giants followed behind, the man raised his voice in a triumphant announcement.

"Here at last!" he cried. "In giant land! And I'm ahead of Tom Swift for all his tricks. I've got Tom Swift beat a mile."

"Oh, you have!" shouted our hero with a sudden resolve, as he stepped into view. "Well, you've got another guess coming. I'm here ahead of you, and there's standing room only."

"Tom Swift!" gasped the rival circus man. "Tom Swift here in ahead of me!"



CHAPTER XVII

HELD CAPTIVES

There was a great commotion among the giants. Men, women and children ran to and fro, and a number of the largest of the big men could be seen hurrying into the palace hut of King Kosk. If the arrival of Tom and his friends had created a surprise it was more than doubled when the circus man, and his small caravan, advanced into the giants' city. His approach had been unheralded because the giants were so taken up with Tom and his party that no one thought to guard the paths leading into the village. And, as a matter of fact, the giants were so isolated, they were so certain of their own strength, and they had been unmolested so many years, that they did not dream of danger.

As for our hero, he stood in the hut gazing at his rival, while Hank Delby, in turn, stared at the young inventor. Then Hank dismounted from his mule and approached Tom's hut.

"Bless my railroad ticket!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "This is a curious state of affairs! What in the world are we to do, Tom?"

"I don't know, I'm sure. We'll have to wait until we see what HE does. He's been following us all along. He was that fake minister on the boat. It's a wonder we didn't get on to him. I believe he's been trying to learn our secret ever since Mr. Preston warned us about him. Now he's here and he'll probably try to spoil our chances for getting a giant so that he may get one for himself. Perhaps Andy Foger gave him a tip about our plans."

"But can't we stop him?" asked Ned.

"I'm going to try!" exclaimed Tom grimly.

"Here he comes," spoke Mr. Damon quickly. "I wonder what he wants?"

Hank Delby had started toward the big hut that sheltered our friends, while the gathered crowd of curious giants looked on and wondered what the arrival of two white parties so close together could mean.

"Well, what do you want?" asked Tom, when, his rival had come within speaking distance.

"There's no use beating about the bush with you, Tom Swift," was the frank answer. "I may as well out with it. I came after a giant, and I'm going to get one for Mr. Waydell."

"Then you took advantage of our trail, and followed us?" asked the young inventor.

"Oh, you can put it that way if you like," replied Delby calmly. "I HAVE followed you, and a hard time I've had of it. I tried to do it quietly, but you got on to my tricks. However it doesn't matter. I'm here now, and I'm going to beat you out if I can."

"I remember now!" exclaimed Ned whispering in Tom's ear, "he was disguised as one of the mule drivers and you fired him because he had a revolver. Don't you remember, Tom?"

"That's right!" exclaimed the young inventor as he noted the face and form of Delby more closely. Then our hero added: "You played a low-down trick, Mr. Delby, and it won't do you any good. I caught you trying to sneak along in my company and I'll catch you again. I'm here first, and I've got the best right to try and get a giant for Mr. Preston, and if you had any idea of fair play—"

"All's fair in this business, Tom Swift," was the quick answer. "I'm going to do my best to beat you, and I expect you to do your best to beat me. I can't speak any fairer than that. It's war between us, from now on, and you might as well know it. One thing I will promise you, though, if there's any danger of you or your party getting hurt by these big men I'll fight on your side. But I guess they are too gentle to fight."

"We can look after ourselves," declared Tom. "And since it's to be war between us look out for yourself."

"Don't worry!" exclaimed Tom's rival with a laugh. "I've gone through a lot to get here, and I'm not going to give up without a struggle. I guess—"

But he did not finish his sentence for at that moment Oom, the big hunting giant, came up behind him, tapped him on the shoulder, and pointed to the king's hut, motioning to indicate that Mr. Delby was wanted there.

"Very good," said the circus agent in what he tried to make sound like a jolly voice, "I'm to call on his majesty; am I? Here's where I beat you to it, Tom Swift."

