25 Biggles In The Jungle

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25 Biggles In The Jungle Page 3

by Captain W E Johns


  Ì'll tell you how we could get over that,' declared Ginger. `We needn't all go down the river. If two of us stay here the machine would have to come back to pick us up.'

  `That's an idea,' agreed Biggles. Àlgy, suppose you run down to Belize and have a word with Carruthers? The rest of us will stay here. Tell him what we have learned and ask his advice. You could slip down today and come back tomorrow. There's no desperate hurry.

  '

  Òkay, if you think that's a wise plan.'

  Ì can't think of anything better. Come on, let's get some stores ashore and make camp.

  Ginger will have a chance to collect more butterflies while we're waiting.'

  Thus it was agreed, and shortly afterwards Biggles and Ginger, standing in front of a green canvas tent which they had erected, watched Algy in the Wanderer take off and head towards the coast. After it was out of sight they spent some time making the camp ship-shape, stacking the stores and fixing up their hammocks and mosquito nets. Dusky rested quietly in the shade on a waterproof sheet, on a small area of ground which he had burnt to drive away insect pests.

  When this task was completed, and there was nothing more they could do, Ginger took his butterfly-net and announced his intention of collecting some specimens. To his surprise, and somewhat to his indignation, Dusky protested, stating with sincere earnestness that this was a most dangerous thing to do. In response to Ginger's demand to be informed in what way it was dangerous, he declared that not only were there many pests, chiefly insect and reptile, in the forest, but there was also great danger of becoming lost. This Ginger found difficult to believe. As far as the pests were concerned, although he did not say so, he held the opinion that these were exaggerated. So far he had seen none except a few mosquitoes. He knew, of course, that such creatures as ticks and leeches abounded, but he felt that these

  were more likely to prove a source of annoyance than constitute any real danger to a well-dressed traveller.

  Biggles did not forbid him to go, but he warned him to be careful. Ginger readily gave his promise to take no risks, and said that in any event he would not go far from camp.

  He carried a revolver in his hip pocket, and this, he asserted, would enable him to take care of himself. With his butterfly-net under his arm and a killing jar in his haversack, he set off into the forest.

  At first he did not attempt to capture any butterflies, although he saw several, for he was too fascinated by his surroundings. In particular, the humming-birds of many species, all of brilliant colour, occupied his attention. Other birds were less common, although screaming macaws, in gorgeous liveries of yellow, blue and scarlet, occasionally flew overhead. There were also a number of toucans and tanagers, conspicuous in their black plumage with a fiery red blotch above the tail. Occasionally, too, he saw monkeys, but more often was only aware of their presence by the howling they set up as he approached.

  At one place, near a pool, he saw numerous butterflies, large blue Morphos, and others.

  Some were drinking; others circled above the pool like a fountain of flowers. He also noted a great variety of wasps, beetles, bees and bugs such as he had never seen before.

  He decided that he would endeavour to take some of the butterflies that were hovering over the pool, but he found it difficult to approach from the side on which he stood.

  Generally speaking, the forest was fairly open, except of course for the festoons of lianas, but between him and the pool there was a screen composed of a lovely creeping plant, with pink and rose coloured blossoms. It grew so thickly as to be impassable.

  When just before he had given his word that he would be careful not to lose his way, he had had every intention of observing it to the letter. Not even when he tried to reach the pool did he relax his vigilance, for he turned often to study the trees behind him so that he would recognize them again on his way back. Still taking note of his path, he started to make a detour in order to reach the pool from the far side. In doing this he came to a smaller pool, set in a sylvan glen of breath-taking beauty, and as there were as many butterflies here as round the larger pool, he decided that it would serve his purpose just as well. Forthwith he got busy, and had no difficulty in capturing as many butterflies as he could accommodate. He often took several .with one sweep of his net, and afterwards spent some time sorting them out and admiring them. At length, having decided that he had enough, he set about the return journey, observing that he had been rather longer than he intended, for it was beginning to get dark.

