"That came from the bamboo belt, or from somewhere close to it," said Ginger.
Biggles looked at Mishu. "Was that a cow?"
"Yes, bwana. It was a cow calling her calf."
"A domestic cow, I mean, not a buffalo?"
"It was a tame cow, bwana."
"Is there a native village anywhere in that direction?"
"No, bwana. It is fly country."
Biggles knew that he meant that the district was afflicted with the tsetse fly, the carrier of sleeping sickness. He hesitated. "If there are no natives, what are cattle doing there? You needn't tell me the answer.
It must be the Elephant, getting his herd on the move to keep his appointment with Bronnou."
"He'll be here before morning, old boy," said Bertie. "What's he going to think when he finds his dirty partner isn't here?"
"The question is what will he do?" returned Biggles thoughtfully.
"What else can he do but carry on?" put in Ginger. "He won't want to hang about here with a mob of cattle."
"He certainly will not, if those two natives who got away make contact with him and tell him that Bronnou has been arrested" muttered Biggles.
'That news, if he gets it, should put him in flap. Even so, the only thing he can do is push on unless, of course, he decides to abandon the cattle. I can't see that happening, though, unless he's really hard pressed. Those beasts represent the accumulated profits of months of work."
Again the distant bellow rolled across the lonely landscape. Two or three others joined in.
"That's the cattle all right," asserted Biggles. "They’re on the move.
This may be the chance we've been waiting for. I mean, when he breaks clear of the bamboos."
"He won't stop here in the open," said Ginger.
"No. He isn't likely to do that," agreed Biggles. "His whole policy is one of keeping in cover during daylight. The next cover on his route is that elephant grass. That, I'd say, is where he'll spend tomorrow. We know from Mishu that he's used the place before."
"Look here, old boy!" cut in Bertie. "If you take the machine off he'll hear it. If we can hear his cows he'll hear us—if you see what I mean."
"Yes, I see what you mean," answered Biggles slowly. "On the other hand we can't leave it where it is without a risk of him seeing it. He'll have scouts out, you may be sure. If it comes to that, what if he does hear the machine take off? What can he do about it? Nothing. He may be relieved, thinking we've gone away. It's better that he should think that. Anyhow, whether or not he learns what has happened here, being so near the frontier he'll be anxious to push on. But we’re doing rather a lot of guessing. We may be barking up the wrong tree. One cow doesn't make a herd. The thing is, before we commit ourselves to anything definite, to make sure that we're on the right track.''
"It’s no use flying over the bamboos," said Ginger. "You won't see anything."
"I wasn't even contemplating it" replied Biggles, "The only way to find out what we want to know is for some one to stay here and watch."
Mishu stepped forward and said he was willing to stay. "Someone ought to stay with him," said Biggles. "I'll stay," offered Ginger and Bertie together.
"All right," agreed Biggles. "You can both stay. I shan't need you. You can take it in turns to get some sleep. I'll fly the machine back. I want to speak to Haynes, anyway, before he goes. It may be a good thing to have him around for a little while. Keep well back and watch in the direction of the bamboos. If the cattle appear, mark where they go. Be careful! You won't be able to light a fire, of course—but you shouldn't need one. As soon as you've got the gen start walking towards Latonga until you come to a place where I can get down. I'll be along soon after dawn."
"Fair enough," confirmed Ginger.
"Right. That seems, to be all. I'll get along." said Biggles, climbing into his seat. The engine came to life, but Biggles did not take off immediately. Opening the throttle only wide enough to cause the machine to move forward, he taxied cautiously towards where the darkening sky was now merging into the purple shadows of the distant scene.
Ginger turned away, "We'd better find somewhere to park ourselves while there's enough light for us to see what we're doing."
After exploring for some time they decided on a mound covered with rough herbage, which, standing a little way back from the stream, gave a good view of the few miles of open ground that lay between the bamboo swamp and the elephant grass. They all agreed that it was the ideal spot.
