Biggles and the Plot That Failed

by W E Johns

  Determined not to take his eyes off the open space to which the missing members of the caravan must eventually return, in the end he had to. For more than an hour he bore the scorching rays of the sun: but they became intolerable and he had to admit defeat. He took a last look. The Tuareg still stood there, unmoving, silent. They might have been graven images carved from the dark rock behind them. The camels did not move except to raise their heads and sigh, and moan, and cry, as if they carried the weight of the world’s troubles on their long-suffering shoulders: but this is the way of camels when they are distressed — as more often than not, they are.

  Adrian dropped back to below the ridge and so made his way to level ground. He had said the sun had no effect on him and he believed this to be true; but he now discovered that it is one thing to keep on the move under the sun, but a different matter to lie still on a rock exposed to the full force of its rays. For a minute he thought he had stayed too long. He felt giddy. The rocks around him began to spin. Gasping, he took a drink from his bottle and splashed a little water on his face. Feeling only a little better for this, for the water was tepid, he asked himself the question, what next? Still determined not to leave without the information he needed, he resolved to move nearer to the camels, and if he could find a spot of shade, which might now be possible as the sun was well down in the west, he would wait in it, trusting to his ears to tell him when the absent men returned. All he really wanted to know was if Sekunder was among them.

  Feeling better for his drink, he forthwith put into action the plan which, in view of the rock formations all around him, appeared to offer no difficulty. Nor did it, although as he could no longer see the clearing, he had to judge its position as well as he could.

  He was presently to realize that he had made a fundamental error in supposing that the missing members of the caravan had left the clearing on the far side; that is to say, they were somewhere beyond the camels. This was a natural assumption, because had they been on the near side he would have seen or heard them. Or so he thought. With them farther away than the camels, as he supposed, he had nothing to fear. He would be bound to see or hear them before he himself was seen. In the event, as he was now to learn, this was a mistake, one which was to throw his scheme out of gear.

  The first he knew about it was when, making his way silently along a steep face of rock, suddenly, from near at hand, there came a sound; an exclamation. He spun round, and there, not ten yards away, stood Sekunder with two other men. For half a minute they just stood there, staring at each other. It would be futile to speculate on who was most surprised; possibly Sekunder, from the way his eyes saucered, for he could have entertained no doubts as to the fate of the partner he had so traitorously abandoned.

  Adrian paid little attention to the other two men, but as his eyes flashed over them he saw one was a Tuareg and the other a man with a skin so light in colour that he might have been a European.

  Now, had Adrian not been seen by Sekunder, he would probably have acted in accordance with the promise he had made to Biggles to keep out of trouble; but with Sekunder standing there staring at him, the decision was not in his hands.

  After the shock of the meeting, unexpected on both sides, had worn off, Sekunder was the first to speak; and at first the conversation that followed was as natural as one could imagine in the circumstances, particularly as Adrian had by this time decided to take the line of least resistance in the hope of avoiding a show-down on the spot. In short, he behaved as he had told Biggles he would, acting as if he anticipated Sekunder’s return.

  In a voice pitched high with incredulity Sekunder said: ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ A foolish question, perhaps, but understandable.

  Adrian answered, as casually as his shaken nerves would allow: ‘Waiting for you to come back, of course.’

  This reply seemed to astonish Sekunder. ‘You mean — you thought — you knew I’d come back?’

  ‘I didn’t imagine you’d just gone off and left me here for good. But I must say you’ve been a devil of a long time fetching the tools, or whatever it was you went off to get.’

  Having had an excuse put in his hands, Sekunder was not slow to grasp it. ‘That’s right,’ he answered quickly. ‘Seeing we hadn’t a hope of getting into the tomb with the tools we had brought with us, on the spur of the moment I decided to dash home and bring along something more likely to be effective. I reckoned to be back the same day, but unfortunately my pilotage wasn’t as good as I thought. I ran out of petrol, and trying to get down at the Fountain of the Sun Oasis, this side of Siwa, I wiped off my undercarriage.’

