Biggles In The Jungle Part 11

Ginger, employing the same tactics as before, returned to the underground chamber. The others followed in turn, Biggles bringing up the rear. Everything remained quiet-from Biggles's point of view, suspiciously quiet. In spite of what he had said about the Tiger holding them in a trap by simply putting a guard on the stairway, he thought it was odd that no attempt had been made to dislodge them from the block of buildings in which they had sought refuge. Still, he did not overlook the fact that four desperate white men, armed with rifles, made a formidable force to capture or shoot down by sheer frontal attack.

Before going down through the trap-door Biggles 'made a short excursion to collect some tufts of dried gra.s.s; then, after a final survey of the scene, he followed the others into the chamber and allowed the slab to sink slowly into place. As soon as he was inside he twisted the dried gra.s.s into a wisp-it could hardly be called a torch-and taking the matches from Ginger, set light to it. The gra.s.s blazed up brightly so that everything could be seen. Not that there was much to see.

n.o.body spoke while the fire was alight. Biggles still had a little more gra.s.s, but as there seemed to be no point in burning it, he held it in reserve.

'Well, that's that,' he murmured, sitting on the bottom step. 'Did anyone notice anything interesting, or worth exploring?'

The others admitted that they had seen nothing worth mentioning.

'This is a funny business,' resumed Biggles. 'I still don't understand what became of the treasure.'

I wish I had the map,' remarked Eddie. 'There may have been something on it that I have forgotten. If there was, and the Tiger ever finds this place, he'll know just what to do.'

'Well, there doesn't seem to be much we can do,' returned Biggles.

Ginger started groping his way round the walls, knocking on the stones with his knuckles. 'They sound solid enough,' he observed.

.'Lumps of stone, weighing half a ton apiece, would sound solid, even it there was a cavity behind,' Biggles pointed out.

'What are we going to do?' asked Algy. 'I can't see any point in staying here.'

'There's not much point in going back to the house, if it comes to that,' answered Biggles.

'I don't want to be depressing, but I don't think we're in any shape to stay either here or in the house for more than another day. We might manage without food for a bit, but we can't do without water. I'm afraid that sooner or later we've got to risk breaking through the cordon, either by rus.h.i.+ng the steps, or trying to get out over the rocks, the way I came in. I'll tell you what. I'll go and have a scout round.'

'That sounds pretty dangerous to me,' muttered Eddie dubiously.

Biggles laughed mirthlessly. 'Whatever we do is likely to be dangerous. I'll go and make sure that the escarpment is guarded. Either way, I'll come back. If it isn't guarded we'll try to slip out.'

'Why not all go?' suggested Ginger.

'Because four people are more likely to be seen than one, and the chances of making a noise become multiplied by four. No, this is a one-man job. I don't suppose I shall be very long. Here, Algy, you take the matches; you may need them.'

Biggles groped his way up the steps. There was a faint gleam of star-spangled sky as he went through the exit; then it was blotted out as the stone sank into place. Silence fell.

For a long time n.o.body spoke in the chamber. There seemed to be nothing to say-or it may have been that they were all listening intently for the first sign of Biggles's return. In such conditions it is practically impossible to judge time correctly, but when Biggles had been gone for what Ginger thought must be nearly an hour, he commented on it.

'He's a long time,' he said anxiously, almost irritably.

I was thinking the same thing,' admitted Algy. 'If Whatever he was going to say remained unsaid, for at that moment the silence was shattered by a deafening explosion. The chamber shuddered to the force of it. A moment later came the crash and spatter of debris raining down on the roof. It sounded like a roll of distant thunder.

Ginger flung himself flat, feeling sure that the whole place was about to collapse. This was purely instinctive, for he was beyond lucid thought. So were the others. The explosion would have been bad enough had it been expected, but coming as it did without warning, it was shattering. It took Ginger several seconds to convince himself that he had not been hurt. He was the first to speak.

Are you fellows all right?' he asked in a strained voice. The others answered that they were.

'What on earth was that?' continued Ginger.

I don't know, but I'm going to find out,' replied Algy, groping his way up the steps.

Some time pa.s.sed, but he did not speak again, although the others could hear him making strange noises. He seemed to be grunting with exertion.

'What's wrong?' asked Eddie.

'Plenty,' came Algy's voice in the darkness. 'Either some rocks have fallen on the slab or else the explosion has jammed it. It won't move.'

'You mean-we're shut in?' demanded Ginger.

'That's just what I do mean,' answered Algy, rather unsteadily.

Ginger squatted down on the stone floor. Not so good,' he remarked.

'What are you grumbling about? You wanted adventure,' Algy pointed out coldly. 'Now you're getting it. I hope you're enjoying it----but I'm dashed if I am.'

