As Ginger trod on the bottom step it seemed to give under his weight, and he fell back with a cry of alarm. The light went out. Simultaneously, the chamber echoed to a dull, hollow boom.
Algy needed no invitation to relight the piece of rag. At first glance there appeared to be no change in the scene, and it was Eddie, who happened to glance behind him, who called attention to what had occurred. The entrance had disappeared. The idol had swung back into place.
`When I was a kid,' announced Eddie sadly, 'my Ma always swore that my inquisitiveness would be the death of me. I guess she was right. Unless we can find the gadget that tips old frosty-face, I reckon we're here for keeps.'
`Let's have a look before we try to find it,' suggested Algy. `You may not have noticed it, but that idol fits into its socket like a piston into a cylinder. So does the outside slab. In that case, how does it happen that the air in here is so fresh? Look at the light. You don't suppose it would burn like that if the chamber wasn't ventilated somehow?'
`You're right,' agreed Ginger, sinking into the chair.
In an instant he was on his back, for the chair had collapsed in a cloud of dust. It did not break; it just crumbled, like tinder. `That chair must have been standing there an awful long
time,' said Eddie slowly.
Ginger, sneezing, sat on a pile of debris. It sank a little under his weight, and gave a soft metallic clink. A curious expression came over his face as he picked up a handful of the stuff. He said no word, but turning an amazed face to the others, allowed the pieces to drop one by one from his hand. They fell with a dull clink.
Tor the love of Mike,' breathed Eddie. 'It's metal.'
Ginger laughed hysterically. 'Feel the weight of it,' he cried. Ìt's gold!'
In a moment they were all on their knees examining their find, and soon established that the objects were not coins, but an extraordinary collection of small carved objects, trinkets, flowers, ears of corn, and the like. Digging into the pile, Algy pulled out a drinking-mug made in the form of a potato.
Ìt's the treasure all right,' he said in a strained voice, just as the light burnt out. '
Unfortunately, it's no earthly use to us at the moment, but it's nice to know it's here. Rip another strip off your shirt,' he ordered. 'Let's see about getting out of this trap.'
Ginger obliged, and by mutual consent they returned to the steps, from where they made a close examination of the back of the idol. They tried coaxing it open, and failing in this, they tried force. But it was no use. They could see the cracks that marked the dimensions of the opening clearly enough, but nothing they could do would widen them.
`We're wasting our time,' said Eddie in a melancholy voice.
`Don't you believe it,' returned Ginger. 'The old priests, or whoever made this dugout, wouldn't fix the thing without making some way of opening it from the inside. There's a trick in it. All we've got to do is to discover it.'
Ìf they were cute enough to make a trap like this you can bet your sweet life the trick won't be easy to solve,' said Eddie. 'Only those in the secret could get in and out.'
`What I should like to know,' remarked Algy, 'is where the fresh air is coming from. It can't percolate through solid stone.'
`You're dead right,' affirmed Eddie. 'There must be a hole, or a feed-pipe somewhere.
And I'll tell you something else. Even if there is a hole the air couldn't get in if we were below the level of the ground.'
`What are you talking about?' demanded Ginger. 'Of course we're below the level of the ground. We came downstairs.'
Ùnless the guys who built this hide-out installed a mechanical air-conditioning plant, which I'm not prepared to believe, then I say the air is coming in from some point below us,' declared Eddie.
Ì think you're right,' agreed Algy thoughtfully. 'If we can find the hole we shall know more about it.'
Abandoning the sealed doorway, they set about exploring the chamber, starting with the walls; but everywhere the massive stones of which the chamber was composed fitted so perfectly that the task seemed hopeless. Eddie turned his attention to the floor, dropping on his knees to examine it more closely.
`You've got to remember that the ancients were clever engineers, but even so, their work was limited to simple mechanics,' he remarked. 'They had a primitive idea of hydraulics and levers, so ' The voice broke off abruptly. It was followed by a soft thud.
Algy looked round. So did Ginger. Then they stared at each other.
`Hi! Eddie!' shouted Ginger.
There was no answer.
