The River of Adventure

by Enid Blyton

  Oola disappeared, and Bill went under the mosquito-net to the others. Uma’s motor-boat had now been started up, and had gone down the river, disturbing all the stars reflected in the water.

  ‘Well?’ said Bill to his wife. ‘What do you think of our friend Uma?’

  ‘I don’t trust him a scrap,’ said Mrs Cunningham. ‘He’s, he’s . . .’

  ‘Slimy,’ said Dinah, and everyone nodded. It was just the right word.

  ‘What do you suppose he is up to?’ said Bill. ‘Anything?’

  Mrs Cunningham considered. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I think he’s got a bad reputation and knows it, and he’s nervous in case anyone should think he’s up to anything and spy on him. I think he’s probably hard-up, and making a bit of money in Cine-Town somewhere. He was so insistent on his love for old buildings that I feel his real interest must be in something else.’

  ‘You mean he may be using this archaeology hobby of his to camouflage the business he’s doing in Cine-Town?’ asked Bill.

  ‘Yes,’ said Mrs Cunningham.

  ‘Well, I bet whatever he’s doing in Cine-Town is something underhand,’ said Jack. ‘Probably backing a shady little fair or something – or a string of shops – and having an interest in the film too. Plenty of irons in the fire.’

  ‘Well, if that’s the kind of thing he’s doing, it’s pretty harmless from my point of view,’ said Bill. ‘I am after bigger stuff than that – the kind of things I told you he had done before! If it’s no more than messing about in Cine-Town, well, he’s of no interest to the High-Ups!’

  ‘Good,’ said Mrs Cunningham, heaving a sigh of relief. ‘I don’t want you mixed up in anything dangerous, Bill – and I somehow think that Raya Uma could be very dangerous and very ruthless.’

  ‘You’re quite right, my dear!’ said Bill. ‘Now, what about bed? I’ll just go and stand by the rail. The stars are out beautifully now, and I shall enjoy a quiet ten minutes looking down the river.’

  They all said good night. They were tired, and fell asleep immediately their heads were on the pillows. Bill stood silently gazing out, thinking of the strange Mr Uma. Then he saw a small figure creeping over the deck and settling down at the foot of Philip’s mattress. Oola had come to guard his boss!

  Oola sat up in fright when Bill came over, on his way to his own mattress.

  ‘You may stay, Oola,’ said Bill softly, and Oola sank down again happily. His lord was asleep – and he, Oola, was guarding him!

  16

  Next day

  Next day Tala took the boat farther on down the river. They went very slowly, for Chaldo was only half a day’s run, and they did not want to get there too soon. They passed some desolate country on the way, almost desert-like.

  ‘Some of Mr Uma’s beloved excavations must have been going on here!’ said Jack. ‘Bill, it certainly must cost an awful lot of money to dig over this enormous expanse – look!’

  ‘It does,’ said Bill. ‘But there are rewards, you know. It’s not only old ruined cities that are found lying beneath the mud and dust of centuries, it’s treasure too.’

  ‘Treasure!’ said Philip, surprised. ‘What treasure?’

  ‘Well, much of this country held age-old buildings that housed the tombs of rich kings,’ said Bill. ‘Don’t ask me their names, I’ve forgotten them.’

  ‘Nebuchadnezzar?’ suggested Lucy-Ann.

  Bill laughed. ‘You certainly know your Bible, Lucy-Ann. Yes – probably even Nebuchadnezzar might have lived in a palace not many miles from here, or the great King Sargon! I really don’t know. Anyway, when they died, they were buried in magnificent tombs, surrounded by their jewels and their other treasures, such as jewelled shields, wonderful swords, and so on.’

  ‘My word!’ said Jack, thrilled. ‘And do you mean to say that things like that have been dug up – things thousands of years old?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ said Bill. ‘They are in museums all over the world – bought gladly because of their historic value. They are valuable in themselves too, of course. I have seen one beautifully carved gold bowl, with bulls all the way round it, that must have been worth thousands of pounds. It was set with wonderful precious stones.’

  ‘Well, then,’ said Jack, ‘I’m not so sure that Mr Uma’s hobby isn’t just the right one for him. Picking up priceless treasures for nothing!’

  ‘That’s where you’re wrong,’ said Bill. ‘They can’t be picked up for nothing – as I told you, a digging outfit, composed perhaps of fifty or so workmen, and a good sprinkling of white experts, may cost thousands of pounds. And we should certainly know if Mr Uma had an outfit like that!’

