by W E Johns
‘Why should they like it?’
‘They get more fish than they ever had in their lives before.’
‘They can manage without your help. They’re going back to their village.’
‘Who says so?’
‘I do. And you’d better get back to where you came from.’
‘And what if I don’t?’
‘I’ll have to put you out.’
‘You and who else?’
‘A troop of African Rifles.’
The man modified his tone. ‘We’ve as much right here as anyone.’
‘Not the way you’re acting. You’re prospecting.’
‘What of it?’
‘Where are your licences?’
‘We don’t need any.’
Biggles’ expression hardened. ‘I’m not going to waste time arguing with you. I’m giving you twenty-four hours to get back across the frontier taking your gang with you. Stay here and I’ll have you in court on a charge of attempted murder.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘You know what I’m talking about.’
‘You’re a nice one to talk of murder,’ sneered the man. ‘Last night you shot one of my men. He’s like to die. If he does it’ll be you up for murder.’
‘You sent him into my camp to kill a man. What he got anyone else who comes near will get. Your leopard-killing racket may work with blacks but it cuts no ice with me.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘The man you sent into my camp left one of his gloves behind. I’m keeping it for evidence.’ Biggles turned to Charlie and pointed to the Zinns who, sensing trouble between the white men, had huddled closer together, looking frightened. ‘Go and tell those people to go back to their village. They’ve nothing to be afraid of. We’ll deal with any more leopards that come sneaking around.’
Charlie saluted and walked over to face the Zinns. He began speaking in his sing-song voice, and it was soon clear that his words were making a good impression. No one else moved. No one said anything while Charlie continued his speech.
The witch-doctor must have thought this had gone on long enough and decided to take a hand. With his short stabbing spear in his hand he began creeping towards the old soldier, who had his back to him.
Biggles, his lips pressed together in a straight line, strode forward. Coming up behind the witch-doctor he put his foot against him and sent him sprawling on his face. This done he seized the leopard skin and dragged it off him.
The man scrambled to his feet screaming like a wild animal. He turned on Biggles, mouthing, but stopped when he saw Biggles hadn’t moved, but stood there looking at him. He half raised his spear, whereupon Biggles stepped in and lashed him with the leopard skin, beating him with it until he half ran and half stumbled away. Then, throwing the skin on the ground, Biggles said to Charlie: ‘Tell the Zinns that’s what I think of leopard-men.’
‘That skin’s fresh,’ said Ginger.
‘I’d say it’s the beast I shot,’ returned Biggles.
All this had happened so quickly that the two Europeans, evidently taken by surprise, had not moved. The dark-skinned one now lowered the muzzle of the rifle he still carried.
‘I wouldn’t try anything like that,’ grated Ginger, whose revolver was now in his hand.
‘I’ll report you for this,’ stormed the white man.
‘I shall report it if you don’t,’ Biggles told him.
‘You can’t come into my camp and beat up one of my...’
Biggles cut in. ‘Why did you bring that dirty cut-throat here? No, you needn’t tell me. I know. Get him away before I lose my temper and shoot him like the snake he is.’
‘You’ll be sorry you laid hands on him. He’ll get you for that.’
‘Pah! Let him try. If I catch him near my camp I’ll string him up on the nearest tree. My last word to you is, pack up and get out. If you’re not off British territory in twenty-four hours I shall be along with a platoon of troops.’
Charlie was still talking to the Zinns, pointing in the direction of the village. He seemed to speak with more confidence now that he saw the strong line Biggles was taking. Or the way he had dealt with the witch-doctor may have had something to do with it. Anyway, it was obvious his words were having an effect, and this was confirmed when the Zinns began collecting their few primitive possessions — spears, baskets, nets and the like. Very soon they were moving in a body towards their village.
Ginger watched this standing tense, muscles braced, prepared for violence. The two Europeans stood together, speechless, as if unable to make up their minds what to do. The spear-carrying negroes watched their masters, waiting for a lead. The atmosphere was brittle, but nothing happened. It could be that the two Europeans knew that Biggles and Ginger were not alone at the bungalow. There were others there, with an aircraft available to fetch help. Any shooting would be heard by them.
