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The Island of Adventure

Page 17

by Enid Blyton


  He gave a determined grin. Kiki listened to his words with her head on one side.

  ‘Put the kettle on,’ she said sympathetically. That made Jack give a really good grin.

  ‘You are an idiot,’ he said affectionately. ‘Now, the thing is – where do we go next? I feel as if I am probably wandering in the same passage over and over again. But wait a minute – the shafts are all on the island itself – so I must have retraced my steps somehow, because we were all under the sea-bed at one time. As far as I remember, those shafts all connected up with one more or less straight tunnel. I’ll go down here – and see if by any chance I come to the main shaft. If I do, I can go up it.’

  Jack stumbled on, and came to a blocked-up part, impossible to get by. So he had to go back a good way and start out again, only to come to another roof-fall. It was very disheartening. Kiki became tired of this long journey in the dark passages, and gave a realistic yawn.

  ‘Put your hand before your mouth,’ she told herself severely. ‘How many times have I told you to shut the door? God save the Queen.’

  ‘Well, your yawn made me yawn too,’ said Jack, and he sat down. ‘What about a rest, Kiki? I’m getting terribly tired.’

  He leaned back against the rocky wall and shut his eyes. He fell into a doze, which lasted an hour or two. When he awoke he hardly knew where he was, and felt frightened when he remembered. He got to his feet, with Kiki still firmly on his shoulder.

  ‘Now, it’s no good getting into a panic,’ he told himself sternly. ‘Just go on walking, and sooner or later you will get somewhere.’

  It was whilst he was stumbling through the many passages that Kiki heard the noise of the men chasing the children, and shouted loudly. But Jack heard nothing, and turned off into a winding passage just before the men came up. He did not know that he was near to the wide shaft-hole – but presently he came to the big main passage, and stopped.

  ‘Can this be the wide passage we saw on the map?’ he thought. ‘It may be. If only I had a brighter torch! I hope to goodness it’s not going to fade out. It doesn’t seem so bright as it was.’

  He went down the passage, and saw some rough-hewn steps in the rock, leading upwards. Out of curiosity the boy climbed them, and came to another passage, which evidently led to yet another working. He stumbled and fell against the wall, dislodging a stone or small rock, which fell down with a crash. Jack held up his torch to see where it had fallen from, afraid that the roof was caving in.

  But it wasn’t. His torch gleamed on to something that shone coppery-red – a large, irregular kind of stone, thought Jack. And then he suddenly realised that it wasn’t a stone – it was – yes, it must be – a large copper nugget! Golly, what a beauty! Could he possibly carry it?

  With trembling hands the boy prised the nugget carefully away from its place. It was on a kind of shelf made by a crack in the rock just there. Had someone hidden it there, years ago? Or had it been placed there by one of the men working the mines now? Or was it there naturally, a real nugget in the depths of the earth? Jack didn’t know.

  It was heavy, but he could carry it. A nugget of copper! The boy kept repeating the words to himself. Almost as good as finding a Great Auk – not quite as thrilling of course, but almost. What would the others say?

  Jack thought he had better keep out of the way of the miners more than ever now. They might take the nugget from him. It might legally be theirs, of course, but he did want to have the thrill of showing it to the others as his find before he gave it up to anyone.

  The boy went back to the main passage with the nugget in his hands. He had to put his torch into his belt now, as he could not carry it as well as the copper, and it was difficult to make his way along, because the torch shone almost directly downwards instead of forwards.

  ‘Hallo!’ said Jack, stopping suddenly as he heard a noise in the distance. ‘I rather think I’m coming towards that clattering noise we heard before – where the men are working. Perhaps I’m near the other children too.’

  The boy crept forward. He went into a passage that turned suddenly round a corner – and there before him was the brilliantly lighted cave again. Last time he had seen it, it had been empty – this time there were men there. They were undoing the boxes and crates that the children had seen there before. Jack watched, wondering what was in them.

