By air it was only a short distance to the plateau. Biggles did not waste time circling, for he knew there were no obstructions to be cleared. Lowering his wheels, he made for the spot he had chosen on the previous occasion.
`Tell your fellows to be ready to bundle out smartly as soon as the machine stops,' he told Carruthers. 'We're likely to come
under fire right away, so get the machine-gun in action as quickly as possible. I don't think the Tiger will face it.' `Leave it to me,' rejoined Carruthers quietly.
As he glided down to land Biggles could see men running from the village and many faces staring upward. It appeared as if the arrival of the machine had caused something like consternation. At the distance, however, he could not distinguish the Tiger.
The wheels touched; the machine rocked a little, and then ran on to a safe if bumpy landing. Kicking on hard rudder, and at the same time giving the engines a burst of throttle, Biggles guided the machine towards an outcrop of rock which he thought would make good cover. As soon as the Wanderer stopped he switched off, and grabbing his rifle jumped down. The others poured out behind him. Shots were already flicking up the dust, so the men, under Carruthers' leadership, made a dive for the rocks and there assembled the machine-gun.
About a dozen of the Tiger's men, led by the Tiger himself, were by this time sprinting towards the aircraft; but as the machine-gun started its devastating chatter they acted as Biggles expected they would. They turned and fled, leaving two of their number on the ground. Biggles picked off another man and then jumped to his feet.
`Come on! Let's get after them,' he said crisply.
But now things took a surprising turn, a turn for which Biggles thought he should have been prepared, but as a matter of fact the possibility had not occurred to him. The labourers, who were really nothing less than slaves, were working in the trench. Biggles had noticed them before he landed, but they did not come into his calculations. It seemed, now, as if they suddenly realised that deliverance was at hand. They were nearly all natives from the coast, and perhaps they recognised Carruthers' spotless white uniform. Be that as it may, with one accord, and with a wild yell, they leapt out of the trench and attacked their masters, using as weapons the tools they held in their hands Biggles saw the gang-boss go down under a rain of blows from picks and shovels. The survivors of this onset, the Tiger among them, bolted for the steps, pursued by a yelling crowd. Some, in their desperate haste to escape, threw away their rifles.
`What on earth is happening?' cried Carruthers.
Ìt looks as if the Tiger's slaves have decided to take a hand,' answered Biggles grimly.
They could do nothing to prevent the massacre that followed, for they were still a good two hundred yards away, and the slaves were between them and the fugitives. Biggles ran on,
followed by the others, hoping to save life if it were possible, and anxious to get to the chamber.
Just before he reached it he saw a fearful sight. Five or six brawny natives, fleeter of foot than the rest, overtook the two white men, Warren and Schmitt, at the head of the stairway. The hunted men screamed as hands fell on them and pulled them down.
Carruthers, seeing what was likely to happen, shouted, but he might as well have saved his breath. For a moment there was a knot of struggling figures. Then they separated, and the two white men, clutching at the air, swung out over the awful void. Then they disappeared from sight, their screams growing fainter as they plunged to destruction.
Biggles left the rest to Carruthers. Feeling a, trifle sick, he dashed to the chamber, and saw, for the first time, the effect of the explosion. He realised at once that the others must have been trapped.
He beckoned to some of the ex-labourers who were standing about talking in excited groups and made them clear the masonry. As soon as the slab was exposed he opened it.
`Hullo there!' he called cheerfully.
There was no answer.
Biggles felt his heart miss a beat. He went down the first few steps and struck a match, holding the light above his head. His fears were at once confirmed. The chamber was empty. And there he stood, flabbergasted, until the match burnt his fingers.
`Hullo!' he shouted again, in a voice that had suddenly become hoarse.
But there was no reply.
Slowly, hardly able to believe his eyes, he made his way back up the steps to the fresh air.
Carruthers appeared. 'What's the matter?' he asked quickly, noting the expression on Biggles's face.