  It was now—as he afterwards realised—that he made his initial mistake. Some little distance away he saw the curtain of pink creepers that had prevented him from going straight to the larger pool, and thinking to cut off a corner, he went straight towards it. It was not until he reached the flowers, and saw no pool, that he realised that he had been mistaken in assuming that the flowers were those which he had originally seen. However, he was not in the least dismayed, for he could see the curtain of creepers a short distance ahead. Or he thought he could. It was not until he had reached them, and failed to find the pool, that he realised that these groups of creepers were common in the forest.

  It now began to rain, and the big drops added to his discomfiture. Giving way to a sense of annoyance, he struck off in the direction in which he felt certain his outward trail lay; and indeed he may have been right; but ifso, then he crossed the trail without seeing it. In another five minutes he knew that he was lost. To make matters worse, the foliage overhead was so thick that little light penetrated through it at the best of times; now, already, it was nearly dark. However, he did not lose his head. He did what in the circumstances was the wisest thing he could do. He stood still, and drawing his revolver, fired three shots in quick succession into the air. These were answered almost at once, and he drew a quick breath of relief to know that he was still within earshot of the camp.

  He started walking in the direction from which the answering shots had come, and this was, of course, his second mistake, although it was a natural one to make. When some minutes had passed, and he still did not meet Biggles, a doubt came into his mind, and he fired again—a single shot. It was answered by the report of a rifle, but it sounded a great distance away. In fact, it sounded farther off than it really was, for he had not yet learned that noises, and even shots, do not carry far in the density of the forest.

  After another interval he fired again, but this time there was no reply. It was now quite dark. Angry with himself for behaving, as he thought, like a greenhorn, he decided to make a fire, and with this object in view he incautiously broke off a piece of dead wood from a branch near at hand. A cry of pain broke from his lips, and he dropped the branch as if it had been red hot, for a numbing sensation in the palm of his hand told him that he had been stung. In the darkness he could feel something crawling up his arm. With a shudder of horror he dashed it off At the same moment another burning pain stung his neck, and he realised that he must have shaken one of the creatures—wasp, ant, he knew not what—off one of the upper branches.

  For a minute or two he stood still, getting himself in hand, well aware that at all costs he must not give way to panic. With a soft swish something brushed his face as it flew past, and he broke into a perspiration of fear. The rain stopped, and strange rustlings could be heard in the undergrowth. Once there was a coughing grunt not far away, a sinister sound which could only have been made by a large animal or reptile. Perhaps his greatest horror was that he would accidentally step on one of the snakes with which the jungle abounded.

  For how long he groped about in the darkness he did not know, but what with the pain from the many stings he received from insects and pricks from thorns, he became convinced that he would lose his reason long before dawn. Already he was on the border of delirium, and it was in sheer desperation that he fired his last shot.

  To his amazement and joy, it was answered by a shout no great distance away, and presently he saw the glow of a torch coming towards him. It was hel
d by Biggles. Dusky, hobbling on two sticks, accompanied him. He stood still until they joined him, after which Dusky led the way back to camp.

  Ginger thought little about his butterflies when he got back, for although he had been in the jungle only a few hours he had been stung all over, and had been pricked by countless thorns. Leeches were clinging to his legs; although these were easily removed.

  Weak and haggard from strain, he allowed Biggles to put some liniment on his wounds, and then retired to his hammock.

  Biggles did not reproach him. 'I think you'd be wise to follow Dusky's advice in future,'

  was all he said.

  `Don't worry, that was as much of the forest as I want—at any rate for the time being,'

  declared Ginger bitterly.

  `Twenty-four hours of that is about as much as any man can stand,' Biggles told him seriously. 'And now I think we'd better turn in.'

  4

  A VISITOR AND A MYSTERY

  IT was shortly before noon the following day that the drone of the Wanderer's engines announced the return ofAlgy. He landed, and taxi-ing up to the camp, shouted, 'I've brought a visitor!'