Biggles prepared to follow Charlie and the Zinns, now making good time towards the village. Before leaving he had a last word. ‘Remember what I’ve told you. Get out while the going’s good and take your thugs with you. Any leopards seen prowling near the government rest-house will be shot on sight, without warning.’ He turned to the negroes, still watching. ‘Do you understand that?’ He waved a hand towards the west. ‘Go home or you’ll find yourselves in big trouble.’
With that he beckoned to Ginger, turned away and set off after the Zinns.
Ginger had an uncomfortable minute as he turned his back on the white men and their black supporters, quite expecting to feel a shot, or a spear, in his back. However, this did not happen. He followed Biggles’ lead in the matter of moral superiority and refrained from looking over his shoulder. Still, he breathed more freely as the distance lengthened between him and the danger.
‘Phew!’ he exclaimed, when they had gone some way. ‘That was touch and go.’
‘I’ve given them something to think about, anyway,’ asserted Biggles.
‘For sheer brass-faced bluff you’re the limit.’
‘What do you mean, bluff?’
‘Had they come for us we wouldn’t have had a hope. They were ten to two against us.’
‘I reckoned they’d behave as they did.’
‘They’re a bad lot.’
‘I wouldn’t say that. Not altogether. That half-caste, yes. He’s a liar, anyway. I’d say he’s a real bad hat. But the boss, I think, is the chap with the beard. He’s no stranger to Africa. In spite of his wild talk he knows he’s in the wrong in bringing in that witch-doctor. He knows I meant what I said and he’ll think about it. He has intelligence, which is more than can be said for the others.’
‘I only hope you’re right,’ returned Ginger, lugubriously.
‘He had his chance,’ Biggles pointed out. ‘He had only to make a signal, give the word, and there would have been fireworks. But he didn’t do it.’
‘Do you think he’s British?’
‘No. Western Europe, yes. Anyhow, he had the wit to realize that if he killed us he’d have to bolt. There could be no question of staying here after that.’
‘We still don’t know what it is they’re after.’
‘Not a clue. The two irresistible lures for prospectors are of course gold and diamonds, but from what I’ve seen of the terrain they won’t find either here.’
‘What about uranium?’
‘They wouldn’t be able to handle it if they found it. Moreover, they wouldn’t have gone about digging holes. They’d have used a geiger counter.’
‘Oil.’
‘I’d wager there’s no oil here. Oil would need plant to handle it. As foreigners they wouldn’t be likely to get a concession from the government. They’ve come in across the border, from the Congo. After today’s showdown I think they’ll go back.’
‘Charlie may be able to find out from the Zinns what they’re looking for.’
‘I doubt it. The Zinns have been digging holes but I’d bet the
y don’t know why.’
‘I take it you’ll stay here to see if the gang pulls out?’
‘Of course.’
‘What about the Zinns?’
‘We’ll put a guard on them. It shouldn’t be for long. But here we are at the village. We’ll leave Charlie here for the time being, with the rifle. I’ll tell him that in the event of trouble he has only to fire it to bring us along. I don’t think he’s afraid of that witch-doctor after what I gave him. If there is trouble he’ll be the cause of it. Did you see his face when I booted him?’
‘Did I? I’ve never in my life seen such an expression of hate. It was so horrible it gave me quite a turn.’
‘Forget it,’ advised Biggles.
CHAPTER 10
BIGGLES GOES HUNTING
An hour later, having left Charlie with the Zinns, Biggles and Ginger were back at the bungalow telling the others what had happened in the enemy camp. It was early afternoon. The Gadfly had been brought in and parked as Biggles had directed. Grandpa was still there.