Ginger turned wondering eyes to Algy. 'He's—he's gone!' he gasped.
`D'you think I'm blind?' sneered Algy with bitter sarcasm, which revealed the state of his nerves. 'Where was he when he disappeared?'
Ginger shook his head. 'I don't know. I was looking at the wall.'
Àll right. Let's not get excited. There's dust on the floor. When we find the place where it has been disturbed we shall know where he was when he did the disappearing act.'
Ì hope he isn't hurt,' muttered Ginger.
`He's probably groping about on the wrong side of one of these slabs, trying to get back,'
asserted Algy, taking the light from Ginger's hand and starting to explore the flagstones which formed the floor. -
`This is the place,' he announced presently. 'Apart from the dust, the cracks round this slab are wider than the others.'
`Perhaps it tilts, like the one up top,' suggested Ginger.
`That must be the answer, otherwise Eddie couldn't very well have fallen through,'
replied Algy. 'Yes, that's it,' he went on quickly. 'The dust on this slab has disappeared. It probably fell into the hole, or whatever there is underneath, when Eddie went through.
We're getting warm. I expect it's a case of applying weight to one particular spot. The most likely place would be near the edge, just here—
Hi!'
Ginger grabbed Algy by the legs as the stone tilted suddenly and he started to slide. He nearly went in head first, and probably would have done had not Ginger dragged him back. As they struggled clear the stone swung back into place.
`Why did you let the hole close up again?' asked Ginger in a disappointed voice.
`Don't worry about that. We know the trick now,' answered Algy breathlessly. 'I don't want to land on my skull. We'll take this slowly; and as the trap closes automatically we'
d better jam it open with something, otherwise it may close behind us and prevent us from getting back.'
Ginger went to one of the heaps of treasure and returned with what looked like a wand, or sceptre. 'This ought to do,' he said.
`Fine,' agreed Algy. 'Slip it in the crack when the stone moves. As soon as the crack is wide enough we'll drop a match in to see how deep the hole is underneath—if there is a hole.'
By the light of the match they ascertained that there was, a drop, but only of about six feet; and the first thing they saw was Eddie lying crumpled up at the bottom, evidently unconscious.
Algy dropped down to him. There was no other way. Originally there had been a wooden ladder, but it now lay mouldering in a heap of dust. While Algy was examining Eddie, Ginger observed that the newly discovered cavity bore no likeness to the room they were in. It was more like an artificial cave, with the sides left rough. He also remarked a definite draught of air, refreshingly cool.
`How is he?' he called from above.
`He's got a nasty bruise on the forehead. He must have landed on his head; the blow knocked him out, but I don't think it's serious.'
Ìs that a room or a tunnel you're in?'
Algy held up the match and looked round. 'It's a tunnel,' he said. 'You'd better come down. Jam the flags open so that we can get back if necessary.'
Ginger dropped into the cave. 'I say! A disturbing thought has just occurred to me,' he remarked.
`What is it?'
Ìf Biggles comes back and finds no one in the chamber he'll wonder what on earth has become of
us.'
Algy clicked his tongue. 'I'm afraid he'll have to wonder,' he muttered wearily.
i6
CARRUTHERS TAKES A HAND
THEIR fears in this respect, however, had they but known it, were groundless. Biggles was miles away, sitting in a sylvan paradise between earth and heaven, wondering what to do next. Dusky, being a man of the country, was concerned only with the immediate danger—the Indians, who could be heard laughing and shouting some distance away.
Ì'm glad they chose Bogat for a target, and not me,' remarked Biggles.
`Dey know Bogat. Dey want him for a long time. Dey take you for an Indian.'
Biggles thought that this was probably the correct explanation. Not being a hypocrite, he made no pretence of being sorry for the brutal Bogat, or the treacherous Chorro, who had got no more than their deserts. An idea struck him.
Ìs this carpet firm enough to walk on?' he inquired.
`Sure, massa.'
`There's no risk of falling through?'
`No risk,' declared Dusky confidently. 'This stuff thirty or forty feet thick, maybe more.'