Before very long they were to wish they had chosen somewhere else.
CHAPTER 12 THE GREAT STAMPEDE
As the last pink afterglow of the dying day faded into the sombre hues of dusk, somewhere far out on the lonely plain a lion roared, an impressive accompaniment that somehow seemed to be in keeping with the scene.
Indeed, so commonplace had this sound become that no one commented on it, all ears being strained to catch the first indication that the cattle were getting nearer. But when presently, the lion roared again, and was answered by another. Mishu turned his head in the direction from which it came and stared steadfastly into the deepening darkness.
Again a lion sent its awful challenge into the night, and the thought occurred to Ginger that the cattle would not like it. In a low voice he made a remark to that effect.
Mishu agreed. He said he thought the lions might be hanging about on the outskirts of the herd, hoping to find a straggler. He added the comforting information that lions do not roar when stalking their prey.
More often they roared after they had eaten and were on their way to water.
Ginger looked at the pale, meandering line, that still marked the position of the stream just below them; but he said no more.
Shortly afterwards two lions roared in unison, somewhat nearer, again to be answered by another. Ginger moved uncomfortably and put his rifle across his knees. He would have admitted frankly, hungry or not, he preferred lions at a distances. Mishu made a sign to keep quiet.
Roaring at intervals, he beasts drew nearer. Mishu whispered that he thought they were coming to the stream to drink He did not think there was any cause for alarm. If the lions were hungry, he repeated, they would not roar. Ginger found small solace in this, as the moon had not yet risen, and the sensation of sitting in the pitch dark, with lions near at hand, was anything but pleasant. He suggested tentatively that if the lions got any nearer they ought to light a fire; but Bertie wouldn't hear of it, pointing out that a fire would certainly defeat the very object for which they were there. Ginger replied grimly that if they were devoured by lions, that would defeat their object with even greater certainty.
He grimaced as a lion, quite close, drew in its breath audibly before shattering the silence with its dreadful voice. Soon afterwards a swishing in the grass made it evident that a troop of lions was passing close on its way to water. Raising his head slightly Ginger could just see the animals in single file, against the skyline. Mishu put his hand to his lips for silence, and a little while later the lapping of the lions could be heard, just below them, as they quenched their thirst.
There was an. interval of some minutes, and Ginger was just beginning to hope that the beasts had gone away, when, after the usual indrawn breath that sounded like a yawn, one of them roared. Another joined in and another until they were all roaring together emitting such a volume: of sound that the ground seemed to tremble and the air vibrate. Nothing that Ginger could have imagined would have been anything like it. They all sat perfectly still, Mishu with his head bent forward, hands over his ears.
The mighty chorus ended in a series of throaty grunts. There was an uneasy silence for a little while, then the whole thing started all over.
Towards the end, to Ginger's unspeakable relief, the uproar withdrew somewhat, suggesting that the lions were now going on their way. From time to time they continued to roar, the sound getting more distant until it stopped altogether.
Ginger, who, unconsciously, had been sitting rigid, rel
axed.
"Phew!" he breathed. "That wasn't funny. Did you ever hear such an infernal din."
"Worth hearing, all the same, old boy," declared Bertie. "Wouldn't have missed it for anything. Jolly old fellows at a party, aren't they? I've heard people make sillier noises when they've been drinking—yes, by Jove."
Ginger agreed that the sound was majestic; but he wouldn't care if he never heard it again. He wondered if the roaring would affect the Elephant's plans. It seemed unlikely that he would try to move the cattle with such a frightful noise going on.
In this belief he may have been right, for two long hours elapsed before any other sound was heard. Then, when one did come, it sent them shrinking low in the grass, Human voices spoke, and they were not far off. What was said Ginger did not know. If Mishu knew, he did not open his lips. The sound was not repeated. Presently the moon came up to flood the plain, with radiance, and a little later there was a shout in the distance.
It was followed by others. A cow bellowed. Others did the same:
"This sounds like what we've been waiting for," murmured Bertie.