  ‘I’m in the same passage as I was when Kiki flew off and I went after her,’ thought Jack. ‘I do wonder what has happened to the others. Golly, but it’s good to see a bright light again. If I crouch here, behind this jutting rock, I don’t believe anyone will see me.’

  Kiki was absolutely quiet. The brilliant light frightened her after being so long in the darkness. She crouched on the boy’s shoulder, watching.

  There were tins in the boxes and crates – tins of meat and fruit. Jack felt very hungry when he saw them, for he had had nothing to eat for a long time. The men opened a few of the tins, poured the contents out on to tin plates, and began to eat, talking to each other. Jack could not hear what they were saying. He felt so hungry that he almost walked out to the men to beg for some of their food.

  But they didn’t look very nice men. They wore trousers only, belted at the waist, and nothing else. It was so hot in the mines that it was impossible to wear many clothes. Jack wished he could wear only shorts, but he knew he would not like Kiki’s claws on his bare shoulder.

  The men finished their meal, and then went down a passage or gallery at the further end of the cave they were in. There was no one there now. The clattering, banging noise began again. Evidently the men were at work once more.

  Jack crept into the brilliantly lighted cave. The light came from these three lamps hung from the roof. Jack looked into the opened tins. There was a little meat left in one and some pineapple chunks in another. He finished them up quickly. He thought that never in his life had he tasted anything so delicious as the food in those tins.

  He decided to creep over to the passage down which the men had gone back to work. It would be exciting to see how men worked in a copper mine. Did they use pickaxes? Did they blast out the copper? What were they doing to make all that noise? It really sounded as if it came from some big machine busily at work.

  He crept down the passage, and then found that he was looking into another cave. He was most astonished at what he saw. There were about a dozen men there, busy with a number of machines that clattered and banged, making quite a deafening noise that echoed round the cave.

  There was an engine of some sort which added to the din. ‘What strange machinery!’ thought Jack, staring. ‘How ever in the world did they get it all down here into the mines? They must have brought it down in pieces, and then put them together here. Golly, how busy it all is, and what a noise it makes!’

  Jack watched in wonder. Were they extracting copper by means of this machine? He knew vaguely that many metals had to be roasted or smelted or worked in some way before they were pure. He supposed they were doing that. It was plain, then, that the copper in these mines was not usually found in big nuggets, such as the one Jack was even now holding.

  One of the men wiped his forehead and came from the machine towards Jack’s hiding-place. The boy darted away, and went into a small blind passage to wait till the man had passed. He came back carrying a mug of water. Jack waited in the little blind passage for a minute or two, leaning against what he thought was the wall. But suddenly the ‘wall’ gave way a little, and the boy slipped backwards. Then, putting his torch on, he found that it was no wall but a strong wooden door, leading into a cell-like place – rather like the one in which the other children had been imprisoned.

  Hearing footsteps, he hurriedly went into the cell and pushed the door shut. The footsteps went by. Jack switched on his torch again to see what was in the cave.

  It was stacked with bundles upon bundles of crisp papers, the same size put together and the same colours, tightly fastened together. Jack looked at them – and then he looked again, blink
ing his eyes in amazement.

  In that cell-like cave were thousands of bundles of paper money. There were bundles of five-pound notes, bundles of ten-pound notes – there they were, neatly stacked together, a fortune great enough to make anyone a millionaire in a night.

  ‘Now I really must be dreaming,’ thought Jack, rubbing his eyes. ‘There’s no doubt about it. I’m in a very extraordinary dream. In a minute I shall wake up and laugh. People simply don’t find things like this – treasure in a cave underground. Why, I might be in the middle of some wonderful fairy story. It’s quite impossible – I’d better wake up immediately.’

  26

  A bad time – and a surprising meeting

  But Jack didn’t wake up – and for a very good reason too. He wasn’t asleep.

  He was wide awake and staring at this colossal fortune in paper money. It didn’t make sense. Why was it all stored here, in this cave underground? Who did it belong to? Why didn’t they put it into a bank in the usual way?

