by Enid Blyton
‘Come through then,’ said Philip, wondering who the man was.
The man squeezed through the hole and came over to the children. He had a very polite manner, and bowed gravely to them all.
‘May I sit with you?’
‘You may,’ said Philip, on his guard. ‘Why do you come?’
‘I come to tell you that my friend, Mr Raya Uma, is sad that he has frightened you,’ said the man. ‘He was – how do you say it? – startled – at your being here. He said things that he is sorry for.’
Nobody said a word. Jack and Philip were all ears. What was Mr Uma’s little game now?
‘His men have been to him to say that they will not work for him any more,’ went on the man, in his soft voice. ‘They are too afraid. That is bad news for him. He must get others. So he has sent me to say that you may go unmolested. He will see that you are set on the right road, and he will lend you his biggest car, so that you may go back to Chaldo in safety.’
‘Why Chaldo?’ asked Philip at once.
‘Because it is there that he has Mr Bill and his wife,’ said the soft-spoken man. ‘You will join them and can then do what you will. Is this agreeable to you?’
‘Who are you?’ asked Jack bluntly.
‘I am his friend,’ said the man. ‘But I am not so hasty as he. I said he was wrong to frighten you, you are but children. He listens to me, as you see. Now – will you accept his generous offer? He is sincerely sorry for his foolishness.’
‘Go and tell him we will think it over,’ said Jack. ‘We need to talk about it. We do not trust Mr Uma, your friend.’
‘That is sad,’ said the man, and he stood up. ‘I go to wait outside the wall, and you will come to tell me when you have talked together. We are agreed?’
The man suddenly saw the golden bowl beside Tala, and stared at it in surprise.
‘Where did you get that?’ he asked. ‘May I see it?’ He bent down to pick it up, but Tala snatched it away, standing up with it held high in his hands. Uma’s friend reached up for it, his white sleeves falling back over his bare arms. But Tala would not release his hold on the bowl. He said something rude in his own language, and the man looked as if he were about to strike him. But he recovered himself, bowed and walked off to the hole in the wall. He squeezed through it and stood waiting on the other side.
‘Well – what about it?’ said Philip.
Jack shook his head vehemently. ‘No, no, no! Didn’t you notice something when he reached up to get the bowl from Tala? He’s no friend of Mr Uma’s!’
‘Who is he then?’ said everyone, astonished.
‘He’s Mr Uma himself!’ said Jack. ‘Didn’t you see his right fore-arm when he reached up for that bowl? His sleeve fell back – and there, on his arm, was the white scar of an old wound – just like a curving snake!’
There was a dead silence. Then Philip whistled. ‘My word!’ he said. ‘The daring of it – coming to us like that – the cunning! It never once occurred to me that it was Mr Uma himself – dressed like the ordinary people – speaking the same kind of broken English. My, he’s a cunning fellow! No wonder all those photos of him looked as if they were of different men!’
‘Well!’ said Dinah, astounded. ‘Fancy having the nerve to come and talk to us like that! Trying to persuade us to walk right into a clever little trap. Good thing you saw that snake-like scar, Jack!’
‘Good thing Bill told us about it!’ said Jack. ‘Well – what do we do now? Go and tell him it’s no go, we know who he is?’
‘Yes,’ said Philip, getting up. ‘Come on, we’ll tell him now, Jack. You others stay here.’
The boys walked up the passage to the wall. Mr Uma, his hands folded inside his robes, waited impassively, looking for all the world like a distinguished man.
‘Mr Uma,’ said Philip boldly, ‘we say no to your little trap.’
‘What do you mean?’ said the man. ‘I am not Mr Uma! I am his friend. Do not be insolent, boy’
You are Mr Uma,’ said Philip. ‘We saw the snake-like scar on your right arm – your mark, Mr Uma, and a good one too – for your ways are surely as cunning as a snake’s!’
Mr Uma cast away his soft voice and polite manners. He screamed at them, both his fists in the air.
‘You bring it upon yourselves! I will teach you a lesson! You think you will walk out of here and up to the sun. You will not! You will not! I will block up this hole and you shall not come this way!’