  Biggles stared, and saw a man in white ducks sitting next to him. 'Great Scott!' he ejaculated for Ginger's benefit, 'it's Carruthers.'

  The acting-Governor came ashore with Algy, bringing with him a tall, emaciated-looking man whose skin, yellow from recurrent bouts of fever, seemed to be drawn tightly over the bones. He carried a portfolio.

  Carruthers greeted the others warmly, and introduced the tall man as Marcel Chorro, his head clerk.

  `So you've run into trouble?' he queried.

  Ìt doesn't seem to surprise you,' returned Biggles.

  Carruthers shrugged his shoulders. 'Why should it? I've already told you that most people do, sooner or later, in this part of the world. If it isn't one thing it's another. But I must admit

  that you weren't long bumping into it.'

  Ì assume that Lacey has told you what has happened?' asked Biggles.

  `Yes.'

  `Good. Then let's sit down and discuss the matter. I'm anxious to hear your views.

  Ginger, you might bring something to drink.'

  Òkay, chief.'

  The party was soon arranged, and Carruthers opened the conversation.

  Ì think the first point to settle,' he began, 'is how you fellows feel about this affair. I mean, do you want to stay here or-do you want to continue your pleasure cruise?'

  Ì've got an open mind about it,' confessed Biggles. 'Frankly, what we do depends largely on your advice. What do you want us to do? You know the country; moreover, you're in a position of authority, so we certainly shouldn't run counter to your orders. How do you feel about things?'

  Carruthers sipped his drink, and lit a cigarette before he replied. 'It's a bit difficult,' he admitted. 'As I told you, we had heard rumours of the existence of this man who calls himself King of the Forest. There has also been talk of his assistant Bogat; but as for who they are, you know as much as I do. I knew nothing about this slave traffic, or about these excavations that are being carried on. Nor did I know of the coming of the other two white men. I can't imagine who they are.'

  `They aren't by any chance the survivors of the American party?' suggested Biggles.

  Ì should hardly think so. Why should they join up with brigands?'

  Ì take it you'd put a stop to this king business if you could?' questioned Biggles.

  Òf course. Really, we ought to stop it.'

  `Then why don't you?'

  Carruthers raised his hands, palm upwards, indicating the forest on either side. 'My dear fellow, do you realise how far the jungle extends? You could drop an army in it, and then spend

  the rest of your life looking for it without finding it. You'd certainly need an army to do any good, and that's something we haven't got here. Think what it would cost to send even a small body of men, with the necessary stores and equipment, on such a job.'

  Ì'm afraid I can't agree with you,' returned Biggles imperturbably. 'If I had the handling of this situation I shouldn't think in terms of armies. Half of the men would be in hospital most of the time, anyway. This is a job for a small, mobile unit.'

  Carruthers looked up sharply. 'You mean—like your party?'

  `Put it that way if you like.'

  Carruthers rubbed his chin. 'Perhaps you're right,' he admitted. 'All the same, it's quite obvious that you don't know what you're up against. What would you do? How would you start?'

  `Clearly, the first thing would be to locate the headquarters of this gang, and then ascertain just what they're doing. If they're breaking the law—and there doesn't seem to be much doubt about that---then the next step would be either to take them into custody or drive them out of their retreat.'

  `How?'

  `You're going rather too fast. It would necessarily depend upon circumstances. There must be a way of doing it, though. I say that because I have yet to be faced by a problem for which there is no solution.'

  Carruthers grimaced. 'It would be a dangerous business.' `What's that got to do with it?'

  The acting-Governor stared hard at Biggles. 'By Jingo! I like you,' he declared, 'I'm afraid we poor blighters who get stuck in the tropics get a bit slack. Seriously, would you, if I gave you the necessary authority, have a look round for me, and make some suggestions as to how we can put an end to this racket?'

  Ì should think so,' returned Biggles slowly. 'What do you mean by authority?'