  ‘Perhaps the men working this mine are finding a lot of copper and selling it secretly, and keeping the money here that they get for it,’ thought Jack. He was so lost in amazement at the sight of such a fortune piled up there in front of him that he did not hear someone coming to the door of the cave he was in.

  The man who opened the door and saw Jack in the cave was even more surprised than Jack himself. He stood staring at the boy with his mouth wide open, and his eyes almost falling out of his head. Then he dragged the boy roughly out of the cell, and pulled him to the room where the machine was working.

  ‘Look here!’ yelled the man. ‘Look here! I found him in the store room.’

  The machine was stopped at once. The men gathered round Jack and his captor. One of them stepped forward. It was Jake.

  He looked very evil and the black patch he wore over one eye made him look most peculiar. He shook Jack so roughly that the boy lost his breath completely and sank down on the ground when Jake let go of his arm.

  ‘Where are the rest of you?’ said Jake. ‘You tell me, see! Who are you with? What are you doing down here? What do you know?’

  Jack picked up his nugget, looked round for Kiki, who had flown in fright to the roof of the cave, and tried to think what to answer for the best. The men took no notice of his big copper nugget, which surprised Jack very much. He had been afraid they would take it away from him at once.

  ‘I don’t know where the others are,’ he said at last. ‘We came to the island together, two boys and two girls, and I got separated from the others.’

  ‘Who else was with you?’ demanded Jake. ‘You kids didn’t come here by yourselves.’

  ‘We did,’ insisted Jack. ‘I say – who does all that money in there belong to?’

  The listening men made some low, threatening noises, and Jack gazed round uneasily. Jake’s face grew black. He looked round at the men.

  ‘Something’s up,’ he said, and the men nodded. He turned again to Jack. ‘Now look here,’ he said, ‘you know a lot more than you’ve told us – you’ve picked up something from the others, haven’t you? – well, you just tell us all you know, or you may never see daylight again. See? Is that clear?’

  It was horribly clear. Jack began to tremble. Kiki gave a screech that made everyone jump.

  ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ said Jack desperately. ‘All we knew was that someone was working these copper mines again, getting copper, and that Bill Smugs was taking food here in his boat. That’s honestly all I know.’

  ‘Bill Smugs,’ repeated Jake. ‘That’s what the other kids said. Who is this Bill Smugs?’

  Jack was puzzled. ‘Isn’t that his real name?’ he said.

  ‘What’s his real name?’ suddenly said Jake, so threateningly that Jack dropped his precious nugget in a panic, thinking the man was going to strike him. It fell on the edge of Jake’s foot and the man picked it up and had a look at it.

  ‘What’s this stone you’re carrying about?’ he said, in curiosity. ‘Are you kids mad? A parrot – and a heavy stone – Bill Smugs – copper mines. You’re all crazy.’

  ‘I think this kid knows more than he’s said,’ said Oily, stepping beside Jake. ‘What about locking him up without any food for a day or so? That will make him talk. Or what about a good beating?’

  Jack went pale, but he did not show that he was afraid. ‘I don’t know any more than I’ve already told you,’ he said. ‘What is there to know, anyway? What’s the mystery?’

  ‘Take him away,’ said Jake roughly. ‘He’ll talk when he’s half-starved.’

  Olly took the boy by the shoulder and led him roughly from the cave, prodding him unkindly as he did so. He led him to the same cell-like cave in which the other children had been imprisoned. Just as he was pushing the boy in, Kiki flew down and hacked viciously at the man’s face with her curved beak. Olly put up his hands to protect himself, and dropped his torch. It went out.

  Jack slipped swiftly to the side and crouched outside the cell in silence. Kiki did not know where he was. She flew into the cell and perched on the table there, in complete darkness.

  ‘Now then, now then, what a pity!’ she said loudly. The cell door banged. Olly had shut it on the parrot, thinking that it was Jack talking inside there. He had not even known that the bird could talk.

  He turned the key in the lock. Kiki was still talking away softly, though neither Jack nor Olly could hear the words. As Olly was turning away, Jake came up.