‘We’ll go out the way we came then,’ said Jack boldly. ‘This is not the only way in.’
‘Ah, you cannot go out the way you came in!’ said Mr Uma. ‘If you could, you would have left by now. I am not so foolish as you think. You need a lesson, and you shall have it!’
He called loudly, leaning away from the stone. ‘Come here, men. Come! I have work for you to do!’
The children and Tala and Oola were now all beside the wall, listening. No men came in answer to Mr Uma’s call. He shouted again in a language the children could not follow, and this time two men came, very reluctantly.
‘Bring bricks! Block up this hole!’ commanded Uma. The men stared at him sullenly, looking fearfully in through the hole, remembering what their comrades had said when they had come back from the passage beyond.
Uma began to talk very fast to them, and the men listened with sudden interest.
‘What’s he saying, Tala?’ asked Jack.
‘He promise gold,’ said Tala. ‘He say they rich men if they obey. Much, much gold.’
The men looked at one another and nodded. They went off and came back with a pile of bricks. A third man brought mortar, and the blocking up of the hole began.
The little company inside were in despair. They knew that they could go back to the boat and find plenty of food, and could get fresh air outside the cavern – but for how long was Uma going to imprison them? They would have to give in sooner or later. They watched the gradual filling-in of the hole – and then Philip suddenly had an idea!
He put his hand inside his shirt and gently eased out the bargua snake he still cherished. He slide the bright green creature on to the edge of the small hole still left in the wall, and held it there.
‘Mr Uma!’ he called. ‘Mr Uma – are you there? Here is something for you!’
Uma came at once to the wall, and put his face near to the hole, shining his torch into it. He saw the writhing bargua snake at once. He gave a scream of real panic as the snake came gliding out. The three men outside saw it too, dropped their tools and fled, shouting in terror.
‘Bargua! Bargua!’
Nobody could see what happened next, for the other side of the hole was now in complete darkness. The children could hear nothing, after the cries had died away in the distance.
‘Tala break wall,’ said Tala suddenly. He took the little trowel he still had hanging round his neck and attacked the wall vigorously, Oola helping him with his bare hands. The mortar was still soft and it was not very difficult to force out the roughly-set bricks and make the hole as big as it was before.
‘Good, Tala – good, Oola!’ said Philip. ‘Now, out we all get as quickly as possible, while the bargua is still scaring everyone. Ready?’
They squeezed out one by one and found themselves in a very narrow passage, evidently quite newly excavated. They went along it and came to what looked like a shaft going straight up. Rough steps were cut in the side and a rope hung down as a handhold.
‘Well – up we go!’ said Philip, shining his torch upwards. ‘Good luck, everybody – this is our only chance of escape!’
28
Uma is in trouble
It was a long and difficult way up the deep shaft. Philip reached the top first, feeling quite worn out, for the footholds were none too good, and it was tiring work climbing, climbing, climbing, with only a thin rope to pull on.
He found himself still in darkness at the top, in a small narrow tunnel that sloped upwards. He stood at the top of the shaft to help Lucy-Ann out
and then went to see where the passage led. It led to another shaft, but a much shorter one, for Philip could see daylight at the top. His heart leapt. Daylight again! What a wonderful thing!
Soon all the others had arrived safely up the shaft, though Tala was complaining bitterly. ‘Tala slip,’ he said. ‘Tala hold rope, Tala burn hand, see!’
Poor Tala! He had slipped, and had slid down the rope so fast that he had scorched his hands on it. Philip handed him his handkerchief.
‘Here you are. Bind it round,’ he said. ‘There is no time to make a fuss. I wish I could see my bargua snake somewhere, but I can’t.’
‘You surely didn’t expect it to climb the shaft, Philip!’ said Dinah.
‘Snakes can wriggle anywhere,’ said Philip. ‘Come on! There’s another shaft to climb – then daylight!’
Everyone was delighted to hear that. They were soon climbing the next shaft, which was very much easier because it had a rope ladder hanging down the side. They were soon at the top.
‘It’s heaven to stand in the daylight again!’ said Lucy-Ann, blinking at the brightness around. ‘And doesn’t this sun feel good, Dinah! Oh, Philip – you’re surely not looking for the bargua up here. It couldn’t climb two shafts, poor thing!’