  ‘You mean my undercarriage,’ returned Adrian, coolly. He was finding it difficult to control his temper, for, of course, he knew Sekunder’s explanation was nothing but a string of lies.

  ‘All right, your undercarriage, if you want it that way,’ conceded Sekunder. ‘Naturally, I was worried about you.’

  ‘Naturally,’ repeated Adrian, sarcasm putting an edge on his voice.

  Sekunder appeared not to notice it. ‘Why are we standing here?’ he went on. ‘My camp is just round the corner.’

  As they walked to it Sekunder continued with his explanation. ‘Without a plane the only way I could get back to you was by camel, and that took time to arrange. In fact, I couldn’t have done it had it not been for my good friend here, Mr Nakish Bolzana, a keen archaeologist, who put up the money.’ He indicated the European type who so far had not opened his mouth.

  Adrian nodded acceptance of the introduction. He did not bother to ask for further particulars of Mr Bolzana. He wasn’t interested. On the principle of birds of a feather flying together he assumed he was as big a crook as Sekunder. The fact that he was working with him was as much as he needed to know. Besides, his brain was racing, preparing for the questions he knew would come; which meant that he would be faced with the difficult problem of saying one thing while thinking something else. At this stage, now having the information Biggles needed, his chief concern was to get back to the canyon as quickly as possible; but at the moment this presented difficulties.

  ‘Where have you just been?’ he asked Sekunder, really to gain time.

  ‘Looking for water. Our Tuareg friends knew of a well here, or they thought they did, which was why we brought them along. They said its position was marked by the leaning rock, but so far we haven’t been able to locate it.’

  ‘It’s gone.’

  ‘Gone! How? What happened?’

  ‘It fell. I actually saw it fall.’

  ‘Did it fall on the tomb?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘No wonder we couldn’t find it. Did it break open the tomb?’

  ‘It didn’t even crack it. The tomb is exactly the same as when you were here.’

  Sekunder took a deep breath that may have indicated relief. ‘You must have found the water,’ he said, looking hard at Adrian’s face.

  ‘Obviously, or I wouldn’t be here now.’

  ‘That was lucky. I left you enough food and water to go on with, but like I said, I didn’t expect to be away for so long. Where is this water?’

  ‘Are you short of water, then?’

  ‘We could do with more. It depends on how long it takes us to open the tomb.’

  Adrian pointed. ‘It’s in that direction, five or six miles from here, the other side of the tomb.’

  ‘What were you doing here, so far away from it?’ inquired Sekunder, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

  ‘I saw the camels coming in from the desert, so I hurried along to see what they were doing here. I hoped they would give me a chance to get home.’

  ‘Of course. I can understand that. You can show us the water presently.’ Sekunder went on, changing the subject: ‘By the way, coming here a plane passed over us. Have you seen anything of it?’

  Knowing this question would arise, Adrian was ready for it; and he had decided to tell the truth, as far as it was necessary, for the sake of his own security. That is to say
, it would complicate matters for Sekunder should he contemplate more treachery. ‘It came here,’ he announced calmly.

  Sekunder stared. ‘Here! Where is it now?’

  ‘It’s still here.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘By the well.’

  ‘Why is it staying here?’

  ‘It’s waiting for me.’

  Sekunder looked puzzled. He threw a quick glance at Bolzana. ‘Waiting for you! I don’t get it.’

  ‘It’s quite simple. The plane was looking for me.’

  ‘Looking for you?’ Sekunder stared as if he couldn’t believe his ears.

  Adrian, seeing his enemy disconcerted, pressed home his advantage. ‘You see, it was like this. I promised to write to my father every week while I was away. When he didn’t hear from me he chartered a plane to find out what had become of me. He knew where we were going. Well, the pilot found me. He wanted to take me straight home, but I wouldn’t go.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I decided to wait for you to come back.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Why not. After all, I’d invested a lot of money in this venture and was determined to see it through.’

  ‘You must have been sure I’d come back.’