14.

BIGGLES MAKES A CAPTURE.

THE first thing Biggles noticed when he left the underground chamber was that the moon was rising over the edge of the plateau. He had no time to weigh up the advantages and disadvantages of this, for as, lying flat, he began to worm his way towards the trench, he distinctly saw a dark shadow flit silently away from the side of the house which they had recently evacuated. An instant later a low mutter of voices reached his ears, but precisely where the sound came from he could not determine. The conversation was soon followed by the sound of retreating footsteps. That something was going on seemed certain, but there was no indication of what it was. Fearing that he may have been seen, he lay still for a little while, trusting to his ears to advise him of danger; but when nothing happened he felt that it was time he continued his reconnaissance.

With eyes and ears alert for danger, he reached the nearest house, and taking advantage of the deepest shadows, went on towards the ridge of rock which he could see silhouetted against the sky beyond the village. He reached the outlying boulders without incident, and there paused to survey the skyline for any movement that would reveal the position of sentries. His vigilance was rewarded when he saw the glow of a lighted cigarette. It was stationary. This at once fixed the position of at least one sentry, and Biggles was about to move forward on a course that would avoid him when a faint smell, borne on a slant of air, reached his nostrils and brought him to an abrupt halt. It was vaguely familiar, but it took him a second or two to identify it as the reek of smouldering saltpetre. Instantly realising the significance of it, he half rose up and looked behind him; hoped to discover the source of it. The next moment a column of flame shot into the air; simultaneously came the roar of an explosion, the blast of which flung him headlong. Knowing what to expect, he lay still with his hands over his head while clods of earth and pieces of rock rattled down around him and the acrid tang of dynamite filled the air.

As soon as the noise had subsided he looked back at the spot where the explosion had occurred, and saw, as he already suspected, that it was the block of houses in one of which they had first taken cover. The buildings were now a heap of ruins. It was easy enough to see what had happened. The enemy, fearing to make a frontal attack, had entered one of the rear houses and destroyed the whole block with a charge of dynamite.

Naturally, Biggles's first reaction to this unexpected event was one of thankfulness that they had left the house, otherwise they must have all been killed. That the enemy a.s.sumed this to be the case was made apparent by the way they now advanced, with much laughing and talking, from several directions. The sentries on the escarpment left their posts and joined their companions at the scene of the supposed triumph. In a few minutes the shattered houses were surrounded by groups of figures, some of which, Biggles saw with misgiving, were very near the underground chamber.

He waited to see what they would do, for upon this now depended his own actions. He was not particularly concerned about the others, although he guessed that the explosion must have given them a nasty shock. Being underground, they would be safe. He was not to know that falling masonry had piled itself on the entrance slab, making the opening of it from the inside impossible. His one fear was that Algy and Ginger would emerge in order to see what had happened, and so betray the secret hiding-place-as, indeed, might easily have happened had it been possible for them to get out. Biggles was relieved when nothing of the sort happened.

The question now arose in his mind, would a search be made at once for the bodies which were supposed to be under the ruins, or would the Tiger wait for daylight? The answer was provided when the Tiger began shouting orders, and the crowd started to disperse. As far as Biggles could gather, the Tiger had merely dismissed his men without giving any hint of his future plans. A number of figures, presumably the Tiger's personal party, remained near the ruins, and had it not been for this Biggles would probably have returned to the chamber forthwith. He did, in fact, wait for some time with this object in view, but when the Tiger showed no signs of leaving, he decided that it would be a good moment, an opportunity that might not occur again, to make contact with Dusky, who, if he did not soon show up, would presently be leaving the ravine. So Biggles decided that he would go down to him, tell him what had happened, recover his Express rifle and some biscuits, and then, if the Tiger had gone, return to the chamber. He thought it ought to be possible to do this before daylight.

His mind made up, he struck off towards the clump of p.r.i.c.kly pear in order to leave the plateau as near as possible to the spot by which he had entered it. He was not so optimistic as to hope that he would be able to find his track through the chaos of rock, but he had a pretty good idea of the general direction of the ravine, and once he reached it there should be no great difficulty in finding Dusky.

Actually, he was some time finding the ravine, for it was not an easy matter to keep a straight course through the bewildering jumble of boulders; and when he did strike it he saw that he was above the point where he had left it. This did not worry him, however, and he started making his way towards the place where he imagined Dusky would be.

When he reached it the old man was not there. He whistled softly, but there was no reply.

Rather worried, he continued on towards the stairway, no great distance.

Had not he seen the moonlight glint on the barrel of the rifle there might have been an accident, for he realised suddenly that the rifle was covering him.

He dropped behind a rock. 'Is that you, Dusky?' he asked sharply.