Dinah was secretly very glad indeed that the spotted bargua had gone, but she didn’t dare to say so, for it had been the cause of their sudden freedom. She stood looking round eagerly, delighting in the sunshine.
They were in a most desolate spot. ‘Like a builder’s yard in the middle of a dusty, sandy desert!’ she said, and they all agreed.
‘Where is everyone?’ wondered Jack. ‘Oh – there are the men over there. What are they doing – bending down over something.’
The men heard the voices and looked round. Then one of them came running at top speed, leaping over the mounds of dug-up earth. He signalled urgently to Philip and Jack, calling out something in his own language.
‘What does he say?’ asked Philip, turning to Oola and Tala, puzzled at the man’s urgency.
Oola laughed triumphantly. ‘He say bargua snake bite his master. He say master very frighted, will die, because bargua poison-snake. He say Mr Uma want to speak with you.’
The children looked at each other, and smiled small, secret smiles. They knew that the bargua snake had no poison, but it had bitten Mr Uma and now he thought he was certain to die – unless he was taken to a doctor at once and treated for snake-bite!
‘Could your bargua bite?’ asked Dinah, in a low voice. ‘Even though it has no poison?’
Philip nodded. ‘Oh yes – but its bite is now harmless. Well – this is rather funny. Let’s go and talk to Mr Uma. He’s evidently feeling very sorry for himself’
They went over to where he was lying on the ground, so frightened that his brown face was almost white. He was holding his right arm and groaning.
‘That snake – it bit me,’ he said to Philip. ‘You’ll have caused my death unless you help to take me to Cine-Town at once. There are good doctors there – they may save me.’
‘Your man Jallie told us that you had taken Bill and my mother to Wooti,’ said Philip sternly. ‘Answer me. Is that so? Are they there?’
‘Yes. And the motor-launch too,’ said Mr Uma feebly. ‘We will go there at once. Mr Bill can take me in his launch to Cine-Town, away up the river – he shall find me a doctor. Help me, boy. I may not have long to live. Have mercy – it was your snake that bit me!’
Philip turned away, scorning this man who now cried for mercy and for help, although a short while back he had given orders to his men to brick them into the underground passage. He spoke to Tala.
‘Please arrange this, Tala. There is a lorry over there, and a van. Tell the men to put Mr Uma into the van, and we will come in the lorry. Mr Uma will know the way. You drive the lorry, Tala, then if there is any trickery you can put your foot down hard and race us to safety.’
But there was no trickery this time. Mr Uma was in such a panic over the snake-bite that all he wanted to do was to get to Wooti and beg Bill to take him to Cine-Town as soon as possible.
They set off, the van leading the way and Tala following after in the lorry. Both were exceedingly well-sprung, strong vehicles, and this was just as well, for there was no real road to speak of. The lorry and van jerked and jolted over hills and mounds, and poor Mr Uma, lying in the van, cried out in misery as he rolled from side to side. He was not really ill, but he was so certain that his whole body was being poisoned by the snake-bite that he was sure he had aches and pains all over!
It was a long way to Wooti, but they got there at last. Mr Uma gave his driver a few directions when they arrived, and both lorry and van stopped outside a shack set by itself beside a desolate cart-track.
The driver got down and took some keys from Mr Uma. He unlocked the door of the shack and out came Bill at once, looking more furious than the children had ever seen him look before.
‘Now then!’ shouted Bill. ‘Where’s that fellow Uma?’
The van-driver gesticulated and said a good deal. Evidently he was telling Bill about the snake-bite. Bill, however, was not at all sympathetic. Jack and Philip judged it time to say a few words themselves and they leapt out and ran over to Bill.
He stared at them as if he were dreaming. ‘Jack! Philip! What on earth – good heavens, what is all this? Explain quickly, Philip.’
Philip explained a little, enough to make Bill understand what was happening at the moment.
‘Uma’s back in the van,’ he said. ‘He thinks he’s been bitten by a poisonous snake - but he hasn’t really, it was only my own bargua – and you know how harmless that was! He’s so anxious to get to a doctor at Cine-Town up the river that he agreed to take us here and free you, so that you could take him in your launch to find a doctor. That’s briefly what’s happening now, Bill.’
