by Enid Blyton
When Tala was tinkering with the engine, Oola crept away to see Philip. He sat down in a corner and feasted his eyes on the boy, noting the tuft of hair in front, just like Dinahs, the loud, merry laugh and the way he waited on his mother.
Oola nodded in satisfaction. This was his ‘boss’; never before had he met anyone to whom he wanted to give such utter loyalty or love. He had never known his mother, who had died when he was born, and he had hated his father, who was as cruel as Bula, his uncle. When his father had gone away he had given the boy to Bula, to be of use to him in his snake-charming.
And then had begun a miserable life for Oola, which had become steadily worse. But now – ah, now he had chosen a master, his ‘boss’ Philip, the boy who sat over yonder, listening to big Mister Bill. Oola patted his full stomach contentedly, and thought about the present he had given to his ‘boss’. Philip had the snake in his pocket – or somewhere about him – yes, under his shirt. Oola could see the boy put his hand there at times as if he were caressing something.
He heard his name being spoken by Bill, who was just then saying, ‘And WHAT are we going to do with Oola?’
Oola’s heart nearly stopped beating. To do with him? What did Big Mister Bill mean? Would they throw him overboard – or give him to the police? He bent forward anxiously to listen – and just at that moment a strong brown hand came down, and yanked him upright by the neck.
It was Tala! ‘What are you doing here?’ he said, in his own language. ‘Sitting here half asleep in the morning! You come and help me, you lazy little son of a tortoise!’
Oola gazed at him fiercely, but did not dare to disobey. The words Bill had said rang in his ears still. ‘What are we to do with Oola?’
Bill and the others were discussing everything. Bill was all for putting the boy ashore, giving him some money and letting him go off to some relative. How could they bother with a boy like that on the boat?
Mrs Cunningham wanted him to have a chance. ‘At least let him stay till we’ve fed him up a bit and put some flesh on him,’ she said. ‘He’s such a miserable little specimen. And when he looks up at me with those big frightened eyes as if all he expects is a blow, I just can’t bear it.’
‘He’d be an awful nuisance to Philip,’ said Bill. ‘I know what it is when one of these kids takes a fancy to anyone. Philip would find him underfoot all the time!’
‘I could deal with him,’ said Philip quietly. ‘I wouldn’t mind.’
‘What do you others think?’ asked Mrs Cunningham, looking round.
‘We’d like him,’ said Lucy-Ann, and everyone nodded. ‘We’ll keep him busy – and so will Tala! Once Tala has got used to him he’ll like him, I know he will. Don’t send him away, Bill.’
Dinah was sitting as far away from Philip as she could, trying not to think of the snake he had somewhere about his person. She still felt very upset but she was doing her best to be sensible. Bill felt pleased with her. He turned to her.
‘You agree too, Dinah?’
She nodded. ‘Yes. I wish he was cleaner and not so skinny, but I like him.’
‘Oh, well – we can soon get rid of the dirt and the bones, said Bill. ‘I’ll give him a trial, and tell Tala to see that Oola washes himself, and has a clean bit of cloth to wind round his middle. I’ll call Oola. OOLA! OOLA!’
Oola dropped the piece of wire he had been holding while Tala tinkered with the engine and ran forward immediately, his heart thumping. Was he to be turned away?
He stood before Bill, eyes downcast. ‘Oola,’ said Bill, ‘we are going to give you a chance and let you stay with us while we are on this ship. You will do everything that Tala tells you. I am Big Mister Bill, he is Little Mister Tala. Understand?’
‘Big Mister kind, Big Mister good!’ said Oola, his eyes shining. ‘Oola glad. Oola be good worker!’
He looked at Philip, his face one big smile. ‘I be with my boss!’ he said to him. ‘Oola boss’s servant! Oola work for him!’
Bill called Tala. ‘Tala! Come here a minute!’ Tala came so quickly that it was quite obvious he had been listening. He saluted and stood waiting, his face rather stern.
‘Tala – Oola is to stay with us while we are on the ship. See that he washes himself and eats properly. See that he does not steal. Give him work to do. Tell me if he is good or bad.’