`They're gone,' said Biggles in a dazed voice.
`Gone?' echoed Carruthers incredulously. 'Where could they have gone?'
Biggles shrugged his shoulders helplessly. 'Don't ask me,' he said bitterly. 'I'm no magician.'
17
UNEXPECTED MEETINGS
BIGGLES might well have wondered what had become of Algy, Ginger and Eddie; and, as the idol had swung back into place, he might have searched for a long time without finding them. The earth had—as near as may be—opened and swallowed them up.
Eddie was a long time recovering from his fall, for only on the screen do people who have been stunned by a blow on the head recover in a few seconds. Algy and Ginger could do little to help him. They had not even any water. All they could do was squat beside him, rubbing his hands and fanning his face, at the same time debating whether they should try to carry him down the cave which they could see stretched for some distance—how far they did not know. It appeared to plunge down towards the centre of the earth.
They lost all count of time; indeed, they did not even know whether it was day or night when Eddie, after a few weak groans, eventually opened his eyes. Once consciousness returned he made fairly good progress, and presently was well enough to ask what had happened. He himself had no recollection beyond groping about on the floor looking for a trap-door.
`You found it,' Algy told him with humorous sarcasm. `Having found it, you dived through and landed on your head.'
Eddie struggled into a sitting position. 'Where are we?'
Àsk me something easier,' returned Algy wearily. 'Still, if you're well enough to get on your feet we'll try to find out. It's no use going back, so we may as well go forward.'
Now, all this time Ginger had kept a small fire going by tearing pieces off his shirt, with the result that there was very little of the garment left.
Eddie got up, rather unsteadily, while Ginger recklessly tore the remaining piece of shirt into strips to provide illumination. With this improvised torch he led the way, the others following,
Eddie leaning on Algy's arm.
For some time nothing happened. The cave, a rough, narrow tunnel just high enough to enable them to stand upright, took a winding course downward at a steep angle. It seemed to go on interminably, but then suddenly opened out into a tremendous cavity in the earth, not unlike a cathedral. Enormous stalactites, like rows of organ-pipes, dropped from the roof to meet spiky stalagmites that sprang upwards from the floor. From all around came the faint drip, drip, drip, of water, an eerie sound in such a place.
`Now what have we struck?' asked Ginger in an awed voice, looking round. He took a pace forward, but backed hastily. `What's wrong?' asked Algy.
`The floor's soft.'
`What do you mean—soft?'
`What I say. It feels like mud. It won't bear my weight.'
Algy stepped forward and tested it. 'You're right,' he said slowly. 'We seem to have struck a confounded bog.'
Ìt looks as if we shan't be able to get any farther.'
`Just a minute,' put in Eddie. 'Of course, there's always a chance that the bog has only been formed in recent years, but if it was always here, then surely there must be a way across, otherwise there would be no point in making the cave.'
`That's a reasonable argument,' agreed Algy. 'All the same I can't see any bridge.' He began exploring the mud with his feet. `Just a minute, what have we here?' he cried. 'It feels like a lump of rock just under the surface.'
Ginger trie
d it. 'That's what it is,' he said, standing on it. Groping with his foot, he found another. 'That's it,' he went on. `There are stepping-stones, but either they've sunk or the mud has risen and covered them. Let's see if we can get across.'
`Gosh! I don't think much of this,' muttered Algy as he followed. 'What about you, Eddie?' Can you manage?'
`Yes, I reckon so,' answered Eddie, holding on to the wall for support. He drew his hand away sharply. 'It's all right,' he went on quickly. 'It's only water. It's collected in a sort of basin in the rock. There must be a flaw, a fissure, in the rock, that lets the rain water in from above.'
`Water!' gasped Ginger. 'Let's have a drink. My throat's like dust.'
In a moment they were all drinking greedily out of their cupped hands.
`That's better,' exclaimed Ginger, rinsing his grimy face. `You're sure right,' agreed Eddie. 'I feel a heap better for that.'