Tom did not answer, but there was a worried look on his face, as he turned to join his friends in the big hut. And, as he looked from a window, and saw Delby being led into the presence of Kosk, Tom could hear the strains of the big phonograph he had presented to the king.

"I guess his royal highness will remain friends with us," said Ned with a smile, as he heard the music. "He can see what a lot of presents and other things we have, and as for that Delby, he doesn't seem to have much of anything."

"Oh, I haven't shown half the things I have as yet," spoke Tom. "But I don't like this, just the same. Those giants may turn from us, and favor him on the slightest pretence. I guess we've got our work cut out for us."

"Then let's plan some way to beat him," suggested Mr. Damon. "Look over your goods, Tom, and make the king a present that will bind his friendship to us."

"I believe I will," decided the young inventor and then he and Ned began overhauling the boxes and bales, while a crowd of curious giants stood without their hut, and another throng surrounded the palace of the giant king.

"There goes Delby out to get something from his baggage," announced Ned, looking from the window. Tom saw his rival taking something from one of the packs slung across the back of a mule. Soon the circus agent hurried back into the king's hut, and a moment later there was heard the strains of a banjo being picked by an unpracticed hand. It was succeeded by a rattling tune played in good style.

"Bless my fiddlestick!" exclaimed Mr. Damon, "Does your phonograph have a banjo record, Tom?"

"No." was the somewhat hesitating answer of the young inventor. "Delby who can play a banjo himself must have given Kosk one for a present, and, like a child, the king is amused by the latest novelty. So far he has scored one on us," he added, as once more they heard the unmelodious strains of the banjo slowly picked. "The king is evidently learning to play the instrument, and he'd rather have that than a phonograph, which only winds up."

"But haven't you some other things you can give the king to off-set the banjo?" asked Mr. Damon.

"Plenty of them," replied Tom. "But if I give him—say a toy steam engine, for I have one among our things—what is to prevent Delby giving him some other novelty that will take his attention? In that way we'll sea-saw back and forth, and I guess Delby has had more experience in this business than I have. It's going to be a question which of us gets a giant."

"Bless my reserved seat ticket!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "I never heard of such a thing! But, Tom, I'm sure we'll win out."

"Get something startling to give the king," advised Ned, and Tom began opening one of the boxes that had been transported with such labor from the coast.

"Delby had much better luck with his mule drivers than we did Tom," remarked Ned as he saw the two natives standing by the pack animals of the rival circus man. "They evidently didn't get scared off by the giants."

"No, but probably he didn't tell them where they were headed for. Though, as a matter of fact, I don't believe any one has anything to fear from these big men. All they ask is to be let alone. They're not at all warlike, and I don't believe they'd attack the other natives. But probably their size makes them feared, and when our drivers heard the word 'giant' they simply wilted."

"Guess you're right. But come on, Tom. If we're going to make the king a present that will open his eyes, and get him on our side instead of Delby's, we'd better be getting at it."

"I will. This is what I'm going to give him," and Tom brought out from a box a small toy circus, with many performing animals and acrobats, the whole being worked by a small steam engine that burned alcohol for fuel. A little water put in the boiler of the toy engine, a lighting of the alcohol wick and there would be a toy that even a youngster of the United States might be proud to own.

"Mah land a massy!" exclaimed Eradicate as Tom got the apparatus ready to work. "Dat shore will please him!"

"It ought to," replied the young inventor. "Come on, now I'm ready."

Delby had not yet come from the king's hut, and as Tom and his friends, bearing the new toy, were about to leave the structure that had been set aside for their use, they saw a crowd of the giant men approaching. Each of the big men carried a club and a spear.

"Bless my eye glasses!" gasped Mr. Damon. "Something is wrong. What can it be?"

He had his answer a moment later. With a firm but gentle motion the chief giant shoved our four friends back into the hut, and then pulled the grass mat over the opening. Then, as Tom and the others could see by looking from a crack, he and several others took their position in front, while other giants went to the various windows, stationing themselves outside like sentries around a guard house.

"Bless my—" began Mr. Damon, but words failed him.

"We're prisoners!" gasped Ned.