Tala saluted again but said nothing. He sent a quick look at Oola, who was now standing as close to Philip as possible, his head bowed, listening.
‘That’s all, Tala,’ said Bill. ‘Today we go on down the river, and I will tell you where to stop.’
‘Very good, Sir,’ said Tala, and went off, still looking rather grim. He heard his name called again.
‘Tala! Tala, Tala, Tala!’ He went running back at once. But this time the caller was Kiki, who felt that she could not keep silent any longer!
‘Tala! Wipe your feet! One, two, four, seven, three, quick march! PHEEEEEEEEEEEE!’
The police-whistle ending startled everybody, especially Oola, who almost threw himself overboard in his fright. Tala forgot his gloom and burst into one of his enormous guffaws, staggering about the deck in delight at the parrot’s ridiculous talk.
‘Stop that whistling, Kiki,’ ordered Mrs Cunningham. ‘It goes right through my head. What a din!’
‘Din-din-din-dinner!’ chanted Kiki, enjoying the interest she had created. ‘Din-din-din . . .’
But a sharp tap on her beak from Jack silenced her, and she flew to a corner and muttered rude things all to herself.
‘Tala, take Oola with you and deal with him,’ said Bill. ‘See that he gets clean from top to toe first of all. He’s dirty.’
This was news to Tala. He hadn’t realized that Oola was dirty from his journey. He looked in his direction at once and pretended that he could see something horrid. He wrinkled up his nose in disdain.
‘Bad,’ he said scornfully. ‘Bad dirt. Pooh!’
‘Pooh!’ repeated Kiki in delight, waddling out of her corner. ‘Pooh! Boo! Bad dirt, pooh!’
Tala roared, grabbed Oola by the hand and went off with him, Oola protesting all the way.
When they were safely out of hearing, Jack turned to Bill.
‘Did anything interesting happen last night?’ he asked. ‘At Ala-ou-iya, I mean. You were jolly late back, weren’t you?’
‘Yes. I don’t know that I found out much,’ said Bill. ‘The man I had to contact didn’t come home to his house till fairly late, and I had to wait for him. He knows Raya Uma, of course, and he thinks he is up to something, because he keeps disappearing, but nobody knows where he goes.’
‘What is Uma supposed to be doing when he isn’t disappearing?’ asked Mrs Cunningham.
‘Well, apparently he is interested in Cine-Town,’ said Bill. ‘He goes there quite a lot – has a bedroom in the big hotel they’ve run up there. He says he was an actor himself once, and is extremely interested in films – that may be just a tale, of course, to cover other activities.’
‘Yes – but I can quite well believe that he was once an actor,’ said Mrs Cunningham. ‘Those photographs you have of him – they might all be of different men! I am sure he could put on different voices and ways with each change of costume!’
‘You’re right,’ said Bill. ‘Well, granted that he was once an actor, and is interested in films, where does he disappear to for a week or ten days every now and again? He’s up to mischief of some kind, I’m sure!’
There was a pause. ‘What sort of mischief, Bill?’ said Jack.
‘Well – here is a list of some of his past activities,’ said Bill, taking out a notebook. ‘Gun-running on a big scale – that means supplying guns illegally to those who will pay a big price for them. Spying – he’s clever at that, but no Government will use him now, because they can’t trust him – he’s quite likely to go over to the other side if they offer him a bit more.’
‘What a charming fellow!’ said Jack, stroking Kiki, who was now on his knee.
�
��And smuggling,’ said Bill. ‘That’s another thing he is very successful at. He did it on such a big scale once that he almost made himself a millionaire – then someone gave him away, and in spite of big bribes he offered to others to take the blame, he had to go to prison. Well – those are just a few things he has done. Now it’s said that he has very little money indeed, not many friends and is determined to pull off something big.’
‘And you think that something big might be hatched out here?’ said Philip. ‘How can you stop him?’
‘It isn’t my job to stop him – only to report back to headquarters,’ said Bill. ‘If it’s nothing that will harm our own country or its trade, they won’t do anything, but if he’s stirring up trouble somewhere – arming some group or other that will start a small war and plunge us all into danger once more, then we shall have something to say.’
