anyone else could run these unorthodox outside shows if discipline was maintained to the same extent as it is at a training squadron. You have to relax discipline to give initiative a chance. It's team work that sees us through. If we lose you the unit loses its head."
Biggles smiled faintly. "That's very kind and flattering of you, but why this sudden outburst of emotion ? "
"You're planning to do this job alone."
"Why not ? I've just been going over the ground. There's nothing to it."
"All the more reason why you should stay here and let someone else go," argued Algy.
Biggles shook his head. "A lot may depend on the success of this show. The responsibility is mine, and that being so, I'd rather keep it than hang it on someone else's shoulders."
"I can understand how you feel about that," confessed Algy, "but why go alone ? You might run into a lump of flak ; you might fall sick with fever ; you might—"
"Look here, Algy," broke in Biggles grimly, "if you are going to start running through all the things that might happen you'll be here all day. The only real risk in this show lies in running into hostile aircraft during daylight hours. The rest should be easy."
"Should be," echoed Algy. "Then why not take us with you, if only for company ? If you should need help—well, we'll be there."
Biggles raised his eyebrows. "Do you mean the whole squadron ? "
"No—just us two."
"I see. You'd like to be in the party—is that it ? " " Well—er—more or less."
"All right," agreed Biggles. "I'm not a dog that I must keep the bone to myself. Come by all means. I hope you enjoy it. Personally I should say it will be a pretty dull affair."
"When do we start ? " asked Algy.
"Half an hour before sundown. I aim to do most of the show in the dark ; there's less likelihood of being seen by aircraft in the air or spotters on the ground. The thjng we've got to do is take Fee Wong to Telapur, put him ashore, and then get back without the enemy knowing anything about it."
"What about equipment ? " inquired Ginger.
"I don't think we shall need anything special. We'd better take revolvers, and iron rations in case of a forced landing. Unless an emergency arises everyone else on the station will stand fast until we get back. Now, if you'll leave me in peace for a little while, I've got some figures to work out."
The sun was dropping towards the horizon when the Cayman was wheeled out ready for its long-distance raid. Biggles glanced at the sun two or three times as the party walked over to the machine.
"What's the matter?" asked Algy, who noticed this.
" Nothing—I hope," answered Biggles. "I'm not quite happy about the mist that seems to be forming round the sun. I've got a feeling it means a change of weather. Still, we can't do anything about it. You'd better take charge of things inside the cabin. Ginger can sit next to me. Let's get away."
CHAPTER XI
MONSOON
THE Cayman took off and roared away on a course that was slightly north of west.
Climbing steadily
for height, it was over Sarawak, the land of the White Rajahs, when the sun dropped into the Indian Ocean. Then the South China Sea came into view, with here and there a tiny island, as lonely as a moorland milestone, breaking its surface. Somewhere in the dim beyond lay Malaya, the objective.
The Cayman roared on across the dome of heaven under a canopy of stars that gleamed like frosted incandescent lamps. For a time they remained constant ; then, slowly but surely, the smaller ones began to fade ; presently the larger ones went out, while around the moon there began to form a pale transparent veil or mist.
Biggles glanced at Ginger in the seat beside him and made a grimace. He could see him in the glow of the instrument panel. "Not so good," he murmured. "I'm afraid weather is on the way. We may just be in time to miss it—or we may not. If it catches us out, my lad, you're going to wish you'd stayed at home. You'll remember this trip for a long time.
"
Never was prophecy more completely fulfilled.
Four hours passed. The sky was now overcast, ominous, but the sea could still be seen, or rather an occasional island, inky black, seeming to float in a great bottoniless pool.
"Take a drift sight on one of those islands' and see what you make of it," ordered Biggles after a long silence.
Ginger started. He was nearly asleep, lulled into a feeling of false security by the unbroken drone of the engines. Five minutes later he answered.
"We're running into a head-wind of about forty miles an hour."
Biggles's face hardened. "That's what I thought. Fetch Algy."