They did not move from their position. By raising himself up a little, Ginger found that he could see the outer edge of the distant bamboos; but the light was deceptive, and for a long while he saw no movement. Mishu said he could make out a big herd of cattle moving slowly towards them, with men on the outside keeping it compact. He must have been right, for presently, sounds, the usual sounds of men and cattle on the move, became audible. They drew nearer, until, after rather more than an hour, the herd, numbering some hundreds of beasts, grazing as it advanced, was opposite, not more than four hundred yards way. It was a long time passing. Eventually it faded into the mysterious distance, in the direction of the elephant grass.
Mishu said he would follow, to see hove far the herd was taken before it was again hidden for the hours of daylight. It would be better if the others remained where
they were. Their white faces might be seen in the moonlight by sharp-eyed natives. He would return when he had the information he concluded, and glided away into the night.
Bertie told Ginger that he might, as well try to snatch some sleep. He would keep watch, and wake him if anything happened. He himself was not in the least tired.
Ginger needed no second invitation, for now that there was no immediate cause for anxiety he was suddenly drowsy. Stretching himself out on grass that was still warm after the heat of the day, he was soon asleep.
He was awakened, stiff with the chill of the small hours, by the return of Mishu., with the information that the herd was now grazing near the far end of the elephant grass; and as it was nearly dawn it seemed-certain that Cetezulu intended to make the sixteen-foot high grass his next stopping place.
"In. that case, we might as well make a move," suggested Ginger, "That is if Mishu thinks it's safe."
Mishu said he thought all the Black Elephant's men were with the herd, so it would be quite safe for them to go.
"Did you actually see Cetezulu?" asked Ginger.
Mishu answered no, but from the number of men now with the herd he felt sure that the Elephant and all his followers had caught up with the stolen animals, and all were now moving together towards the frontier.
"All right" said Ginger. "Then let's get clear of this place and find somewhere for Biggles to land. We shall have to go some way to make sure that the Elephant doesn't hear the machine."
"Yes, it's time we got cracking," agreed Bertie. Biggles said he'd be along about dawnish."
They set out, moving as fast as was compatible with caution; and had covered about two miles before a pallid flush in the sky announced that daylight was at hand. They pushed on, moving faster now until, finding an area free from obstructions; they sat down to wait.
They heard the machine coming soon afterwards, and a handful of dry grass made enough smoke to bring Biggles, in the Proctor; to the spot. The machine landed, and Biggles, who was flying solo, stepped down.
"Everything all right?" queried Ginger.
"Yes. Algy's waiting at Latonga. Had I brought him with me, I couldn't have got you all in. What's the
news?"
"The herd went across the open in the dark, as you expected, and is now in the elephant grass," Ginger told him.
"Did you see Cetezulu?"
"No, but Mishu feels sure that the whole gang has now joined up with all the cattle. We saw the herd go past quite close to us. It's a really big mob. Mishu followed it to the high grass."
"That's capital," declared Biggles. "This is what we've been waiting for."
"What will you do?" .
"Winkle him out, of course."
"How are you going to do that?" asked Ginger dubiously.
Biggles smiled. "One thing at a time. Get aboard. I want to stop Haynes moving off. He's anxious to push on home with his prisoners, but he promised to wait till I got back to see if I needed his help."
They all got into the machine, and in a few minutes were at the Latonga rest-house. Haynes and Algy were standing there, waiting. There were also, to Ginger's satisfaction, some breakfast.
"Well, what's the latest?" asked Haynes.
"Cetezulu has done what I thought he'd do," answered Biggles. "I couldn't see how he could do anything else. He's got the herd bedded down for the day in that big patch of' elephant grass not far from the spot where you picked up. Bronnou. This is the first real chance we've had of getting on terms with him, and we may never get another. If he makes a dash for that jungle country near the frontier, and gets into it, we've had it. He knows we daren't follow him there."