Ìn that case we ought to be able to work our way along so as to get above the aeroplane.
The river will serve as a guide.'
Dusky shook his head. 'If we walk, dem old parrots will set up a squawking and tell the Indians where we are. Better if we wait. Presently de Indians go.'
`Won't they smash the machine?'
`Dey too afraid to go near it,' said Dusky definitely. `Dey tink, maybe, it's a new god.'
Biggles was not so sure of this, but he was content to rely on Dusky's judgement. After all, he reflected, the old man had spent most of his life among the Indians, and should know their habits.
`Did you know the Indians were there?' asked Biggles, while they were waiting. He remembered that Dusky had stopped before the Indians had revealed their presence.
`Sure, massa.'
`How did you know?'
Ì smelled dem,' explained Dusky simply.
Biggles nodded. He was prepared to believe anything.
That Dusky had judged the situation correctly was presently proved when the Indians passed along the trail, in single file and in silence. As soon as they had disappeared into the dim corridors of the forest Dusky announced that it was safe to move. He did not descend straight to the ground, but kept to the treetops, picking his way carefully, with Biggles following. They were soon escorted by parrots and monkeys, which, coming close, but taking care to keep out of reach, set up a hideous clamour. Evidently they resented the intrusion into their domain, and left the invaders in no doubt as to their disapproval.
In several places there were holes in the floor, usually near the trunks of trees, such as the one through which they had made an entrance, and Dusky took care to keep well away from them. Eventually, however, he selected one, and stamping with his feet to make sure that he was on a branch, worked his way towards the hole. He pointed, and Biggles, to his infinite relief, saw the Wanderer almost immediately below. There was no sign of any damage.
Getting down to the ground was tricky and hot work, and Biggles was not a little relieved to stand once more on terra firma. Watching. the undergrowth closely, and with his rifle at the ready, he hurried to the machine, which, to his great satisfaction, appeared to be precisely as he had left it. Leaving Dusky on guard, he tore off the flimsy camouflage and prepared to cast off
Òkay, Dusky, come aboard,' he said in a tired voice, for strain, exertion, lack of sleep, and the humid atmosphere were beginning to tell. He was weary, hungry and thirsty, not to say dirty.
`Which way we go, massa?' asked Dusky anxiously.
Ì'm just wondering,' returned Biggles frankly, for now that the moment for departure had come he found himself in doubt. Two courses were open. The others, he knew, would be anxious about him, and he had an uncomfortable feeling that he had left them in the lurch. He had not stuck to his plan—not that this was entirely his fault. Algy and Ginger would no doubt agree that he had done the right thing when they knew what had happened, but in the meantime they would be worried. Nevertheless, it was not easy to see how he could rejoin them—anyway, until night fell. But apart from this he felt that the wisest course would be to go down the river and tell Carruthers what had happened.
He might be able to make a suggestion. If not, Biggles reasoned, he would have to come back and carry on the war single-handed.
`We're going down the river,' he told Dusky abruptly, as he made up his mind.
He started the engines and took off with a vague feeling of surprise that at last something was going according to order. He half expected the engines to break down. Indeed, on the journey to the coast he listened to their note with as much anxiety as he could ever remember, for if they let him down now he hardly dared think what the fate of the others would be.
The engines did not let him down, and he offered up a silent prayer of thankfulness when the sea came into view. In twenty minutes, leaving Dusky in charge of the aircraft, he was in the presence of the acting-Governor.
Carruthers looked him up and down with real concern.
Ì say, old man, you are in a mess,' he said sympathetically. `You need a bath, a Biggles broke in. 'I know. There are a lot of things I need, but I haven't time to attend to them now. Things have been
happening—they're still happening, and I've got to get a move on. My friends don't know I'm here—but I'd better give you a rough idea of what has happened. While I'm doing that you might get me a spot of something to eat.'
Carruthers sent his servant for a drink and some sandwiches, and these Biggles consumed as he told his story as concisely as possible.
`By Jingo! You have been having a time,' exclaimed the acting-Governor when Biggles had finished. 'What do you want me to do?'