It should be said that before leaving the village Biggles had a conversation with Charlie to find out how much he had learned from the Zinns during the walk up the side of the lake, Biggles had noticed him talking to them. Charlie had little to tell. The white men—the half-caste to him apparently came into that category—had made them dig holes in the ground, at first near the village but later in other places. They had given them fish for food. As Biggles had suspected, the Zinns had not the remotest idea of why they were digging. They hadn’t even thought about it. It was something the white men wanted. At first they had refused to leave the village, but did so when the witchdoctor threatened to send man-eating leopards after them. They were glad to be back in their own homes.
Charlie had obviously not been enthusiastic about remaining in the village, but like a good soldier he did not object. In leaving the rifle with him Biggles had promised that any time, day or night, one shot would be enough to bring them along. They would visit him as often as possible. This arrangement would only be for a day or two. So Biggles and Ginger had gone on, leaving him there as a temporary arrangement—actually, only until Biggles had made up his own mind what he was going to do. He wanted to think about the position in the light of what they now knew.
‘We’ve got a certain amount of information, but not enough, I think, to warrant our pulling out,’ he told the others when they were together at the bungalow. ‘I like to finish a job while I’m at it. What we still don’t know, and what we should know, is why these men came here in the first place. That’s really the crux of the whole business. Our best plan may be to stay here until we see if these fellows accept my ultimatum and push off home, wherever that may be. I’m pretty sure they came in from across the border. From the type of negro they have with them I’d say they came from the Belgian Congo, where, as you know, there’s been a spot of bother lately. If they go, so well and good. If they stay, I’ll report to Nabula, when no doubt some troops will be sent up to chuck ‘em out.’
‘Why chuck ‘em out?’ questioned Algry. ‘Why not arrest them on a charge of murder?’
‘That would be for the R.M. to decide. With what little evidence we have I don’t think there’d be much chance of a conviction. They’d say if there had been murders they knew nothing about it. They’d claim, probably with success, that they couldn’t be held responsible for what had been done by natives.’
‘Well, obviously they haven’t found what they’ve been looking for or they’d have gone home anyway,’ opined Algy. ‘Look at the area they’ve covered with their digging! What can they be after?’
Biggles shook his head. ‘I haven’t a clue. It has me completely foxed. It’s evidently something in the ground. From these piles of mud we see on the bank they’ve even tried dredging the lake. I’d say the lake was once the crater of an extinct volcano. It filled with water. Now it’s drying up. All that’s left is part of the outer rim. Anyhow, that’s how it looks to me. I suppose there could be diamonds here but the place doesn’t look like a diamond field. Not that I’m an expert on such matters.’
‘These men didn’t come here on a casual prospecting trip,’ declared Ginger. ‘They wouldn’t have stayed in one place so long, or done as much digging as they have, had that been the case. They came here expecting to find something. In other words, they had information. So far they haven’t struck the gold, diamonds, or whatever the stuff might be.’
‘That makes sense,’ agreed Biggles.
‘How about doing a spot of digging ourselves?’ suggested Bertie, brightly. ‘I could do with a bucket of diamonds.’
‘Don’t fool yourself,’ said Biggles. ‘If we found diamonds, and kept them, we’d all land in gaol. Prospecting for diamonds is forbidden by law.’
‘Okay,’ said Algy impatiently. ‘So what do we do? I can’t see much sense in staying here just to feed the mosquitoes.’
‘Don’t be in a hurry,’ requested Biggles. ‘The men may go. If they try to hang on sooner or later they’ll give themselves away. They wanted the place to themselves. That’s why they introduced these leopard-men, to scare everyone else away. Our arrival here has upset their routine. Seeing we intend to stay they’ll get desperate, in which case they may show their hand. We’ll wait—and watch.’
‘Which means carrying on with night guards, I suppose.’
‘More than ever.’
‘They’re an awful bind.’
‘Not such a bind as having your face torn off by a bunch of leopard claws. Now let’s have something to eat. Which reminds me. Now we’ve put the Zinns back in their village they may need food. I reckon there’s about a hundred of them, men, women and children, and they won’t be able to catch enough fish this afternoon to feed that lot. I don’t think they brought any food back with them.’