Algy appeared, crouching behind Biggles, who explained the position.
"When we started I reckoned we hadn't more than half-an-hour's petrol in hand. We're running into a head-wind of forty miles an hour. I needn't tell you what that means."
"What are you going to do—carry on, or go back and wait for better weather ? "
"If the monsoon is on the way we may have to wait three months for better weather,"
answered Biggles curtly. "If we go on we shall get to Telapur—but we shan't have enough juice to get back."
Ginger spoke. "I suggest that we take Fee Wong to Telapur, and then start thinking how to get home. If we can get him there, and he can bust up that convoy, the rest becomes comparatively unimportant."
Biggles glanced at Algy. They both smiled. "All right," said Biggles quietly, "let's go to Telapur."
Shortly afterwards the black mainland of Malaya came into view. Biggles did not actually make a landfall, but while still some miles out to sea he turned north. The weather was no worse, and while it was dark he hoped to make out the mouth of the river. An objective that has never before been viewed from the air is seldom easy to find
; nor was it in this case, and several times Biggles was misled by what turned out to be bays, or creeks, or channels behind islands too small to be shown on the map. Fee Wong was of very little use because he had never flown over the country, and while he knew it well enough from ground level, he confessed frankly that from the air one place was as another. However, when Biggles did find the River Limpur, he was able to confirm by its course that it was the right one. By this time Biggles had cut his engines, and, gliding, had lost a good deal of height.
To spot the actual sawmills of Telapur was obviously out of the question. Nothing less than a large city could have been picked out. All that could be seen was the grey ribbon of the meandering river, bordered on both sides by the solid mass of the virgin forest. Fee Wong had asserted that he would be able to identify the spot when he reached it by a long, straight stretch which occurred just above Telapur, but now that the crucial moment had come it turned out that there were several such reaches. For this Biggles was not unprepared. Far from being surprised, he would have been astonished had Fee Wong been able to take him straight to the place. He knew that the Chinese was doing his best, so he was patient with him.
"How far is Telapur from the West Coast ? " he asked.
But Fee Wong did not think in terms of miles. He could only say that it was about half-way across the Peninsula.
This helped Biggles quite a lot, for knowing from the map that at this latitude the Peninsula was about one hundred and fifty miles across, he could judge roughly when he was half-way. He flew lower, and as he flew, as is usually the case, it seemed to get darker.
He turned to Ginger. "There's only one thing left to do," he said. "Already we haven't enough petrol left to get back to Lucky Strike, so whether we use a little more or less can make no difference. We can't be a great distance from Telapur, so I'm going down to find out just where we are. If we put Fee Wong ashore anywhere along here he ought to be able to make his way on foot to his brother's bungalow. If we find that we are too far up the river we might be able to float down ; if we aren't far enough, we might be able to taxi. You swop places with Fee Wong."
Fee Wong came forward and sat in the seat next
to Biggles. He looked long and steadily at the river, but it was the first time that he had seen it from above and he could not be sure of his position. He was honest enough to say so.
"Then I must go down and land," said Biggles.
" Velly good," answered Fee Wong imperturbably.
The actual landing was a hair-raising affair. First Biggles had to find a stretch of river running north-west to south-east in order to land into the wind. This was not absolutely vital on account of the high trees on either bank which would break the force of the wind, but it was a precaution. There was no stretch running absolutely in the desired direction, so he chose the nearest, and then glided down to land on water which at this point was between a hundred and two hundred yards broad.
The aircraft landed heavily, plunged on through a cloud of spray, came to rest for a moment, and then started floating with the stream.
"Look and see if you know where you are," Biggles told Fee Wong.
The Chinese stood up, surveyed both banks, and then told Biggles that he knew just where they were. When Biggles asked him if they were above or below Telapur, he pointed down-stream. He was not able to
state the exact distance, but Biggles gathered that the saw-mills were not far away.