‘And you found out nothing much last night?’ said Mrs Cunningham. ‘Well, maybe you’ll track down something at the next place – what was its name?’
‘A place called Ullabaid,’ said Bill. ‘The man I saw yesterday says that Uma has a small motor-boat himself, and uses this river quite a bit – so it’s clear that the places he goes to are somewhere on or near the river. Well – we’d better start. Go and see if Tala is ready, Jack. Tell him we’ll go slowly – it’s a lovely day, and we’re in no hurry!’
Jack hurried off to the other end of the boat.
‘Can you start again now, Tala?’ he called. ‘You can? Good! Off we go then!’
13
After tea
It was a lovely trip that day. The sun as usual shone all day long, and Tala kept near to the left bank on which tall trees grew, in order to have a little shade when possible. They passed many villages on the banks, and whenever the natives saw the boat gliding along, out they came and shouted and waved.
Oola was kept busy by Tala, and Philip saw little of him till the afternoon rest. The sun was so hot then that the boat was run in under the shade of trees, and moored. Everyone puffed and blew, and Bill ordered a general rest.
Then it was that Oola crept forward to where the boys lay in a shady corner, and curled up not far off, his eyes on Philip.
Philip saw him and grinned at him, and Oola was happy at once. ‘Boss,’ he whispered, ‘Oola is here to guard you. Sleep in peace!’
And, although everyone else on board, including Tala, slept soundly, Oola was awake, his eyes darting about at any sound, but always coming back to rest adoringly on Philip’s flushed face. Once he saw the wicked-looking head of the bargua snake peeping out of the boy’s shirt, and smiled proudly. Ah – his lord had his present safely. He even kept it close to his heart.
Tea was a very pleasant meal. Everyone felt refreshed after their sleep, and was ready for biscuits and something to drink. Mrs Cunningham was the only one who wanted a cup of tea – the others all demanded lime-juice.
Oola had disappeared as soon as he heard Tala calling for him in a fierce whisper. Tala was actually quite pleased with the small boy – but he was jealous of the way he went to sit near the children when he had a chance. Tala would not have dared to do that.
Oola had become extremely interested in the launch’s motor. Tala was already amazed at the way the boy grasped all the details. ‘Oola drive boat!’ said the boy, after tea. ‘Oola know how!’
‘Oh no you don’t,’ said Tala at once. ‘No monkey tricks from you, Oola, or I go straight to Big Mister Bill and say “Throw this boy overboard, he no good, Sir!” You hear, Oola?’
‘I hear, Little Master,’ said Oola at once, terrified that Tala might complain of him. ‘Oola clean up oil for you? Oola polish?’
Yes – Oola was welcome to do any of the dirty work, certainly. The only thing that Tala regretted about that was that the boy would become filthy dirty again – and Tala had taken great pride in getting him spotlessly clean that morning. He had rubbed far too hard, and the boy had cried out when his bruises had been roughly scrubbed.
‘Ah – no filth, now, no dirt!’ said Tala, when he had finished. ‘You had much dirt, Oola, very, very bad.’
Oola certainly looked better now – clean, his mass of black hair smoothed back, and a new, brilliant blue cloth round his middle, of which he was extremely proud.
They came to Ullabaid, a pleasant-looking village set a little back from the bank of the river. There was quite a fleet of small boats tied to the fairly big jetty.
‘I’m going ashore,’ said Bill. ‘Like to come with me? We’ll leave your mother in peace, I think. We’re a noisy lot, you know!’
The children leapt to the jetty with Bill and ran ashore, leaving Tala, Oola and Mrs Cunningham behind. Tala was annoyed, because he would have liked to stretch his legs ashore too, and because he could not go he would not let Oola go, either, and set him a long job to do. Oola scowled, determined to slip off as soon as Tala’s back was turned – or, as was most likely, the man fell asleep. He had the unusual gift of being able to sleep at any moment, and in any place, no matter how uncomfortable.
The village of Ullabaid was quite a big one. There were the usual low, whitewashed houses, with sleeping-roofs, and the usual hearths outside for cooking. There were also the crowds of almost-naked small village children, first half afraid and shy, then bold and curious.