"It looks like it," admitted Tom grimly. "Evidently Delby has carried out his threat and set the king against us. We are to be held captives here, and he can do as he pleases. Oh, why didn't I think sooner."



CHAPTER XVIII

TOM'S MYSTERIOUS BOX

The young inventor walked slowly back to the middle of the hut—a prison now it was—and sat down on a bench. The others followed his example, and the elaborate toy, with which they had hoped to win the king's favor, was laid aside. For a moment there was silence in the structure—a silence broken only by the pacing up and down of the giant guards outside. Then Eradicate spoke.

"Massa Tom," began the aged negro, "can't we git away from heah?"

"It doesn't seem so, Rad."

"Can't we shoot some of dem giants wif de 'lectric guns, an' carry a couple ob 'em off after we stun 'em like?"

"No, Rad; I'm afraid violent measures won't do, though now that you speak of the guns I think that we had better get them ready."

"You're not going to shoot any of them, are you, Tom?" asked Mr. Damon quickly.

"No, but if they continue to turn against us as easily as they have, there is no telling what may happen. If they attack us we will have to defend ourselves. But I think they are too gentle for that, unless they are unduly aroused by what misstatements Hank Delby may make against us."

"Misstatements?" inquired Ned.

"Yes. I don't doubt but what he told the king a lot of stuff that isn't true, to cause his majesty to make us captives here. Probably he said we came to destroy the giant city with magic, or something like that, and he represented himself as a simple traveler. He's used to that sort of business, for he has often tried to get ahead of Mr. Preston in securing freaks or valuable animals for the circus. He wants to make it look bad for us, and good for himself. So far he has succeeded. But I've got a plan."

"What is it?" asked Mr. Damon.

"I'll tell you when I've got it more worked out. The thing to do now is to get in shape to stand off the giants if they should attack us. This hut is pretty strong, and we can risk a siege in here. Let's arrange the boxes and bales into a sort of breastwork, and then we'll take the electric rifles inside."

This was soon done, and, though there was considerable noise attending the moving about of the boxes and bales, the giant guards did not seem at all alarmed. They did not even take the trouble to stop the work, though they looked in the windows. In a short time there was a sort of hollow square formed in the middle of the big main room, and inside of this our friends could give battle.

"And now for my plan of teaching these giants a lesson," said Tom, when this work was finished. "Ned, help me open this box," and he indicated one with his initials on in red letters.

"That's the same one you saved from the fire in the ship," commented Ned.

"Yes, and I can't put it to just exactly the use I intended, as the situation has changed—for the worse I may say. But this box will answer a good purpose," and Tom and Ned proceeded to open the mysterious case which the young inventor had transported with such care.

"Bless my cannon cracker!" exclaimed Mr. Damon who watched them. "You're as careful of that as if it contained dynamite."

"It does contain something like that," answered Tom. "It has some blasting powder in, and I was going to use it to show the giants how little their strength would prevail against the power which the white man could secure from some harmless looking powder. There are also a lot of fireworks in the box, and I intend to use them to scare these big men. That's why I was so afraid when I heard that there was a blaze near my box. I was worried for fear the ship would be blown up. But I can't use the blasting powder—at least not now. But we'll give these giants an idea of what Fourth of July looks like. Come on, Ned, we'll take a look and see from which window it will be safest to set off the rockets and other things, as I don't want to set fire to any of the grass huts."

Eradicate and Mr. Damon looked on wonderingly while Tom and his chum got out the packages of fireworks which had been kept safe and dry. As for the giant guards, if they saw through the windows what was going on, they made no effort to stop Tom.

Tom had brought along a good collection of sky rockets, aerial bombs, Roman candles and similar things, together with the blasting powder. The latter was put in a safe place in a side room, and then, with some boards, the young inventor and his chum proceeded to make a sort of firing stand. One big window opened out toward a vacant stretch of woods into which it would not be dangerous to aim the fireworks.

Building the stand took some time, and they knocked off to make a meal from the food that had been brought, and which they had been about to eat when the circus man had appeared. The food was good, and it made them feel better.