Action & Adventure Books

OFF. 'On the first day of February we three will sail from Boston for Messina, in the little fruit-ship "Wasp." We shall probably be a month going, unless we cross in a gale as I did, splitting sails every night, and standing on our heads most of the way,' said Amanda, folding up her maps with an air of calm decision. 'Hurrah! what fun!' cried Matilda, waving a half-finished... more...

CHAPTER I WHY THE "DANGER" SIGN WAS UP "Danger!" That sign might have been over an air-hole in the ice; or it might have been near rapidly moving shafting and belting in a factory. As a matter of fact, the letters, white against the red paint on the door of the shed, meant danger in the most terrible form. It was the sort of danger, which, defied too far, would send one traveling... more...

CHAPTER I Tom Swift, who had been slowly looking through the pages of a magazine, in the contents of which he seemed to be deeply interested, turned the final folio, ruffled the sheets back again to look at a certain map and drawing, and then, slapping the book down on a table before him, with a noise not unlike that of a shot, exclaimed: "Well, that is certainly one wonderful story!"... more...

Preface. In writing this book, my aim has been to give a true picture in outline of the Slave Trade as it exists at the present time on the east coast of Africa. In order to do this I have selected from the most trustworthy sources what I believe to be the most telling points of “the trade,” and have woven these together into a tale, the warp of which is composed of thick cords of fact; the woof of... more...

The Congo River. “Land ho! broad on the port bow!” The cry arose from the look-out on the forecastle of her Britannic Majesty’s 18-gun brig Barracouta, on a certain morning near the middle of the month of November, 1840; the vessel then being situated in about latitude 6 degrees 5 minutes south and about 120 east longitude. She was heading to the eastward, close-hauled on the port tack, under... more...

The Boors. Hendrik Von Bloom was a boor. My young English reader, do not suppose that I mean any disrespect to Mynheer Von Bloom, by calling him a “boor.” In our good Cape colony a “boor” is a farmer. It is no reproach to be called a farmer. Von Bloom was one—a Dutch farmer of the Cape—a boor. The boors of the Cape colony have figured very considerably in modern history. Although naturally... more...

An Explosion "Are you all ready, Tom?" "All ready, Mr. Sharp," replied a young man, who was stationed near some complicated apparatus, while the questioner, a dark man, with a nervous manner, leaned over a large tank. "I'm going to turn on the gas now," went on the man. "Look out for yourself. I'm not sure what may happen." "Neither am I, but I'm ready... more...

And how he Dined with the Admiral. We were cruising off Callao on the Pacific station when it all happened, and I daresay there are a good many others who will recollect all about it as well as myself. But to explain the matter properly I must go back a little in my dates; for, instead of Callao at the commencement of my yarn, you must read Calabar. You see, I was in the Porpoise at the time, a small... more...

Chapter I A Scrap of Paper "Tom, did you know Andy Foger was back in town?" "Great Scott, no, I didn't Ned! Not to stay, I hope." "I guess not. The old Foger homestead is closed up, though I did see a man working around it to-day as I came past. But he was a carpenter, making some repairs I think. No, I don't believe Andy is here to stay." "But if some one is... more...

The Gran Chaco. Spread before you a map of South America. Fix your eye on the point of confluence between two of its great rivers—the Salado, which runs south-easterly from the Andes mountains, and the Parana coming from the north; carry your glance up the former to the town of Salta, in the ancient province of Tucuman; do likewise with the latter to the point where it espouses the Paraguay; then up... more...