Biggles In The Jungle

by W E Johns

  ‘The next time you want to go adventuring, my lad, you’ll go alone,’ panted Algy once, viciously.

  It was more by luck than judgement that Ginger spotted the opening—or at least one opening, for there may have been others. They were not even thinking of one, for the cave still went downwards. Ginger happened to look up a side turning, and noticed a ghostly grey glow. He pulled up short.

  ‘What’s that?’ he shouted.

  The others stopped and looked. For a moment silence reigned.

  ‘It’s daylight!’ yelled Algy.

  There was a rush for the spot. Algy reached it first, and gave a cry of disappointment when he saw that the light came through a narrow crack only a few inches wide, although it was a yard or more long. A mouse might have got through it, but nothing larger. Beyond, showing as a strip of blue silk, was the sky. It was obvious that the crack was merely a flaw in the rock, due, no doubt, to the effect of wind and rain on the outside.

  Ginger, holding up the light, looked behind, and a gasp of horror broke from his lips when he saw the vanguard of the tarantulas only a few yards away.

  Algy saw them too, and it was in sheer desperation that he flung himself against the rock, near the crack. He had no genuine hope that it would widen sufficiently to allow him to go through, consequently he was utterly unprepared for what happened. The whole rock gave way under his weight, and after a vain attempt to save himself; he fell through behind it. The next moment he was clutching wildly at anything as he slid down a short but steep slope to what seemed certain destruction, for all he could see below him was a fearful void. A little avalanche of rocks preceded him to the brink. Loose boulders followed him down. He gave himself up for lost.

  When his heels struck solid ground he could hardly believe his good fortune. Then, not before, did he see where he was. He was on the stairway. On either hand ran the narrow cornice. Even then he nearly went over the edge, for a piece of rock, catching him in the small of the back, sent him sprawling. He fell across the path with his legs in space. With frantic haste he drew them in, caring little that his rifle went spinning into the void.

  Now Ginger’s startled face had appeared at the aperture behind Algy, so he had seen everything that had happened. He also saw something which Algy did not see.

  Happening to glance up the steps, he saw to his amazement and alarm that somebody was coming down—running down. There was no need to look twice to ascertain who it was. It was the Tiger. Ginger let out a yell of warning.

  ‘Here! Grab this!’ he shouted, and allowed his rifle to slide down the slope.

  At this moment he in turn was warned by Eddie that the tarantulas were on their heels, so half slipping and half sliding, he followed the rifle to the steps. Eddie came down behind him, and nearly knocked him over the edge. By the time they got down to him, Algy was covering the Tiger, who appeared to be unarmed, and shouting to him to go back.

  Now, it must be remembered that none of them knew what had happened on the plateau, so not for an instant did it occur to them that the Tiger was a fugitive. On the contrary, they supposed that either by luck, or by judgement beyond their understanding, he had deliberately aimed to intercept them. And when a yelling horde of Indians and half breeds appeared round the bend higher up the steps, it only tended to confirm this. That the Indians were, in fact, pursuing the Tiger, did not occur to them. There was no reason why it should.

  The Tiger pulled up when he saw the three white men in front of him. He threw a nervous glance over his shoulder, although this gave the impression that he was waiting for his men to come to his assistance. The situation appeared critical.

  Algy addressed the Tiger. ‘Get back,’ he ordered. ‘Get back and tell those men of yours to stop, or I’ll shoot you.’

  The Tiger appeared not to understand. He shouted something, either in Spanish or in a local dialect. Anyway, none of those below him knew what he said. Then he did a surprising thing. He looked up, then down the steps. Then he surveyed the face of the cliff. Before any of the watchers suspected his intention, with a cat-like leap he reached a narrow ledge above the path, a ledge that was not visible to those below. Along this ledge he made his way towards the hole from which the comrades had just emerged.

  At first Algy thought he simply intended getting above them, but as soon as he realised what he was going to do, he shouted a warning. Again, either the Tiger did not understand or he took no notice. He disappeared into the hole.

  He was out of sight only a moment or two. Then he reappeared, screaming, snatching and striking at a number of black hairy objects that were running over his body. He appeared to forget where he was, so it came as no surprise to the horrified watchers when he lost his balance and fell. He landed head first on the stairway amid a shower of rocks, and there he lay, limp in unconsciousness.