They now proceeded again, Ginger, carrying the flame, leading the way. Several times a false step got him into difficulties. Once he stepped off the path and sank up to the waist in slime. Algy had hard work to pull him out, while all around the disturbed area of mud quaked and threw up huge noisome bubbles.
`Phew! What a stink,' muttered Ginger disgustedly. 'We ought to have brought masks,' he added, trying to make light of the incident.
A moment later Eddie exclaimed, 'You're right at that.' Àbout what?'
`Gas masks. My head's beginning to swim. There's sulphur in this gas. Push on, but don't fall in again, or you'll send up more gas.'
Ginger needed no second invitation, and it was with a shout of relief that he saw the stepping-stones ahead protruding above the mud. Once they could see them, progress became faster, and it was not long before they arrived at what appeared to be a continuation of the cave,, although it was now much larger.
Ginger turned, and holding up the flame in such a way that it burned more brightly, took a last look at the subterranean mere.
Ì say, you fellows, what's that?' he asked in a startled voice. 'I mean—that shadow—
over there. It seems to be coming towards us.'
The others turned and looked, and saw, as Ginger had remarked, that a broad dark shadow was moving across the morass towards them. The strange thing about it was that it did not maintain an even rate of progress. It seemed to dart forward a little way, then pause, then come on again.
`Say! I don't like the look of that,' said Eddie. 'What could cause a shadow in here?'
`That isn't a shadow,' answered Algy in a hushed whisper. It's something—alive. I believe it's thousands of insects of some sort. Yes, by gosh, that's it. Just look at 'em.
They look like whacking great water-spiders. What do they call those big spiders?
Tarantulas. Their bite is poisonous.' He ended on a shrill note.
The others did not wait to confirm this. With one accord they turned about and fled up the cave.
After going a little way Ginger looked over his shoulder. `Look out!' he yelled. 'They're coming!'
They blundered on. There was no longer any question of going back.
`The next time you want to go adventuring, my lad, you'll go alone,' panted Algy once, viciously.
It was more by luck than judgement that Ginger spotted the opening—or at least one opening, for there may have been others. They were not even thinking of one, for the cave still went downwards. Ginger happened to look up a side turning, and noticed a ghostly grey glow. He pulled up short.
`What's that?' he shouted.
The others stopped and looked. For a moment silence reigned.
Ìt's daylight!' yelled Algy.
There was a rush for the spot. Algy reached it first, and gave a cry of disappointment when he saw that the light came through a narrow crack only a few inches wide, although it was a yard or more long. A mouse might have got through it, but nothing larger. Beyond, showing as a strip of blue silk, was the sky. It was obvious that the crack was merely a flaw in the rock, due, no doubt, to the effect of wind and rain on the outside.
Ginger, holding up the light, looked behind, and a gasp of horror broke from his lips when he saw the vanguard of the tarantulas only a few yards away.
Algy saw them too, and it was in sheer desperation that he flung himself against the rock, near the crack. He had no genuine hope that it would widen sufficiently to allow him to go
through, consequently he was utterly unprepared for what happened. The whole rock gave way under his weight, and after a vain attempt to save himself; he fell through behind it. The next moment he was clutching wildly at anything as he slid down a short but steep slope to what seemed certain destruction, for all he could see below him was a fearful void. A little avalanche of rocks preceded him to the brink. Loose boulders followed him down. He gave himself up for lost.
When his heels struck solid ground he could hardly believe his good fortune. Then, not before, did he see where he was. He was on the stairway. On either hand ran the narrow cornice. Even then he nearly went over the edge, for a piece of rock, catching him in the small of the back, sent him sprawling. He fell across the path with his legs in space. With frantic haste he drew them in, caring little that his rifle went spinning into the void.
Now Ginger's startled face had appeared at the aperture behind Algy, so he had seen everything that had happened. He also saw something which Algy did not see.