"In that case the best thing we can do is sit still and float down," answered Biggles. "On the whole we've done pretty well."
The Cayman floated about a mile in a quarter of an hbur and then stubbed its nose on a submerged sandbank. The tail drifted round, and turning slowly, the aircraft floated gently ashore against the south bank. To say that it drifted ashore may be misleading.
What it actually did was to drift into the tangled branches that hung far over the river, but it was still some yards from the actual bank.
"We may as well pull her right in," said Biggles. "There will be less chance of her being seen by anyone coming up or down the river."
This was easily done. By pulling on the branches it was possible to drag the aircraft against the bank. Having made her fast by the nose, they stepped ashore to stretch their cramped limbs.
"Well, this is it," observed Biggles. "This is where we say good-bye to Fee Wong." He turned to the Chinese. "Would you like us to stay here until you have made sure that your brother is at Telapur—or at any rate until you have seen that everything is all right ? "
"You have not enough petrol to go back to Borneo ? " queried Fee Wong.
"Don't worry about that," returned Biggles. "What you do ? "
"We shall fly as far as we can—perhaps reach the Borneo coast, or an island near it."
Actually, Biggles had as yet formed no definite plan.
"Maybe my brother have petrol," announced Fee Wong calmly.
Biggles started. "Say that again!"
"I say maybe my brother have petrol."
This was something for which Biggles was not prepared. "Why should he have petrol ? "
"He use petrol start engines in saw-mill."
"This puts a different complexion on things," declared Biggles. "You go along and find out if he has any. There's no need for us all to come."
"Shall I slip along with him ? " offered Ginger.
"In country like this I think it would be wiser if we kept together," decided Biggles. "If once we get separated anything can happen."
"I go," put in Fee Wong. "I come back pletty soon." He scrambled up the bank and disappeared into the darkness.
"I hope he's right about getting back pretty soon," said Biggles, making a slap at his face as, with a shrill metallic ping, a mosquito settled on it. "We shall be torn to pieces by mosquitoes if we stay here long. I think our best place is in the cabin ; it will at least afford some protection against the little beasts."
They got back into the machine and settled down to rest. Biggles lit a cigarette. Ginger and Algy tried to sleep, but the mosquitoes decided otherwise and they soon gave up in disgust. Then came a sound that brought Biggles bolt upright, rigid. It was the sharp patter of rain on the cabin roof.
" Rain ! " he ejaculated. "If this is the real rains starting we're in for a lovely time."
"What do you mean—the real rains ? " asked Ginger.
"The monsoon isn't due for a fortnight yet, and as a general rule it's pretty punctual ; but sometimes there is a sort of preliminary shower or two, just to give you a taste of what's coming. Once in a while the monsoon
arrives a bit ahead of its time, and if that is what has happened now we shall be in as unholy a mess as we've ever struck. I didn't say anything about it when we landed, but it seemed to me that the river was running pretty fast, as if there had already been some rain here, or at the headwaters of the river. Maybe we shall learn the truth when Fee Wong gets back."
Even while Biggles had been speaking the noise of falling water had risen to such a roar that Ginger found it hard to believe that it was caused by rain. He pulled the side window open and looked out. He could see nothing. Everything was blotted out by a curtain of water. It did not blow about, or rise and fall in volume : it came down in a constant downpour as if a million taps had been turned on. He shut the window.
"It's certainly raining," he told the others. "How long is it likely to keep on ? "
"A week, maybe a month, perhaps on and off for three months," answered Biggles.
"Three months ! " Ginger looked aghast. "The world would be flooded."
Biggles smiled wanly. " It is--at least, this part of the world. At home we get about twenty-five inches of rain a year. Here, it can do that, and more, in a day. They don't measure it in inches but in feet. It's no use kidding ourselves. I'm afraid the monsoon has started. It's bad luck, coming like this ahead of its time, but we can't stop it. It's just one of those things. What I'm worried about is how far this will upset Fee Wong's plan. The barges may leave before he can muster his sabotage gang. Meanwhile the river will rise so fast that you'll think you're going up in a lift."