Bill went to the biggest house in the place, which turned out to be a school. The teacher was friendly, with a fine face, intelligent and kind. He seemed surprised to see Bill, but when Bill showed him a card, and spoke a few words in a low tone, he asked him in at once.
The four were left to wander round. Kiki was quite silent for once in a way, staring round at the big-eyed children of the village.
A boy about twelve came up with a packet of postcards in his hands. He showed one to Jack, and pointed away in the distance, nodding his head vigorously, and saying something over and over again.
The four children crowded round to look at the card. It was a picture of a ruin – an old, old temple which had apparently been discovered and excavated some years before when a famous archaeologist had brought along a big digging-party.
‘The Temple of the Goddess Hannar,’ read Philip. ‘Looks interesting. Shall we go and see it while Bill is busy? Here, boy – how far is it? How – far?’
The boy could not speak any English, but he guessed what Philip was saying, and gestured that he would take them.
They followed the boy between the trees and then through some cultivated fields, and were themselves followed by a rabble of excited children, who could see that a tip would soon be forthcoming.
And behind the rabble came a small figure, keeping out of sight – Oola! He had waited till Tala had fallen asleep, and had left the launch immediately. He had asked where his friends had gone, and been told – and now he was keeping them in sight, not daring to join them.
The rabble of children began to push close to the four friends, and Jack looked round impatiently. ‘Keep back!’ he said. ‘Do you hear me? – keep back!’
But after a moment or two the little crowd was on their heels again – and this time Kiki took a hand.
‘Back!’ she ordered. ‘Back, back, quack, quack, BACK!’ And then she gave her famous imitation of an aeroplane about to crash, which alarmed the little crowd behind so much that they at once kept a very long distance away.
Philip laughed. ‘Good old Kiki!’ he said. ‘I don’t know what we’d do without you!’
They came to the temple at last. It was rather disappointing – much more of a ruin than the picture appeared to show. ‘It’s like one of those buildings in Cine-Town,’ said Lucy-Ann. ‘All front but not much at the back!’
‘Look here,’ said Philip suddenly. ‘See these funny little insects, basking in the sun – I think my snake would like those. He’s probably hungry by now.’
And, to Dinah’s horror, Philip slid the bargua snake from beneath his shirt, and let him loose on the ground, not far from the insects.
Dina screamed, of
course, and ran back. Her scream startled the local children – and when they saw the snake, which they all knew to be deadly poisonous, they too screamed in terror and fled.
‘Bargua!’ they shouted. ‘Bargua!’ The big ones dragged along the little ones, and even the big boy who was the guide fled too, after one look at the gliding snake.
‘Good gracious!’ said Philip, quite as startled as the other children. ‘They’ve all gone – just because I took my snake out for a meal. What a to-do!’
‘I don’t blame them,’ said Dinah, from a distance. ‘We know the snake’s safe – but they don’t! Honestly, Philip, that was a mad thing to do. Anyway, you’ll lose the snake now, thank goodness! It won’t come back to you now you’ve let it loose.’
‘Well, if it doesn’t, it can go,’ said Philip. ‘But I bet it’ll come back!’
The snake snapped at the insects, and had a very good meal. It also glided into some undergrowth and caught a small frog, which it swallowed whole. Then it came back to Philip! The others watched in amazement as it glided over to him, and, without any hesitation at all, wriggled up his leg, made its way between two buttons of his shirt and disappeared.
‘Ugh! It makes me feel sick,’ said Dinah, watching in fascinated horror.
‘Don’t watch then, silly,’ said Philip. Then he looked round, alarmed.
‘I say – I believe it’s going to get dark pretty soon -what’s the time? Whew, yes, we’ve let the time slip by without noticing it. We must get back to the launch at once. Come on.’
But after about ten minutes the children knew they had gone wrong. They stopped and looked round.
‘We didn’t pass that tree struck by lightning before, did we?’ said Jack doubtfully. ‘Anyone remember it?’
Nobody did. ‘Better go back a bit,’ said Philip, feeling anxious. ‘Buck up. Darkness may come at any moment and none of us has a torch.’
They went back for a hundred yards or so, and then took another path. But this one led them into a wood and they knew that was wrong. They went back again, all of them in rather a panic.