  For a second or two Ginger stared blankly at the wretched man, his brain trying to keep pace with events. As in a dream he saw Algy bring his heel down viciously on a loathesome great spider, and shuddered. Then, remembering the Tiger’s men, he looked up the steps and saw with fresh astonishment that they had stopped. One man now stood a little way in front of the others. It was a white man, in spotless ducks. He blinked and looked again. ‘I’m going crazy,’ he muttered.

  Algy, looking rather pale, swung round. ‘What are you talking about?’ he snapped.

  Ginger pointed. ‘Is that Carruthers, or am I beginning to imagine things?’

  Algy stared. He passed his hand wearily over his forehead. ‘It’s Carruthers, all right,’ he said. ‘If he’s here, then Biggles shouldn’t be far away.’

  ‘I don’t get it,’ muttered Eddie in a dazed voice.

  ‘Something seems to have happened while we were away,’ murmured Algy.

  Then Carruthers raised his hand in greeting, and shouted: ‘What are you fellows standing there for? Come on up. We were wondering where you were. It’s all over.’

  Algy turned a stupefied face to Ginger. ‘Did you hear that?’ he said incredulously. ‘It’s all over.’

  ‘What’s all over?’ demanded Ginger, whose nerves were beginning to crack.

  ‘Let’s go up and find out,’ suggested Algy.

  They went slowly up the steps. Carruthers went on ahead of them. They could hear him shouting. By the time they reached the top Biggles was standing there.

  ‘What do you fellows think you’re playing at?’ he inquired curtly.

  ‘Playing!’ snorted Algy. ‘Playing! That’s pretty good.’ He laughed bitterly.

  ‘I told you to wait until I came back.’

  ‘So we should have done if somebody hadn’t blown the place up.’

  ‘What happened to the Tiger?’ asked Biggles.

  Algy told him. ‘Some of the slaves are carrying him back up here,’ he concluded.

  Biggles nodded. ‘That saves us a lot of trouble,’ he observed. ‘Let’s go and meet him. I want to get that map. It should be in his pocket.’

  ‘If you’re thinking about the treasure you won’t need it,’ said Ginger with relish.

  ‘Why not?’

  It was Ginger’s turn to smile. ‘Because we’ve found it.’

  Biggles started. ‘So that’s what you’ve been up to, is it? I might have guessed it. Well, let’s go and have a look at it.’

  ‘You can have a look at it—provided I can get to it again—when I’ve had a look at a square meal and a cake of soap,’ promised Algy.

  Biggles smiled. ‘That’s a fair proposition,’ he agreed. ‘Come on, I think we can fix you up.’

  He led the way back to the machine, leaving Carruthers to attend to the business of sorting out the people on the plateau.

  The rest of the story is soon told.

  After a meal and a general clean-up, during which time Biggles ran over his adventures and the others gave him an account of what had happened during his absence, they all returned to the underground chamber. They wasted no time searching for the secret spring that actuated the ido
l, but with crowbars brought from the tool-store forced the panel open. The treasure was then carried into the open, where it could more easily be examined, and where Carruthers officially took possession of it in the name of the Crown.

  It proved to be of even greater value than they had supposed, for there were some wonderful jewels, mostly rubies and emeralds, mixed up with the gold. It was a wonderful find, for many of the objects were unique examples of the craftsmanship of the early inhabitants of tropical America, and as such were likely to bring high prices from collectors of such things. As a matter of detail, most of the pieces later found their way into museums, the comrades, including Eddie, receiving a fair percentage in cash of the total sum they produced.

  After the treasure had been examined it was taken to the Wanderer for transportation to the coast; and as their task was finished, the comrades flew straight back, taking Carruthers and the still unconscious King of the Forest with them. They stayed at the acting-Governor’s bungalow while the official inquiry into the whole affair was held. The court, having heard the evidence, exonerated them from all blame in connection with the deaths of the leading conspirators, and unofficially congratulated them on their work in putting an end to a menace that had long been a scandal in the colony. This was very gratifying, and gave them all that satisfactory feeling of a job well done. The Tiger was still in prison, awaiting trial on several charges of murder—evidence of which had been furnished by the released slaves—when they left the colony, but they had little doubt as to what his fate would be.

  The formalities over, Eddie, after trying in vain to persuade the others to go with him, returned to the United States. Dusky was given a responsible position in the native police. Then, as there was no reason for them to stay, they climbed once more into the Wanderer and continued their interrupted pleasure cruise, well satisfied with the result of their call at the little outpost of the Empire.

  THE END