"But, dash it all, we can't just sit here doing nothing," declared Ginger.
"This is one of those occasions when we can't do
Anything else," returned Biggles evenly. "We're better Off here than out on the stream, although if the rain 'goes on we shall probably be washed out, anyway. If We aren't washed out we shall be lifted up into the trees. By that time the river will be hard to find, because the whole country becomes flooded. For the moment I'm content to stay in the dry—we shall be wet soon enough. We may as well open a tin of bully and nibble a biscuit."
Two hours passed. The rain maintained its constant roar, and Ginger began to wonder how long it would be before the noise drove him mad. One thing was certain : unless there was a lull, even if they obtained petrol, they were tied to the river, for it would be hopeless to try to get off through the blinding rain.
At length a shout broke the weary vigil. A storm-lantern gleamed mistily through the falling rain. It was Fee Wong, his gown plastered to his body by mud and water. Behind him stood another figure, a Chinese of about the same age. Ginger guessed it was Ah Wong, Fee Wong's brother, and this turned out to be correct. Biggles shouted to them to come into the cabin, for it was next to impossible to carry on a conversation outside.
The two Chinese came in, dripping water that formed pools on the floor.
"Monsoon start," said Fee Wong, without emotion. "I'd noticed it," returned Biggles, with a suspicion of sarcasm. " What's the news ? "
With Oriental imperturbability Fee Wong then proceeded to narrate a story of calamity so unexpected that the airmen sat motionless in speechless dismay. It was worse than anything they could have foreseen. Ginger tried to put the main facts in his memory.
They were these.
The monsoon had broken. There had already been
some advance showers over the preceding four days, with the result that the Japanese barges had already left their moorings on the western side of the Peninsula and were well on their way to the east. They were, in fact, at Telapur, moored just beyond the mills, and would have gone farther
had there not been a Japanese military pontoon bridge to interrupt their passage. Across this bridge Japanese forces, including guns and light tanks, had already passed. But the main force was still to cross, and it was thought that the crossing would take place within the next twenty-four hours. Those who had already crossed had quartered themselves in the mill. After the crossing had been effected the bridge would be dismantled, when the barges would proceed on their way. So much Fee Wong had learned from his brother, who was still at the mill. The spot where the Cayman now clung precariously to the bank was less than four miles from the mill, and less than five from the bridge.
What about the petrol ? " asked Biggles, when Fee Wong finally broke off.
Somehow Ginger knew what the answer would be before the Chinese answered.
Troubles seldom come singly.
"No petrol," answered Fee Wong. "The Japanese have taken."
Biggles lit a cigarette and smoked for a moment in silence. "Looks as though we're going to stay here for a bit," he remarked presently.
"No stay," declared Fee Wong. "River rise. Break aeroplane in pieces."
"Okay, then we don't stay," murmured Biggles. "That means we go."
"No go," said Fee Wong. "River smash you all up."
Biggles looked at Algy and Ginger in turn. "You heard that ? We can't stay and we can't go. That's fine. Now let's get down to brass tacks and decide just what we are going to do."
Further inquiry produced the information that the petrol, about forty gallons of ordinary commercial spirit, was still in the mill, although it had been piled, with other things the invaders had seized, ready for removal. Ah Wong and the coolies who worked the mill were not actually confined, possibly because there was nowhere to confine them. They had simply been ordered by the Japanese to remain where they were. The barges were moored close together and a sentry stood guard over each one, apart from a number of troops who were bivouacked on the bank. Ah Wong was of opinion that one or two mooring-ropes might with luck be cut, but the saboteurs would then be discovered.
"That's not much use," muttered Biggles. "We've got to get the lot. If we could bust that bridge, not only would it disorganize the Jap column, but it would be pretty certain to draw attention away from the barges. The time factor is really what we are up against.
28 Biggles In Borneo Page 10