by W E Johns
“Not particularly. If the human race isn’t capable of saving itself it will disappear like the great lizards that once dominated the earth. Nothing you could do will save it. Certainly not here. You may or may not have realized it but you’ve chosen to conduct your experiment on a volcano which may appear to be dead, but is, I suspect, very much alive. You may not mind that, but you can’t force other people to share the risk.”
Hara’s face remained expressionless. “I have set myself a task and I shall proceed with it.”
“You will not be allowed to do anything of the sort.”
“Who’ll stop me?”
“I shall. Or failing that, a force sent for the purpose.”
“Do you know what I am doing?”
“Yes. I asked you as a matter of courtesy.”
“How do you know?”
“I was given the information by one of your dupes.”
“What objection can the British government have to my living here?”
“Oh, really Dr. Hara, that’s a ridiculous question and you know it. Other governments are involved. In the first place you brought people here by misrepresentation. You are keeping them here by force. You have seized a ship that doesn’t belong to you, and you have introduced a pack of dogs that are a menace to anyone landing here. These animals have already been responsible for at least one death, to my certain knowledge. If you seriously believe that this sort of thing can be allowed to go on you must have a poor opinion of European administration.”
“I have.”
“In that case you will soon be disillusioned.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“At this juncture I’m prepared to offer you terms which in the circumstances are more reasonable than you deserve. First, these dogs will have to be destroyed. Secondly, all the people who wish to leave the island must be allowed to do so. You, and those who wish to stay here, may do so pending a decision by my government on your further occupation.”
“And if I refuse?”
“I shall return home and make my report, holding you responsible for anything that may happen here between now and the time you are ejected by force.”
“What makes you think you will be allowed to leave the island?”
“Whether I leave it or not will make no difference. If I fail to return home other people will soon be here to find out why. I’m trying to be reasonable in the hope of saving trouble for everyone. Neither threats nor force will help you.”
“We shall see about that.”
Biggles shrugged. “Very well. Have it your way, but I warn you that your persistence in this crazy scheme will only make matters worse. Whatever you do, as far as this island is concerned your experiment is finished.”
The muscles of Hara’s face tightened. “Nothing is going to stand in the way of what I have set out to do.”
Biggles shook his head sadly. “Dr. Hara, I came to you direct because I always try the easy way first—I mean the easiest way for everyone. I trusted that you would be amenable to reason. Apparently I was wrong. I’m not looking for more trouble than is unavoidable, but if you want it the other way, that’s how it will have to be. Do as I tell you and I will undertake to leave you here until your case can be dealt with by the proper authority in London.”
Hara’s expression hardened. “You must be mad to think you can dictate terms to me.”
“I shall think you’re mad if you decline them.”
“So that’s it! You think I’m mad?”
“I’ll keep an open mind about that until I see how you behave.”
“Have you finished?”
“I have said all I have to say.”
That did it. Hara, who must have been holding himself in hand, now lost control of himself and revealed himself to be the unbalanced fanatic Biggles had suspected. Leaping to his feet he broke into a torrent of abuse. He cursed Biggles for an interfering Britisher. He cursed the British government, and other governments in turn, including, somewhat surprisingly, his own.
“I’ll tame you,” he shouted. “I’ll show you who’s master here. Take them away! Take them away! Lock them up! Put a guard on them and shoot them if they give trouble. Those are my orders. Presently I’ll decide what is to be done with them. Get them out of my sight.”
Hands were laid on Biggles and Marcel from behind, and on being turned they saw that during the conversation the room had quietly filled with guards, white, black and brown. Marcel looked at Biggles with an expression that seemed to ask if he were prepared to submit to this treatment. Biggles merely shrugged, making it clear that at this juncture he was unwilling to resort to defensive measures which could only result in bloodshed and would probably end by them both being killed on the spot.