  ‘Yes – I suppose you would,’ said Jack. ‘I mean – you can’t help seeing wholesale excavations going on, can you? It would be in the papers too, of course.’

  ‘Look – there are some ruins, over there!’ cried Lucy-Ann, pointing to the opposite bank. ‘They look fairly recent. Would Tala know about them, do you think?’

  ‘Go and ask him, if you like,’ said Bill. ‘I don’t expect he can tell you much.’

  The children went off to ask Tala. He nodded his head. ‘Tala know. Tala’s father, he dig there. Dig for treasure, much, much treasure. But no find any. All gone.’

  That seemed to be all Tala knew. The children went back to Bill and repeated what Tala had told them. He nodded.

  ‘Yes – he meant that whatever expert was in charge of the digging probably had a plan showing that royal tombs were to be found at a certain depth below – tombs possibly with much treasure. But when they got down to them, the graves were probably already despoiled and robbed.’

  ‘But who did that?’ said Lucy-Ann.

  ‘Maybe robbers three or four thousand years ago,’ said Bill, and smiled at Lucy-Ann’s surprised face. ‘I told you that this is an old, old land, that goes back thousands of years. Under the dust archaeologists may find ruins of city upon city, one built above the other.’

  This was almost impossible for Lucy-Ann to grasp – city upon city! She tried to send her mind back through the centuries and to imagine the years passing over the land on which she was now gazing – cities rising, falling into ruin, other cities rising on the ruins and themselves falling into dust, only to have yet more towns built upon them.

  She gave a little shiver. ‘I don’t much like thinking about it,’ she said. ‘Let’s talk about something else, Bill.’

  Bill gave her a hug. ‘Well – what about lime-juice?’ he said. ‘Shall we talk about that, Lucy-Ann? It seems a very suitable subject for this hot day.’

  ‘Oh, Bill – what you mean is that you want me to fetch you some,’ said Lucy-Ann, who knew Bill’s little ways very well. ‘Jack – Philip – do you want some lime-juice?’

  ‘Juice!’ echoed Kiki. ‘Juicy, juicy, juicy! Juicy Lucy! Send for the juice! Blow the juice!’

  Philip was giving his snake an airing, and it was slithering round and about his feet. Lucy-Ann did not mind it, but Dinah did, so the boys usually chose a moment when Dinah was down below, doing something there.

  ‘Isn’t it a lovely creature?’ said Philip, admiring the bright green of its skin, and the brilliant markings, or ‘spottings’ as the hotel manager had called them. ‘It’s a shame it’s had its poison-ducts cut, isn’t it, Jack?’

  ‘Well, personally, at the moment, I’m glad it can’t give me a poisonous bite,’ said Jack.

  The lime-juice arrived, Oola carrying the tray proudly. He was pleased to see the snake gliding round – his present to his lord! Dinah stopped dead when she saw it, and Philip picked it up at once.

  The day went pleasantly enough, especially as, for the first time, they came to a little cove where the water was clean and clear enough to bathe.

  ‘You come in too, Oola,’ said Jack. ‘Do you good!’

  But nothing would persuade the small boy to get into the tepid water. He touched it with his toe, yelped loudly and drew it back as if something had bitten him. He gazed in wonder and admiration as all
four children swam and dived and kicked about underwater. He had been deputed to hold the bargua while Philip bathed, and he was very proud to hang it round his neck and keep it there.

  Kiki was not very pleased with the way in which everyone deserted her for the pool. She flew to an overhanging branch and screamed at them.

  Philip splashed her. ‘Stop that row, Kiki! You sound as if you’re being killed!’

  Kiki flew high in the air, angry at being splashed. She flew down to the deck and waddled up to Oola for sympathy. But when she saw the snake hanging round his neck she backed away, hissing exactly like a snake herself. Mrs Cunningham smiled to see her, and made her come to her shoulder.

  ‘Poor Polly,’ said Kiki, into her ear. ‘Poor, poor Polly. Jolly Polly, jolly Polly.’

  ‘Well, which are you, poor or jolly?’ said Mrs Cunningham, laughing. ‘Now don’t sulk, the others will soon be out of the water!’