‘We shall have to do something about it or they may drift back to those blighters at the end of the lake,’ said Bertie. ‘And I’ll tell you something else. I don’t feel very happy about leaving Charlie there on his own all night. It’s asking a lot of him.’
‘He didn’t object. Anyway, I had to arrange something, and there wasn’t much time to think about it. I left him the rifle, and told him he has only to fire a shot to bring us along. But we can talk about that while we’re having lunch, which my stomach tells me is overdue.’
‘It’s a pity you didn’t arrest those two toughs while you were at it,’ remarked Algy, as they sat at the table. ‘That might have saved a lot of time and trouble.’
‘What you mean is, it would have caused a lot of trouble,’ answered Biggles, with some asperity. ‘Don’t imagine I didn’t consider it.’
‘Then why didn’t you do it?’
‘What could we have done with them? We’ve nowhere to put them. We couldn’t keep them tied up. No, I decided that was a job for the District Magistrate. If you like you can say I took the easy course. After all, we weren’t sent here to arrest anyone. Our job was to find out what was going on. We still don’t know what—at least, not all of it. I doubt if we had a case against them.’
‘They interfered with the Zinns.’
‘In court they could claim they’d found the Zinns starving so they’d got them some fish—provided them with more fish than they’d ever seen in their lives. We couldn’t deny that. I think it’s better as it is. We’ll give them a couple of days and see what happens. We can keep an eye on them from the machine.’
Over a quick lunch, although it was nearer tea-time, Bertie volunteered to go along to the village and spend the night with Charlie. He’d go down about dusk. Biggles told him he thought it was a good idea if he was prepared to do that.
‘I’ll try to get them some grub to go on with until they get back to their fishing routine,’ he said. ‘I don’t feel much like fishing myself so I’ll take a walk along the bank and try for a buck. It shouldn’t be too difficult. Presently they’ll be drifting towards the lake for a drink. If I get one Grandpa can tell the Zinns where i
t is and they can collect it. He might as well go back to the village now. He should be safe enough with his own people.’
‘Here comes Charlie,’ said Ginger from the door. ‘I wonder what he wants?’
Curiosity was soon relieved. Charlie said he had been talking to the Zinns. They had told him that some moons ago a white man had come to the lake from the west. He had dug holes, washing the mud in a pan. Then he had put some of the red dust in the pan and cooked it. Then he had gone away. He had never been back. That was all. Charlie said he thought they would like to know about it.
‘Cooked it!’ exclaimed Algy, frowning. ‘They can’t mean that literally.’
Biggles, too, had knitted his brows. ‘I’m not so sure of that,’ he said slowly, thoughtfully. ‘That operation, cooking red dust, rings a bell. It’ll come to me presently.’ He turned to Charlie. ‘What are those bad men doing now? You can see them from the village.’
‘They just stand about, bwana. Do nothing.’
‘No more digging?’
‘No, bwana.’
‘Are the Zinns glad to be back?’
‘Yes, bwana.’
‘How do they go for food?’
‘Bad. Too many mouths. Tomorrow they fish.’
‘I was afraid of that. Would they eat meat if I could get some?’
‘Better than fish, bwana. Only eat fish because can’t catch meat.’
‘Will you come with me if I try to shoot something for them?’
‘Yes, bwana.’ From Charlie’s expression a hunting trip met with his entire approval. He had brought the Express rifle with him.
‘All right. Then let’s go.’ Biggles turned to the others. ‘I shall walk down this side of the lake,’ he advised them, indicating the direction away from their enemies. ‘Whether I get anything or not I shall be back before dark. Keep an eye on things while I’m away although I doubt very much if you’ll have any trouble. Bertie, if you’re really going to spend the night in the village you might try to get a nap now. You’ll probably be up most of the night.’
Biggles set off, with Charlie, rifle on his shoulder, walking close behind him.