`To tell the truth, I don't know,' confessed Biggles. 'I thought you might be able to make a suggestion. After all, we're working under you, and apart from personal considerations, I don't want to do the wrong thing.'
`We've got to rescue your friends and this American, and, if possible, arrest the Tiger.'
`That's it,' agreed Biggles. 'We'll grab these two crooks Warren and Schmitt at the same time. They deserve hanging for abandoning young Rockwell in the jungle. The trouble is, I can't be in two places at once. I rarely ask for assistance, but this seems to be a case where a little help would be worth a deal of sympathy.'
`That's what I was thinking,' murmured Carruthers, his lips parting in a faint smile.
`Do you really mean that?' asked Biggles sharply.
I might snatch a couple of days off to help you to clean up. If I could, what would you suggest?'
`Now you're talking,' said Biggles eagerly. 'You see, I can't be at both ends of that infernal stairway at the same time. The Tiger has got a guard posted at the top, to keep us trapped up
there—at least, that's what he thinks. If we had some men at the bottom of the steps we could keep him trapped. Otherwise even if we landed an army on the plateau, he'd simply bolt down the steps and disappear into the forest. How many men can you spare?'
`Ten or a dozen—native police, of course. They're good fellows.'
`Got a machine-gun?'
Ì could get one.'
Biggles thought quickly. 'Two good men under a reliable N.C.O., with a machine-gun, could hold the bottom of the stairway against an army. Three or four others arriving suddenly on the plateau, with another machine-gun, should be enough to stampede the Tiger's half-baked gang. Remember, I've already got three men up there. Let me see, by unloading most of my stores, at a pinch I could transport ten people up the river, including myself. Ten should be enough. We could land at the place where I just took off and unload Dusky, an N.C.O. and two men, with a machine-gun. Dusky would act as guide. He could show them where to place the gun so that it would cover the steps. Are you seriously thinking of coming?'
`Certainly.'
`Good. Very well. You and I, and four others,
would take off again and land on the plateau, and make a rush for this underground chamber I told you about. The idea of that would be to let my friends out. We should then have a force of nine men, which should be plenty. When the Tiger sees you he'll guess the game's up and bolt for the steps. His gang will follow him. We shall then have the whole bunch between two fires, and unless he's a lunatic he'll surrender. Believe me, that stairway is no place to fight a defensive action.'
Carruthers nodded. 'That sounds a good plan. When shall we start?'
`The sooner the better. How soon could you be ready?' Ìn an hour.'
`Fine. I'll refuel, have a bath, and meet you at the river in an hour from now. That will be one o'clock. If all goes well we ought to be back up the river by five-- just nice time.
There will be an hour or two of daylight left.'
`That suits me,' agreed Carruthers.
An hour later the heavily loaded aircraft, after a long run, took off and headed back up the river. Carruthers, with a service rifle across his knees, occupied the spare seat next to Biggles. Behind, packed in the cabin, was the little force of fighting men, all of whom were making their first trip in the air.
Biggles did not trouble about height—not that he could have gone very high with such a full load even if he had wanted to. Generally speaking, he followed the river, so that he would be able to land his human freight safely should the emergency arise.
After some time the first landing-place, the bend where Bogat and Chorro had met their deaths, came into view, and Biggles set the Wanderer down gently on the water. Here four men were disembarked—Dusky, a sergeant, and two policemen. In addition to their small arms, they carried a Vickers machine-gun. They knew just what to do, for their part in the operation had been explained to them before the start. Under Dusky's guidance they were to proceed to the foot of the stairway and take up a position covering it.
Anyone attempting to come down was to be arrested.
Biggles watched them file up the forest trail, and then, with an easier load, took off and headed for the plateau.
He tried to visualise what would happen when he landed. As he worked it out, the Tiger and his white associates would suppose that he was alone, in which case their mistake might cost them dear. Actually, he was not particularly concerned whether the Tiger fought or fled. His immediate concern was to get to the underground chamber and relieve Algy, Ginger and Eddie from their tiresome ordeal.
25 Biggles In The Jungle Page 14