  ‘I wish we hadn’t got to go out to dinner tonight,’ said Bill, a little later. ‘It’s a nuisance, Allie. I wish I hadn’t said we would. I do so enjoy the quiet evenings on the boat.’

  ‘So do I,’ said his wife. ‘Never mind – we don’t need to stay long – and we might learn something; you never know!’

  The boat glided on down to Chaldo and arrived about half-past six. Bill and his wife got ready and waited for Mr Uma to fetch them. ‘You children have your supper,’ said Mrs Cunningham, ‘and then read and go to bed as usual. We shan’t be late. Tala will look after you.’

  ‘Here comes Mr Uma,’ said Jack, spotting someone coming along in the dark, with a lantern. ‘Goodbye – and keep your eyes and ears open! Mr Uma may not be as innocent as he seems.’

  Mr Uma called up to the launch.

  ‘Good evening! If you are ready I will guide you to my house. It is not very far. I am wondering if the four children would like to watch a dance in the next little village. There has been a wedding there, and the dancing is amusing to watch. My man here can take them.’

  ‘Oh yes – do let us!’ cried Lucy-Ann, and the others joined in.

  ‘No, I don’t think I want them to go,’ said Bill firmly. ‘I’d rather they stayed on the boat.’

  ‘Oh, blow!’ said Jack. ‘Be a sport, Bill. We’ll be all right, and we won’t do anything silly, I promise you.’

  ‘I think not,’ said Bill. ‘I’d rather you didn’t go. Village wedding dances are not always safe to watch – your presence might be resented!’

  There was no more to be said, but the four children were very disappointed. They called a subdued goodbye, and watched the lantern held by Uma’s servant bobbing away through the trees.

  ‘I wish we could have gone,’ said Dinah. ‘What harm could we come to, with Uma’s man beside us? Blow!’

  ‘Oh, well – it’s no good thinking about it,’ said Jack. ‘I wonder what’s for supper?’

  Tala produced a fine meal, and when they were in the middle of it, the children heard him talking to a man who had come to the side of the launch.

  ‘Who is it, Tala?’ called Philip at once.

  ‘It is Jallie, Mr Uma’s servant,’ said Tala. ‘He say Master send him tell you go watch dancing. He say he change mind, you go.’

  ‘Oh, good, good, good!’ cried Dinah, delighted, and the others exclaimed in pleasure too. They finished their supper hurriedly, and called out to Tala.

  ‘Tell the man we’re ready. We’re just getting our cardigans. It’s a bit chilly tonight.’

  ‘Oola go too?’ said a small voice. But Tala overheard and called him roughly.

  ‘No! You have work to do. Mister Bill send word you not go. You stay with Tala.’

  Oola was bitterly disappointed. He made up his mind to do his work quickly and then go to meet the others. He would soon find out where that village was.

  ‘Goodbye!’ called Lucy-Ann to the disappointed boy. ‘We won’t be long. Look after the boat, Oola.’

  Oola stood looking after them in the darkness. A curious dread had come over his heart. Something was going to happen – something bad, bad, bad! Oola knew!

  17

  Extraordinary happenings

  It seemed quite a long way to the village. The children stumbled along, and suddenly, for no real reason, Jack felt uneasy.

  ‘How far is the village now?’ he asked Jallie, the man with the lantern.

  ‘It quite near,’ answered the man, in a surly tone.

  Ten minutes later there was still no sign of the village, and Jack spoke to Philip in a whisper.

  ‘Philip, I don’t like this. I don’t feel easy in my mind. Ask him about the village again.’

  ‘What about this village?’ demanded Philip, tapping the man on the arm.

  ‘It quite near,’ answered Jallie again.

  Philip stopped. He too now had a very uneasy feeling. He began to wonder if the message about going to the village dance was genuine. Suppose it was a way to get them off the boat – so that Uma could send someone to search it? It wasn’t really at all like Bill to change his mind about a thing – especially when he had been so determined that they were not to go.

  ‘Come!’ said the man, and held the lantern high to see why they had stopped.

  ‘Lucy-Ann – pretend you feel ill – cry, and say you want to go back!’ whispered Jack. Lucy-Ann obeyed at once.

  ‘J-J-Jack!’ she cried, pretending to weep. ‘I don’t feel w-w-well. Take me b-b-back! Oooooooh!’

  ‘Oooooooh!’ said Kiki, in sympathy.