Happening to glance up the steps, he saw to his amazement and alarm that somebody was coming down—running down. There was no need to look twice to ascertain who it was. It was the Tiger. Ginger let out a yell of warning.
`Here! Grab this!' he shouted, and allowed his rifle to slide down the slope.
At this moment he in turn was warned by Eddie that the tarantulas were on their heels, so half slipping and half sliding, he followed the rifle to the steps. Eddie came down behind
him, and nearly knocked him over the edge. By the time they got down to him, Algy was covering the Tiger, who appeared to be unarmed, and shouting to him to go back.
Now, it must be remembered that none of them knew what had happened on the plateau, so not for an instant did it occur to them that the Tiger was a fugitive. On the contrary, they supposed that either by luck, or by judgement beyond their understanding, he had deliberately aimed to intercept them. And when a yelling horde of Indians and half breeds appeared round the bend higher up the steps, it only tended to confirm this. That the Indians were, in fact, pursuing the Tiger, did not occur to them. There was no reason why it should.
The Tiger pulled up when he saw the three white men in front of him. He threw a nervous glance over his shoulder, although this gave the impression that he was waiting for his men to come to his assistance. The situation appeared critical.
Algy addressed the Tiger. 'Get back,' he ordered. 'Get back and tell those men of yours to stop, or I'll shoot you.'
The Tiger appeared not to understand. He shouted something, either in Spanish or in a local dialect. Anyway, none of those below him knew what he said. Then he did a surprising thing. He looked up, then down the steps. Then he surveyed the face of the cliff. Before any of the watchers suspected his intention, with a cat-like leap he reached a narrow ledge above the path, a ledge that was not visible to those below. Along this ledge he made his way towards the hole from which the comrades had just emerged.
At first Algy thought he simply intended getting above them, but as soon as he realised what he was going to do, he shouted a warning. Again, either the Tiger did not understand or he took no notice. He disappeared into the hole.
He was out of sight only a moment or two. Then he reappeared, screaming, snatching and striking at a number of black hairy objects that were running over his body. He appeared to forget where he was, so it came as no surprise to the horrified watchers when he lost his balance and fell. He landed head first on the stairway amid a shower of rocks, and there he lay, limp in unconsciousness.
For a second or two Ginger stared blankly at the wretched man, h
is brain trying to keep pace with events. As in a dream he saw Algy bring his heel down viciously on a loathesome great spider, and shuddered. Then, remembering the Tiger's men, he looked up the steps and saw with fresh astonishment that they had stopped. One man now stood a little way in front of the others. It was a white man, in spotless ducks. He blinked and looked again. 'I'm going crazy,' he muttered.
Algy, looking rather pale, swung round. 'What are you talking about?' he snapped.
Ginger pointed. 'Is that Carruthers, or am I beginning to imagine things?'
Algy stared. He passed his hand wearily over his forehead. Ìt's Carruthers, all right,' he said. 'If he's here, then Biggles shouldn't be far away.'
Ì don't get it,' muttered Eddie in a dazed voice. `Something seems to have happened while we were away,' murmured Algy.
Then Carruthers raised his hand in greeting, and shouted: `What are you fellows standing there for? Come on up. We were wondering where you were. It's all over.'
Algy turned a stupefied face to Ginger. 'Did you hear that?' he said incredulously. 'It's all over.'
`What's all over?' demanded Ginger, whose nerves were beginning to crack.
`Let's go up and find out,' suggested Algy.
They went slowly up the steps. Carruthers went on ahead of them. They could hear him shouting. By the time they reached the top Biggles was standing there.
`What do you fellows think you're playing at?' he inquired curtly.
`Playing!' snorted Algy. 'Playing! That's pretty good.' He laughed bitterly.
Ì told you to wait until I came back.'
`So we should have done if somebody hadn't blown the place up.
`What happened to the Tiger?' asked Biggles.
Algy told him. 'Some of the slaves are carrying him back up here,' he concluded.
25 Biggles In The Jungle Page 15