  ‘Did you put him in?’ he asked, and flashed his torch on to the shut door.

  ‘Yes,’ said Olly. ‘He’s gassing away to himself in there – you can hear him – I think he’s mad.’

  The men listened, and Kiki’s voice came clearly from the cell. ‘What a pity, what a pity!’

  ‘He’s sorry for himself, isn’t he?’ said Jake, and then he gave such a horrible laugh that Jack’s heart went cold with fear. ‘He’ll be sorrier still soon.’

  The men went back to the machine cave and soon the clattering, banging noises began again. Jack stood up. Kiki had saved him from a horrible punishment – poor Kiki. She didn’t know she had saved him. Jack moved to the door, meaning to unlock it and get the parrot out.

  But the key was gone. One of the men must have taken it. So Kiki was a prisoner, a real prisoner, and would have to stay there till someone let her out.

  But anyway Jack himself was free. ‘There’s something wrong about all this business,’ the boy thought. ‘Something wrong about all that money – and those mysterious machines. The men are bad. They can’t be friends of Bill’s. We’ve made a mistake.’

  He went down the passage carefully, not daring to switch on his torch. If only he could find the shaft-hole and go up it. Perhaps the others would be at the top, waiting for him? Or had they gone back home and left him all alone? Was it still daytime or was it night?

  Jack stumbled along passage after passage, wishing that Kiki was with him for company. He felt lonely and afraid now. He wanted to talk to somebody. He wanted to see the others.

  At last he was so tired that he could not go on. He curled up in a corner of a small cave, shut his eyes and fell into a restless, uncomfortable kind of sleep. For hours he slept, tired out, his limbs getting stiff as he lay there. And Kiki slept too, in the cave, puzzled and angry, missing her master as much as he missed her.

  When Jack awoke he put up his hand to feel Kiki, as he often did – but the bird was not on his shoulder. Then he remembered. Kiki was a prisoner. Because of her and her ability to talk like a human being, he, Jack was free.

  He knew a lot. He knew about the hidden treasure. He knew about those machines which were so well hidden in these underground caves for some sinister reason. He knew that the men working them were bad men. If they thought their secret, whatever it was, had been discovered, they would not stop at anything.

  ‘The thing I’ve got to do, the thing I really must do, is to escape and tell what I know,’ thought Jack. ‘I somehow think I ought
to go to the police. I’d like to go and tell Bill – because I think now he’s not in league with those men – but I’m still not certain. Anyway, the thing is – I’ve got to tell somebody.’

  So once more the boy began his endless wandering in the workings of the mines. Up and down long, musty passages he went, his torch now giving him only a very poor light.

  And then suddenly it gave out altogether. Jack tapped it a little. He screwed and unscrewed the bottom. But the battery was dead – no light would come from his torch unless he put in a new battery – and certainly he could not do that at the moment.

  Jack really did feel afraid then. There was only one hope now of escape, and that was to find, by good luck, the shaft leading up to the open air. But that was a very poor chance indeed.

  He wandered on, groping his way, his hand out before his face, carrying the nugget uncomfortably under his arm, holding it there with his other hand. Then he thought he heard something. He stopped and listened. No – it was nothing.

  He went on again, and suddenly stopped. He couldn’t help feeling that people were near. Was that somebody breathing? He stood in the dark, holding his breath and listening. But he heard nothing. ‘Maybe,’ he thought, ‘the other person is holding his breath and listening too.’

  He went on – and suddenly he bumped hard into somebody. Was it Jake, or Olly? He began to struggle desperately and the other person held on to him firmly, hurting his arm. The nugget dropped to the ground and hit Jack’s foot.

  ‘Oh, my foot, my foot!’ groaned poor Jack.

  There was an astonished silence. Then a powerful torch was switched on by his captor, and a voice said in amazement, ‘Why, it’s Jack!’

  ‘Freckles!’ came Philip’s voice too, and he ran to Jack and gave him an affectionate slap on the back. ‘Freckles! What luck to come across you like this!’

 

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