  ‘To me, nothing was more certain. We’d found the tomb, hadn’t we? All that remained was to open it. I knew when you came you’d have the tools necessary to complete the job. I told Bigglesworth so.’

  ‘Who’s Bigglesworth?’

  ‘The pilot of the plane.’

  ‘Friend of yours?’

  ‘Never seen him before.’

  ‘And he’s still here, waiting for you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Sekunder looked at his new partner and said something in a language Adrian did not understand. Turning back to Adrian, he explained: ‘My friend doesn’t speak fluent English: I wanted to be sure he understood the position.’ He went on: ‘How long is this plane going to stay here?’

  ‘Until I’m ready to go.’

  ‘And when will that be?’

  ‘When I’ve seen the tomb opened.’

  ‘I see.’ From his expression, Sekunder received this information without enthusiasm.

  ‘Have you brought something which you think will open the tomb?’ asked Adrian.

  ‘I have.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Among other things, a drill operated by an oil engine.’

  Adrian now understood what was in the big parcel bound up in a dust-sheet. Apparently it had needed a spare camel to carry it. ‘Are you going to tackle the tomb now, this evening?’ he inquired.

  ‘It’s too late to do much today,’ answered Sekunder. Which was understandable, as the day was fast dying. ‘What we might do, if you’ll show us the tomb, is move along to it now and so be ready to tackle it in the morning before the sun gets high.’

  ‘All right,’ agreed Adrian. ‘That suits me.’ This was true, because it would take him nearer to his own camp. ‘When we arrive I’ll slip along and tell Bigglesworth you’re here and what you intend to do,’ he suggested, more in hope than confidence that he would be permitted to do this. He was not fooled by Sekunder’s almost cordial manner. He knew it could change in a flash if he made a false move.

  To his surprise Sekunder raised no objection. ‘Very well. Come over here a minute; I’ve got an idea.’ Taking Adrian by the arm, he led him to one side. ‘Listen,’ he said, in a confidential whisper, as if he was afraid of being overheard. ‘This plane. Could you fly it?’

  ‘I don’t see why not. It isn’t a jet, or anything tricky. Why?’ returned Adrian, wondering what was coming.

  ‘I was thinking,’ explained Sekunder, with a crafty smile. ‘It would save a lot of trouble, and a dangerous journey by camel, if we had that plane.’

  Adrian’s face went blank. ‘I don’t understand.’

  Sekunder dropped his voice still lower. ‘It’s too easy. As soon as we’ve taken out of the tomb anything worth having, we — that is, you and me — could fly home, leaving the others to follow on with the camels. See what I mean?’

  For a moment Adrian was speechless. He knew he was dealing with a crook, but that any man could stoop to such monstrous treachery took his breath away. It was a good indication of how Sekunder’s brain worked. What shook him as much as anything was that Sekunder should imagine he would fall in with such an infamous proposal. It put him within an ace of losing his temper. However, stifling his anger and still maintaining his conciliatory attitude, he simply said: ‘I’ll think about it.’

  ‘Do that,’ requested Sekunder. ‘It would make things a lot easier for both of us. Now let’s get along to the tomb.’

  ‘What about these Tuareg? Are they to be trusted?’

  ‘Don’t worry about them. They’ve worked for Bolzana before.’

  By this time the sun had gone and darkness settled over the scene. They returned to the camels to find the Tuareg standing close together engaged in earnest conversation. Bolzana was beside them. Their interest appeared to be in the sky. The camels were restless.

  ‘We’re going to move on to the tomb,’ said Sekunder. He looked from the Tuareg to Bolzana. ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘The men don’t like it.’

  ‘Don’t like what?’

  ‘The weather. They say there will come a storm.’

  There followed a short discussion in which the Tuareg joined, presumably speaking in their own language, since Adrian was unable to follow it. When it was finished, Sekunder turned back to Adrian and said: ‘They want to stay here. They say if the storm caught us on the move it could be serious.’