  Ì could swear you in as special constables, but'—Carruthers laughed awkwardly—`you realise that I've no funds to meet this sort of thing? You would only get constable's pay—

  three bob a

  day. All the same, if the affair was brought to a successful conclusion no doubt the finance people at home would refund your out-of-pocket expenses.'

  `From a financial point of view I shouldn't call that an opportunity to be jumped at,' said Biggles, smiling. 'The Tiger must be robbing the State of thousands of pounds a year. If I apprehended him and secured a conviction I should expect a bonus.'

  Carruthers laughed. 'Of course, if you did secure a conviction these fellows would get a pretty heavy sentence; they would have their money taken off them, in which case there might be funds to meet your case. Suppose you leave that to me?'

  `Certainly. That's good enough,' agreed Biggles readily. 'I had to raise the point because we're not exactly millionaires. We should have to have a free hand, of course, so that we could go about the thing in our own way.'

  `Naturally.'

  Àll right.' Biggles looked at the others. 'That's seems to be all there is to say. We'll see what we can do.'

  `Splendid,' declared Carruthers. 'I'll leave the affair in your hands. And now, if that's all, I'd better be getting back to my office. I've plenty to do with the Governor away.'

  Ìn that case we'll have a bite, and then I'll fly you back,' answered Biggles. 'It was good of you to come up here.'

  `Not at all. On the contrary, I'm obliged to you for your help. Is there anything I can do for you?'

  `Yes, there is,' returned Biggles promptly. 'One of my difficulties is going to be petrol.

  You see, we reckoned to cruise about always keeping within easy reach of Belize, where we could refuel. My machine has got a pretty useful range, but I've always got to keep enough petrol in the tanks to get back to Belize. That is to say, if I find myself far from Belize I shan't have much margin for cruising, and running up and down to the coast would be an expensive business. Could you send some petrol up to us? It you could send it up the river the boatmen could make a dump somewhere handy.'

  Ì see your point,' answered Carruthers. 'That can be arranged. In fact, I can send you some right away. There's a small supply at one of our posts not far down the river, for the use of the government launch. I'll send it up by express paddlers. The main supply can follow. Meanwhile I'll get a message through to our nearest river post for the emergency petrol to be
brought up to you. Keep an eye on the river. If you see the canoe coming it might be a good idea to land near it and tell the men where you want the stuff put.'

  `That's a sound scheme,' agreed Biggles. 'It will save us a lot of trouble. I take it we can rely on this emergency supply coming? We should be in a mess if our tanks ran low and the stuff didn't arrive.'

  `Don't worry. I'll see to it,' promised Carruthers.

  `That's good enough for me,' declared Biggles.

  And that was the end of the interview. After lunch Biggles flew the acting-Governor back to Belize, where he spent the night, leaving the others in charge of the camp.

  He was in the cockpit early the following morning, anxious to get back to discuss ways and means of starting on their new project. Both for safety and simplicity he followed the river—for safety because it offered the only possible means of getting down should engine trouble develop, and for simplicity in that it marked an unmistakable course, and so enabled him to fly yet give his mind to other matters. Fortunately—as it transpired—

  he cruised along quietly, and there was never an occasion when he found it necessary to turn sharply, or otherwise put a strain on the aircraft. Not that there was anything unusual about this, for Biggles, like the majority of experienced pilots, never, in any circumstances, performed useless stunts.

  He was about fifty miles short of his destination, and was on the point of leaving the river for the lake, when he noticed the loose turnbuckle. Just why he noticed it would be hard to say, except that it becomes an instinctive habit for a pilot to keep an eye on everything around him, even though there may not appear to be any immediate necessity for it. His roving eyes, passing over the turnbuckle which braced the flying wires between the starboard wings, stopped suddenly and remained fixed. A second later his left hand slid to the throttle and eased it back; at the same time he moved the joystick forward slightly so that the Wanderer began a slow glide towards the river, at this point about a hundred yards wide.

 

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