'Sure, ma.s.sa, dat's me,' answered Dusky with a gasp of relief. I sure nearly shot you,'

announced the old man with engaging frankness.

'What are you doing here?' asked Biggles.

'When I hear all dat shootin' and bangin' I reckon you ain't comin' back no more, so I was jest off to fetch ma.s.sa Carruthers. I'd have gone down the steps by now if dat trashy king hadn't come along.'

'King?'

Dusky explained that a few minutes earlier he was. about to descend the stairway when he heard someone approaching, coming down the steps. Withdrawing into the ravine, he saw, or thought he saw, the Tiger, with only two men, go past.

Biggles perceived that if the king had left the scene of the explosion shortly after he himself had left, he would have had ample time to reach the spot. He thought swiftly, wondering how this new aspect could be turned to his advantage. If Dusky was right, then the Tiger had probably gone down to his palace-with only two men. If he could be captured, he would be a valuable hostage. With the king in his hands, he could dictate to Bogat and his crew. He remembered also that the Tiger had the treasure map, which was a valuable doc.u.ment for more reasons than one. If he captured the king he would also gain possession of the map. It was a tempting proposition, and the only doubt in Biggles's mind was what the others would think when he did not return. Still, he thought they ought to be able to take care of themselves. Making up his mind quickly he moved towards the steps.

'Where you go now, ma.s.sa?' asked Dusky.

I'm going down to the valley to capture the king,' answered Biggles shortly.

'You what-?' Dusky faltered. He shook his head sorrowfully, but followed as obediently as a dog.

The stairway was, as far as could be ascertained, deserted, and Biggles hurried down, for time was an important factor.

Reaching the valley, he surveyed the scene. Everything was, as he hoped, quiet. The only sign of activity was a light that came from the palace. With his rifle over his arm, Biggles strode towards it, trusting that if he were seen his disguise would see him through.

As he drew nearer he observed that the light came from the French window which gave access to the room in which he and Ginger had been trapped by the Tiger's pet snake.

Suddenly a shadow moved across it, and he realised that a sentry was on duty. However, he went on into the garden and took cover behind a bush. It was now possible to see the sentry clearly. He carried a rifle at the slope.

Biggles leaned his Express against a bush and spoke quietly to Dusky. 'We've got to get that fellow out of the way,' he whispered. 'Can you think of any way of bringing him here?'

Dusky scratched his head. 'I dunno, ma.s.sa, but I'll try.' He whistled softly.

The sentry, who was pacing up and down, stopped abruptly. 'Who's there?' he called.

Biggles nudged Dusky, who whistled again.

The sentry, his curiosity aroused, began to walk slowly towards the spot. Dusky moved into the open where he could be seen. The sentry paused, then continued to move forward, his rifle at the ready.

'Who's that?' What you doing here?' he asked sharply. I got a message,' answered Dusky.

'Who for?'

Tor you.'

Upon this the sentry, seeing-as he thought-that he had only one man, a native, to deal with, proceeded with more confidence. He pa.s.sed Biggles, and peered forward to see the face of the man in front of him. This was the moment for which Biggles had waited. The b.u.t.t of his pistol came down on the sentry's head, and with a grunt the man collapsed at Dusky's feet. Biggles picked up the fallen rifle and thrust it into Dusky's hands.

'Stay here and watch him,' he ordered, and moving cautiously towards the building, saw what he had not previously noticed. The French window was open, probably on account of the heat.

Quietly, but without loss of time, taking his rifle with him, Biggles moved forward until he could see into the room. Two men were there, seated at a table with a bottle between them. One was Bogat and the other Chorro.

Biggles's first feeling was one of surprise; the second, disappointment; the third, mystification. Where was the Tiger? Bogat was still wearing his hat, as if he had only just arrived. Could Dusky have made a mistake?

While Biggles was still pondering the question Bogat spoke, and his first words explained the situation.

'No, the king is busy up top,' he said. 'When he heard that you'd arrived he sent me down instead to hear what you have to say. If you'd rather see him, or if it's something important, I'll take you up top.'

Biggles understood. In the darkness Dusky had been mistaken. The man he had seen come down the steps was not the Tiger, but Bogat. Chorro had arrived from the coast, and the Tiger had sent Bogat down to get in touch with him.

Biggles was annoyed, for had he known the truth he would not have come down; but now that he was here, with the two men practically at his mercy, he felt that it would be a pity not to take advantage of the situation. He could not very well blame Dusky for the mistake; the old man had acted for the best. Still, the new state of affairs called for an adjustment of plan.