  ‘Oh, poor Lucy-Ann!’ said all the other three, and began to pat her on the back. ‘Yes, you shall go back.’

  Jack went to Jallie. ‘My sister must go back to the boat,’ he said. ‘She isn’t well, as you can see. We must return at once.’

  ‘No,’ said the man. ‘Come.’

  ‘Don’t be silly!’ said Jack angrily. ‘You heard what I said. Lead us back.’

  ‘No,’ said the man. ‘I have orders. Come.’

  ‘Look here – what’s all this?’ said Philip, joining in. ‘There’s something queer here. I don’t believe you’re going to take us to any wedding dance! Anyway, my orders are that we go back. Understand?’

  Jallie glared at them. It was obvious that he did not quite know what to do. He could not make four children come with him by main force. On the other hand he certainly did not mean to take them to the launch.

  The children glared back, Lucy-Ann giving sobs that were now becoming real, for she felt frightened.

  ‘You will take us back,’ said Philip slowly. ‘See – I have someone here who will make you take us back!’

  He slipped his hand under his cardigan and shirt, and pulled gently at the snake coiled there, fast asleep. The gentle pressure awoke the sleepy creature and it wriggled in pleasure at feeling Philip’s hand on it.

  The boy slid out the snake, and the man saw it suddenly in the light of the lantern. He stared at it as if he could not believe his eyes.

  ‘Bargua,’ he gasped, backing away. ‘Bargua!’

  ‘Yes, bargua! My bargua! He does what I say,’ said Philip. ‘Shall I tell him to bite you?’

  The man fell on his knees, trembling, as Philip held the writhing snake between his hands. He pointed it at Jallie, and the snake darted its forked tongue in and out.

  ‘Sir, I take you back,’ said the man, in a shaking voice. ‘Mercy, sir. Put your snake away.’

  ‘No,’ said Philip. ‘I hold him near you, see, like this!’ And he thrust the snake nearer to the man, who at once fell over backwards in utter fear.

  ‘I send my snake after you if you leave us and run,’ went on Philip, quite determined that he and the others were not going to be left in an unknown place in the darkness of the night.

  ‘Sir, I take you,’ whimpered the man.

  ‘Well, get up and go then,’ said Philip, cradling the snake against him. It ran its forked tongue caressingly over the boy’s wrist. The man shuddered – and for the thousandth time Lucy-Ann admired Philip, and the way he
could tame all creatures and make them love him.

  The man picked up the lantern and set off, his legs trembling as he walked along, thinking of the snake behind him, that very poisonous snake. What manner of boy was this that could harbour deadly snakes in his bosom?

  He went along, taking the same path as he had gone before, though the children could not know this for certain, and just hoped for the best. The two boys were extremely worried.

  ‘If Uma sent this fellow to take us goodness knows where, with orders to leave us stranded somewhere, whatever is he doing to Bill and Mother?’ thought Philip desperately.

  On and on they went, and at last through the trees came the welcome glint of silver water – the river.

  ‘The River of Adventure!’ thought Jack suddenly. ‘My word – it’s living up to its name.’

  Jallie pointed with a trembling hand to the river. ‘I bring you back,’ he said. ‘I go now, please.’

  ‘Yes. Go,’ said Philip, and thankfully the man fled with his lantern, stumbling in haste.

  Someone came from the trees and flung himself down by Philip. It was Oola!

  He moaned as he laid his head against Philip’s knees. ‘Bad men come,’ he said. ‘Bad men. What I do, what I do?’

  In alarm Philip jerked him to his feet. ‘Oola! Tell me quick – what’s happened?’

  Oola pulled them through the trees to the jetty. He pointed through the starlit night, and the others looked in astonishment and fear.

  The launch was gone!

  ‘Oola – what’s happened?’ asked Philip, shaking him.

  ‘Bad men come. Bad men put Big Mister Bill and Missus on launch. Bad men get Tala and tie him up, and throw him on ground. Bad men take launch away, away, down river!’ said Oola, sounding as if he were going to burst into tears.

  ‘Whew!’ said Jack, and flopped down on the grass, quite knocked out by all this news. The rest sat down too.

  ‘How do you know all this, Oola?’ said Jack, at last. ‘Why didn’t they tie you up too?’

  ‘Oola just going after his boss,’ said Oola. ‘Oola creep away from boat – and then see bad men. Bad men no see Oola. Oola watch. Oola hide.’