‘Well, I’m blessed,’ said Bill again. ‘So our friend Uma thinks he’s been fatally bitten, does he? Then perhaps he would like to confess a few things and clear his conscience! Right – find out where the launch is, boys, tell Uma I’m coming, and I’ll just go and fetch my wife.’
Bill ran off to the shack, and Philip, anxious to see his mother, went with him. Jack went to tell Uma that Bill was coming, and to ask where the launch was.
Uma was still very pale. He groaned. ‘Good boy,’ he said. ‘Ah, this is a punishment for all my sins. I have been a wicked man, boy’
‘It sounds like it,’ agreed Jack hard-heartedly. ‘Bill wants to know where the launch is.’
‘By the riverside,’ groaned Mr Uma. ‘The poison’s working in my veins, I know it is! We shall have to hurry!’
Bill came out with his wife, who certainly looked none the worse for being locked up in the shack for a few days. She seemed quite cheerful, and had been told a little of the children’s adventures by Philip. She and Bill had had no idea, of course, that the children had been through so much excitement.
They drove off to the river. Bill went in the van with Uma, who poured out such a lot of confessions that Bill was almost embarrassed. The things that Mr Uma had done in his life! His sins had certainly been very many.
The launch was by the river as Uma had said. By the time they reached it Mrs Cunningham had heard more of the children’s news from everyone in the lorry, and had been greeted joyfully by Kiki, who insisted on shaking hands with her at least a dozen times.
‘Pleasedtomeetyou,’ said Kiki, running all the words together. ‘Pleasedtomeetyou, good morning, goodbye!’
‘Oh, Kiki – it’s so nice to see you all again,’ said Mrs Cunningham. ‘We imagined that Tala would look after you, and that he would raise the alarm and bring help to us as soon as possible. I never realized you had been through a bad time like this! Poor Mr Uma – he must be in a terrible panic over this snake-bite.’
‘Don’t say “poorMr Uma”, Mother!’ said Dinah. ‘He’s wicked. You wait till you hear all our story. It’s hair-raising, really it is!’
The lorry and the van were left at Wooti, and the launch took everyone to Cine-Town, with Mr Uma tossing and groaning all the time. It seemed remarkable that he could simulate all the symptoms of snake-bite like this, and Bill half wondered if Philip’s bargua had been as harmless as they had imagined!
He frowned as he thought of all the things that the scared Mr Uma had blurted out to him – and this latest plan to rob the old, forgotten temple of its priceless treasures for the sake of mere greed sickened Bill. Mr Uma was not, of course, being taken to see a doctor – no, he was being taken to see some very high-up police!
It was a really terrible shock to Mr Uma to be handed over to the police at Cine-Town, when they arrived there. Bill had ordered two cars as soon as the launch had reached Cine-Town, and he and his wife and Uma had gone in the first one, and the other six, with Kiki, in the second – and they had all driven to police headquarters. Mr Uma could hardly believe his eyes when he was half led, half carried into a bare police-station, instead of into the pleasant private room of a hospital that he had expected.
‘What’s this?’ he cried. ‘Is this a kind trick to play on a man dying of snake-bite – a poisonous snake-bite?’
‘You’re quite all right, Uma,’ said Bill with a laugh. ‘It wasn’t a poisonous bite – the snake had unfortunately had its poison-ducts cut, and was no longer poisonous. So cheer up – you’re not going to die – but you’ve got a tremendous lot of things to explain to the police, haven’t you?’
29
End of the adventure
It wasn’t only Uma who had to explain a great many things – it was the children too, who had so much to tell Bill and his wife that they felt it would take a week to finish their tale!
After Uma had been taken charge of by some much-amused police officers, who had heard the whole story from Bill and the others, they had been allowed to depart for the launch.
‘The police seem to find it very funny that Uma is so disappointed not to have had a poisonous bite after all,’ said Bill, as they left. ‘Of course – it is bad luck when one’s sins find one out – but they always have a nasty little habit of doing that. Crime simply does NOT pay!’