Biggles withdrew a little into the darkness to think the matter over. It would, he thought, be an easy matter to capture the Tiger's two right-hand men, but what was he to do with them? It did not take him long to see that there was only one thing he could do with them, and that was take them to the coast. This would mean leaving the others for longer than he originally intended. Still, if he went back up the steps and rejoined them now it was not easy to see what he could do single-handed. On the other hand, if he went to the coast and explained matters to Carruthers, the acting-Governor might lend him some extra men. He should be able to get back some time the next day. If Algy and the others remained where they were they should be safe.

So Biggles reasoned as he stood in the shadow of the palace, confronted, for the third time within a few hours, with a decision not easy to make. Successive unexpected events had made his original plan a thing of the past. However., he felt that by securing Bogat and Chorro and taking them to the coast he would have achieved the first step forward in his declared intention of breaking up the Tiger's gang.

With the rifle in the crook of his arm ready for instant use, Biggles strolled into the room.

'Good evening, gentlemen,' he said evenly. 'Keep quite still. It should hardly be necessary for me to warn you that ifeither of you make a sound I shall have to employ your own methods to discourage you. Keep your hands on the table.'

The two men stared. Neither moved. Neither spoke. In the first place, at least, their obedience was probably due to shock. While they were still staring Biggles walked behind each in turn and removed his weapons.

'Now,' he continued, 'we're going for a walk. On your feet. Keep going. I shall be close behind you.'

When they reached the spot where Dusky was waiting, Biggles gave him Bogat's rifle and ordered him to lead the way down to the forest, the first part of the journey to the Wanderer.

It was now bright moonlight, but so much had happened that Biggles had only a hazy idea of the time. He was anxious to reach the foot of the steps before dawn, because there was less chance of meeting anybody on the way.

As a matter of fact it was earlier than he thought, and he found it necessary to wait for some time at the bottom of the steps, for he dare not risk losing his two dangerous prisoners in the darkness of the forest, where, of course, the moonlight did not penetrate.

As soon as there was sufficient light to see he gave the order to continue the march, Dusky still leading the way and he himself bringing up the rear. So far the two prisoners had been pa.s.sive, but Biggles felt certain that Bogat, at least, would make an attempt to escape. Once he got off the trail into the forest he would be safe from pursuit, and Biggles repeated his warning as to what would happen if either prisoner attempted it. They trudged on in silence. It was broad daylight by the time they reached the river.

Now all this time Biggles had the advantage of knowing where they were going, whereas the prisoners did not. They hoped, no doubt, that camp would presently be made, in which case an opportunity for making a dash into the jungle might present itself. But as soon as the aircraft came into view for in spite of Biggles's rough camouflage, it could be seen from a little distance-the manner of both prisoners changed. They must have realised that unless they did something quickly their minutes of opportunity were numbered. Once in the machine, and in the air, there could be no escape.

Not for an instant did Biggles relax his vigilance, for he knew that this was the crucial moment. He was in fact ready for almost anything; yet in spite of that he was not ready for what did happen.

When they were only a score of paces from the machine Dusky suddenly pulled up dead.

For a moment or two he stood rigid, leaning slightly forward, his big nostrils twitching like a dog that catches the scent of its quarry. Then he turned his head slowly and looked at Biggles. His eyes were round with fear.

Even when he moved his lips, and opened them to speak, Biggles still had no idea of what the old man was going to say; but he sensed danger, and his muscles tightened as instinctively he braced himself. And as they all stood there, motionless, like a screen picture suddenly arrested in motion, the silence was broken by a curious sound, a sort of sharp phut.

Bogat started convulsively. Very slowly, as if it dreaded what it might find, his hand crept up to a face that had turned ashen, to where a tiny dart, not much larger than a darning needle, protruded. As his fingers touched it a wild scream burst from his lips, and he staggered back against a tree.

Chorro took one terrified look at him, and with the whimpering cry of a wounded dog, regardless of Biggles's order to stop, rushed into the forest.

Biggles raised his rifle, but he did not shoot. There was no need. For hardly had Chorro left the trail when there was a fierce cras.h.i.+ng in the undergrowth, a cras.h.i.+ng above which rose shrieks of terror. They ended abruptly.

Now all this had happened in less time than it takes to tell. Biggles knew, without Dusky'

s hoa.r.s.e advice, that they had been ambushed by Indians, probably the same tribe that Bogat had so mercilessly attacked. He could do nothing for his prisoners. Chorro had disappeared, and it was not hard to guess his fate. Bogat was now on the ground, writhing and twisting in convulsions as the venom on the dart took effect.

Dusky panicked--which was hardly surprising. He fled back along the trail. Biggles followed, now concerned only with escape. He wondered vaguely whether it would be better to go back to the steps, or to try to reach the aircraft, although how this was to be done was not apparent. As he ran, wild shouts behind sent the parrots squawking into the air.