"True enough," agreed Haynes. "What can I do for you?"
"You can lend me as many of your men as you can spare," replied Biggles.
"Cetezulu has a gang of at least thirty men with him and that's a biggish handful for my small party. If I wait for police reinforcements the Elephant may slip away before they get here. Your fellows have rifles, and authority to use them. If you'll post them at strategic points round the grass we shall have the Elephant where we want him. The gang can either surrender or fight it out. If they decide to fight, the responsibility will be theirs if there is bloodshed."
"How are these chaps armed?" asked Haynes.
"Mostly with spears. A few have rifles which were no doubt taken from the people they murdered. But they're only a mob of ruffians, and wouldn't have a chance against disciplined troops like yours."
"I'm your man;" assented Haynes. "A sergeant and a couple of men can take care of the prisoners until we get back. That means I can bring ten men along."
"That should be plenty."
"What's the drill? I don't like the idea of sending my fellows into thick cover."
"I wasn't thinking of anything like it."
"What are you going to do, then?" enquired Haynes. "Are you going to try to drive them out by shooting up the grass?"
"No. That might only result in wasting a lot of ammunition. Besides, I don't like the idea of plastering a lot of helpless cattle—that's what would happen. I've a better scheme than that. It ought to work." Biggles took Haynes on one side, and using the bonnet of one of the trucks as a rest, made a quick sketch on a page torn from his notebook. He spoke earnestly while he was doing it. A slow smile spread over the officer's face as he listened. When Biggles had finished Haynes simply said okay, and turning away, began making his arrangements.
Biggles returned to the others. "I'm hoping to push the Elephant out of his lair without firing a shot," he announced. "It may not come off, but I fancy it will. Any how, we'll give it a chance before resorting to more direct methods. If it works it should save casualties—on our side, anyway."
"How about telling us what you're going to do?" asked Ginger impatiently.
"I'm just coming to that," answered Biggles, smiling faintly. "There's no hurry. The Elephant won't be likely to move in broad daylight. I'm giving Haynes a couple of hours to get his men into position."
"Then what?"
Biggles's smile broadened. "We’ll see how several hundred head of cattle behave when two Merlin engines start howling just over their heads. I don't think they'll like that."
Enlightenment dawned in Ginger's eyes. "You mean you're going to stampede them?"
"That's the idea. With the herd galloping up and down that elephant grass will be no place to lie down and go to sleep. Actually, I'm hoping to save the cattle. They can
be rounded up afterwards. Cetezulu’s men can also be rounded up when they come out of the grass in small numbers, as I think they will. Those who prefer it can stay inside and be trampled into the mud by the cows. They can please themselves about that. I'll fly the Mosquito with you, Ginger.
Algy, you and Bertie can follow me in the Proctor. Between us we should be able to make a fair amount of noise."
"Here, I say, this is going to be something!" declared Bertie enthusiastically. "Swipe the blighter with his own swag, so to speak.
Brilliant, old boy, absolutely brilliant!" Biggles grinned. "Let's have a cup of tea while we're waiting."
"What about Mishu?" asked Ginger. "Take a look at him."
Mishu was squatting on the running board of one of the trucks, thoughtfully sharpening the point of his spear with a piece of stone.
"He'll have to be in the party," said Biggles. "We can't very well leave him behind. He doesn't like flying, so he'd better go in the truck with Haynes."
"From his expression," put in Algy "he's hoping to push that spear into somebody before the day is out."
"I couldn't care less," answered Biggles. "He's got an old score to wipe out, don't forget. His is a personal grudge. Ours isn't. Ginger, tell him to go in the truck with the Askaris."
Ginger complied. Presently when the truck moved off, among the bristling rifles and dark, grinning faces, there was a solitary spear. The face of the owner of it was expressionless.
After that, with nothing more to do, they sat around over a dish of tea and discussed the project until the time allotted to Haynes had expired.
Then they went to their respective machines and took off.
44 Biggles and the Black Raider Page 12