So they allowed themselves to be disarmed and led away to a nearby building which turned out to be a single room, and from its character was obviously intended for the confinement of unruly prisoners. The floor was bare earth. There was no furniture of any sort. A single barred window, unglazed, high up in the wall, let in some light. A door, a small, heavy affair that had once been a ship’s bulkhead, was slammed and locked.
“Tiens! So we come unstuck,” observed Marcel, philosophically.
“I had to take the chance to find out what I wanted to know.”
“Comment?”
“This fellow Hara is as mad as a hatter.”
“But we knew that already, old cabbage.”
“We had only Axel’s word for it. In court, hearsay evidence is regarded with suspicion. I wanted to see the man and judge for myself. You can’t talk sense to a man who has a bug in his brain. The trouble is, Hara believes in what he’s doing—or he’s an astute liar.”
“And this is where we land ourselves.”
“I can’t say I’m surprised. But the alternative to what I did, as I pointed out, was to go home with the job half done. To try to take the place by force and release the prisoners was not a practicable proposition. At home we should have been accused of starting a war. When Hara has had time to ponder the situation he may think better of the action he has taken. If he has any sanity left he’ll realize that I told the truth when I said no matter what he does to us the lunatic game he’s been playing here is finished. Those helping him must know that. Hara must have a powerful personality to keep them under his thumb.”
“He’s a man to fear.”
“Definitely, although as a matter of fact I’m more afraid of the island itself than I am of him.”
“The island?”
“Oratovoa is boiling up for another eruption.”
“Zut alors! You really think that?”
“I’m so certain of it that I shall be glad to get off it. When I was talking to Hara I distinctly felt a tremor under my feet. Hara must have felt it, too, and from the fact that he ignored it I can only conclude that here it’s such a common occurrence that no one pays any attention. It’s not unusual for an apparently extinct volcano to blow its lid off. It may, or may not, give a few warning bumps. Apart from Krakatoa, which I’ve already mentioned, two thousand years ago people were living in the crater of Vesuvius when it suddenly coughed its innards out. The same with Mont Pelée, on your island of Martinique in the West Indies, not so long ago. If an island of that size could wipe out nearly thirty thousand people in one bang, this thing we’re standing on, when the mood comes on it, would make short work of everyone here. It might not happen for a long time, but it could happen tomorrow.”
“A charming thought to go to bed with,” said Marcel, pithily. “What are we going to do?”
“That’s an easy question to answer,” replied Biggles. “Nothing. Or put it this way. All we can do is wait to see what Hara intends to do. In the meantime, Ginger may decide to do something. He’ll have to be smart about it.”
“You’re thinking of the plane?”
“Of course. Hara must know how we reached the island. No doubt he saw the aircraft when we flew over the crater. He’ll gues
s it’s still here, and there aren’t many places where it could be. Unless he’s a complete fool, and however crazy he may be I’m sure he isn’t that, his next step will be to find it to prevent it from leaving.”
“Algy and Bertie will see that doesn’t happen,” declared Marcel, confidently.
“I hope you’re right,” said Biggles.
CHAPTER X
UP TO GINGER
GINGER and Axel had found a more or less comfortable position just under the brow of the hill, so that they had only to raise themselves up to command a view of the open ground between them and the lip of the crater over which they had watched Biggles and Marcel disappear. There, in accordance with instructions, they settled down to wait.
For some time they were entertained by the stupendous view before them, and more than once Ginger remarked: “It isn’t true.” In fact, it was like nothing he had ever seen before. To the left a hideous black precipice fell sheer into the sea. For some reason—a reason later to be revealed—it was avoided by the clouds of seabirds. Sometimes they approached it, but, Ginger noticed, they never settled on it. Always at the last moment they wheeled away in a chorus of discordant cries.