  ‘They probably know what they’re talking about,’ rejoined Adrian. ‘What are you going to do about it? It’s up to you. I’m in your hands.’ Actually, he was wondering if he dare risk making a dash for the canyon. The journey, he thought, in the dark, measured in time rather than distance, would take about two hours, A distant flicker of lightning, followed by an ominous rumble of thunder, decided him against such a plan, one which, if he was overtaken by the storm, might well cost him his life.

  Sekunder hesitated. Then, making up his mind he said: ‘We’ll move on. That storm is some distance off, yet. It may miss us. Time is valuable. Even if we don’t quite get to the tomb, we should get closer to it and be ready to tackle it in the morning.’ He gave an order and the Tuareg began loading the complaining camels.

  Adrian accepted the decision without comment. As far as he could see it was all the same to him. Sooner or later he would get a chance to slip away.

  There was another flicker of lightning, for a split second revealing the strange scene around him in an eerie light. Looking up in the direction from which the tempest was coming he saw an ugly black shape creeping up over the horizon, putting out the stars.

  CHAPTER 12

  NO FUN FOR GINGER

  When Ginger set out to look for Adrian he was less concerned with the storm than the possibility of putting a foot on a poisonous snake, as might easily happen in the dark. Not that he was unaware of what a desert sand-storm could mean. But it was not as if they were among the dunes. They had the hills for cover. All the same, he had no intention of being caught out. He would, he told himself, turn back the moment the storm came too close for his peace of mind. He would then make a run for it on the hard ground clear of the rocks.

  For the present he was following the easy course between the hills, the one they had previously taken and which he was fairly sure Adrian would take. That is, assuming he was still on his feet. For Ginger still held to the accident theory to account for his absence. In such a place all sorts of things might happen. Adrian would not, for instance, get far with a broken ankle; and in a fall among the rocks that could easily happen. He might have struck his head, knocking himself unconscious. Snakes, lizards and scorpions were common. They came out at night. So thought Ginger as he hurried on, looking about him in the brilliant moonlight and pausing sometimes to whistle, hoping for
a reply.

  Actually, his judgment of the situation was at fault. There were two factors which he failed to take into account. The first was the rapidity with which the storm was approaching. There was not a breath of wind at ground level, but he should have known that conditions at a high altitude might be altogether different. A gale could be raging higher up. As a pilot he should have allowed for that possibility. His second error, or oversight, was failure to comprehend the degree of darkness that would occur when the sky was completely covered.

  Darkness is a comparative term. It can be dark yet light enough to see, if only for a short distance. This, in the open air, is the most common form of what is called ‘dark’. Usually, total darkness — that is, an utter absence of light of any sort — is only to be experienced underground, in a cave at a distance from the entrance, for instance. The simple truth is, Ginger did not stop to think of the difficulty and danger of trying to make his way through the hills when the lights of heaven were extinguished by the mighty curtain now about to be drawn across them.

  It was not until he had reached the tomb without seeing a sign of Adrian, and there stood looking around, that he had the first doubts of the wisdom of what he was doing. Already the light was failing. The great black mass, now nearly overhead and stretching from horizon to horizon, was much nearer the moon than it had been a short while ago. In fact, he could see the movement, either of the cloud or the moon, or both, for they appeared to be racing towards each other. All the stars behind the cloud had already been blotted out and he realized that when the moon was covered, the only light he would get would be from those that remained; and they would go as the cloud rolled on its way.

  Flashes of lightning, becoming brighter as the storm drew nearer, only served to dazzle and make the darkness that followed more intense.

  He stopped. He listened. Not a sound. He whistled. No answer. He called softly. Silence. Again, a little louder. No reply.

  For a minute or two he waited, a prey to indecision. His common sense told him it was time to start back for the canyon; yet he hesitated, unwilling to admit failure. Moreover, he could not shake off a feeling that Adrian might be lying, helpless or even unconscious, no great distance from him. Why, otherwise, had he not returned? If he was on the ground he might be buried under sand when the storm broke; in which case he never would be found. It would never be known what had happened to him. It is not difficult to appreciate the quandary in which Ginger found himself.