On the right, ridged and split by ravines, the ground fell away at a steep angle into the forest belt far below. This was the slope up which they had travelled to the top of the mountain, although, looking down on it, Ginger found it hard to believe they had actually done what appeared to be impossible. The thought of the descent, should they be forced to return that way, filled him with something like dismay, although to be sure, Sven was already on his way down. He had accepted the task without demur although he must have been aware of the risks involved. Even a twisted ankle on that treacherous slope, and that might easily happen, would be a serious matter. Ginger watched the open areas thinking he might see him, although in such a chaos of boulders, crags and pinnacles of rock, he hardly expected to do so. Nor, in fact, did he.
Immediately in front of them was the ravine into which Swenson had fallen, the bottom hidden under a tangle of tropical vegetation. Beyond it and below ran the green belt of jungle through which, unseen, ran what had become known as the dog track. Still farther on and below, perhaps a mile away in a straight line, lay the ocean, its deep blue surface unbroken by a mark of any sort to catch the eye. Only the seaward end of the inlet could be seen, a narrow ribbon of water that disappeared behind the tops of the intervening forest trees. It was not possible, therefore, to see the aircraft, and after considering the matter for some time Ginger suggested to Axel that it might be a good thing to move their position to one which gave a better view of the inlet.
“If we can see the machine we should be able to see Sven arrive,” he said. “It would be something to know he had got down all right. We should also know if Algy had to move.”
“Do you think he may have to move?”
“I don’t know. But when Hara realizes how vital the aircraft is to Biggles he may try to damage it to prevent him from leaving.”
They moved a little way along the slope and presently found what they sought, a vantage point that overlooked the inner end of the anchorage, and, of course, the aircraft. To Ginger’s satisfaction it was still in the same place.
All this time their greatest enemy was the sun. It struck down with rays of blistering heat which the porous rock absorbed and flung up again. Nothing could be done about it although from time to time they sought relief by crawling into any small patches of shade cast by boulders, and on one occasion by a long-dead fallen tree; but the respite was brief, for as the sun, now past its zenith, fell towards the sea, it found them again. Ginger, trying to forget the discomfort, occupied himself with whittling a heavy cudgel, thinking it might be useful against the dogs should they come into conflict with them.
The afternoon wore on to evening. They saw nothing of Sven. Nor did they see any movement on the flying-boat, from which Ginger could only suppose that Algy and Bertie had sought refuge from the intense heat inside the cabin.
At his invitation Axel told in more detail of events on the island since his arrival, and he was still so engaged when there occurred an incident which, not dangerous in itself, caused them to stare at each other before scrambling to their feet. The ground on which they were reclining quivered, as if it had been struck a blow with a great hammer. At the same time there came, from below them it seemed, a deep rumbling noise. The tremor lasted for three or four seconds. That this was not imagination was proved when several small pieces of the black cliff broke off and went crashing down into the void. Everywhere on the lower slopes the gulls left their perches and wheeled, screaming.
“My gosh!” cried Ginger, his face blanching.
“It’s an earthquake.” He looked around desperately, and, as he quickly realized, foolishly, for a way of escape.
“That has happened three or four times since I came here,” stated Axel, calmly.
“The sooner I’m off this lump of jelly the happier I’ll be,” declared Ginger, dry-lipped. “It’s terrifying. Now I know Hara is mad. No man in his right mind would stay here. No wonder the gulls don’t sit on that cliff. It’s falling apart. I heard stuff falling on the other side, too. The whole place is falling to pieces. I hope to goodness Biggles isn’t going to be long. And what about Sven, amongst all those rocks. Look! Algy and Bertie must have felt something, or heard something. They’ve come out to see what it was.”
Two microscopic figures had appeared on the hull, staring up at the mountain. They stood there for a minute or two and then retired again into the cabin.
“You know, Axel, this puts a different complexion on this whole daft business,” asserted Ginger, seriously. “I hope Biggles will realize it. This sitting on a million ton bomb that might explode at any moment isn’t funny.”
“In the crater they may not have felt that tremor,” said Axel. “The shocks seem to be local. Sometimes it’s one side of the mountain, sometimes the other.”
“What a horror,” muttered Ginger. “For the rest of the time I’m here I shall be waiting for it to happen again.”
“Hara says there’s nothing to worry about.”
“Then as I said before, he must be nuts.”
“He says this has probably been going on for hundreds of years and it may go on for hundreds more.”
“I only hope he’s right,” said Ginger, shortly.
They resumed their seats, uneasily, fearing a repetition of the occurrence. However, this did not happen; but as the sun went down they took more frequent peeps over the ridge behind them to see if there was any sign of Biggles and Marcel.
Sundown brought a new discomfort in the shape of a sharp downpour of rain that soaked them to the skin. It was cold rain, too, and the shock of it after the heat set their teeth chattering.
“This happens regularly, nearly every evening,” said Axel. “Tomorrow will be another day like today.”
“What a place,” muttered Ginger, disgustedly. “What on earth can Biggles be doing?”
Axel did not answer.
Anxiety mounted as the sun sank into the empty ocean and darkness dropped from the sky to cover the island like a cloak. Biggles had allowed himself twenty-four hours, pondered Ginger, but, nevertheless, he could not help feeling that had his interview with Hara passed off smoothly he would have been back by now.
They passed an anxious, uncomfortable night, taking it in turns to keep watch for the return of Biggles and Marcel. Twice Ginger thought he felt a slight tremor pass through the ground on which he was lying, and this did nothing to ease his mind.
Dawn, in a blaze of colour, brought some slight relief, for as Ginger remarked in a disgruntled voice, they could at least see what they were doing, and the rocks had been given a chance to cool down.
They could not see the aircraft because, as on the previous day, and presumably every day at that hour, the lower slopes of the mountain were shrouded in drifts of grey, opaque mist. Later, when these were dispersed by the rising sun
they saw the machine at the same mooring, apparently unharmed; which, as Ginger remarked, was something to be thankful for. Occasionally a figure could be seen moving on the hull, and on one occasion Ginger saw two figures there together. They were too far off for recognition but he thought they were Algy and Bertie. What worried him was, he never saw three people there at the same time, as might have been expected had Sven got down safely. He did not mention his fears to Axel, who may have been thinking on the same lines.
They made a frugal breakfast from the remains of the food they had brought with them.
They continued to watch the ridge behind them, and the flying-boat, while the sun made its daily journey across the heavens, once more flaying the barren rocks with its merciless rays. The only incident to break the monotony of their vigil came just before noon, when shouts, whistles and animal noises in the ravine below indicated the presence of men and dogs.
“What do you think they’re doing?” asked Axel. “Are they on their way up here?”
“I doubt it. I’d say they’re either looking for Swenson or trying to find the track by which Biggles and Marcel reached the top. Hara will know by now they didn’t come up the regular track. He can’t know anything about us. I may as well be frank, Axel,” went on Ginger. “I’m getting alarmed. I feel sure that had Biggles been free to do so he’d have been back here by now. I can’t think of any reason why he should stay, willingly, as long as this. Having made contact with this cock-eyed King he could have said in five minutes all there was to say. The time limit he gave us is nearly up, anyway.”
“You think Hara may have made him prisoner?”
“I’m afraid that’s what has happened.”
“Suppose he and Marcel do not come back. What will you do?”
“I don’t know,” answered Ginger, slowly. “Biggles said in that event we should have to use our initiative. That’s all very well, but it means a big decision. As I see it there are three things we can do. We can stay as we are, allowing Biggles some extra time. If he doesn’t come that would simply leave us where we were and force us to take one of the alternatives. We can follow Sven down to the aircraft and leave Algy to decide whether to remain here or make for Australia. Or we can go on into the crater and find out what has happened there. If I do that I wouldn’t advise you to come with me. No doubt you’ve already been posted as a deserter, in which case, if you were caught, you’d get it in the neck.”
