With the enchanting nature of the picture Ginger was not concerned. He was in no mood to appreciate art in any shape or form. From the top of the steps that gave access to the drive, gun in hand his eyes made a swift reconnaissance, paying particular attention to the area that lay between him and his first objective, the gate.
"Which way are we going ? " asked Angus.
"Through the gate and down the river."
"Then what are we waiting for ? "
"I'm looking for the offspring of Satan that Liebgarten uses for a house dog."
"You mean Elizabeth ? "
"Yes. You've seen her ? "
"Aye, several times. She must be half tame the way she lets Liebgarten fondle her."
"We shan't need to go as far as stroking her," said Ginger. " If she'll just stay quiet, that'll be enough for me. Come on."
As they walked briskly up the drive it looked as if his hopes were to be fulfilled. Nothing moved. And they had almost reached the cactus hedge when from somewhere in the shadows ahead there came a sound which brought them to a halt. It was a low snarl.
Ginger stared, but could see nothing. So intense was the darkness under the trees that the hedge appeared to be a solid wall. "Can you see her ? " he asked. "I can't see a blessed thing."
" Nor I."
" I suppose it is Elizabeth ? "
"I don't think the Doctor has any other pets."
Ginger took a slow pace forward., The movement was greeted by another snarl. He stopped, eyes probing the shadows ahead without success. "What do we do in a case like this ? " he muttered impatiently. " Biggles said shoot her, but you can't shoot what you can't see. I wonder can we call her out." Feeling foolish he made a clucking sound, at the same time patting his knee as if he were calling a dog.
His reward was another snarl, this time with a definite menace in it. "Confound the brute,
" he said angrily. "We're wasting time."
"Suppose we push on and risk it ? " suggested Angus. "I shan't breathe, freely till I'm out of this place."
"You're liable to stop breathing altogether if you get tangled up in a wrestling bout with that black devil," answered Ginger, who was beginning to get alarmed by this hold-up. "
If she comes she'll be on top of us before we see her, and we shall have had it."
"Well, standing here won't get us anywhere," declared Angus, with a truth that was undeniable.
"Just a minute—I've got an idea," said Ginger quietly. "I know of another way out, down by the river. I don't like it very much, but I'd sooner try it than risk stepping on the tail of this—"
Another snarl, this time a really vicious one, decided him. He broke off short and started to back away, pistol at the ready. "Let's get out of this," he said crisply.
They had backed some ten or a dozen paces when the cause of their discomfiture appeared, a black, slinking shadow which, weaving a sinuous course from one side of the drive to the other, was never still.
"There she is I " said Angus aggressively. "Let her have it."
"I would if I was sure I could hit her," returned Ginger. "But a small mark, and a moving one at that, in this tricky light is no sort of a target. It's a thousand to one I should only wound her if I did hit her. Keep going. I'm all for the river."
They set off, now at a brisk walk, looking back over their shoulders at the panther, which followed at a distance, still weaving from side to side, snarling and lashing its tail. More than once, as it ran in close as if intending to charge, Ginger raised his pistol and tried without success to take aim. Each time the brute seemed to realise what he was doing, and dropped in the grass, so that only its eyes and ears could be seen.
In these uncomfortable circumstances, having made a detour of the house, they reached the hedge at the far side of the garden, behind which ran the river. There was no difficulty in finding the ditch because Ginger knew where it was. Having reached the gap he had made earlier in the day he told Angus to go ahead while he watched the panther which, apparently satisfied that it had succeeded in its purpose, faded away. Still, Ginger found that not being able to see the beast was even more disturbing than having it in view.
"Turn right when you get to the river," he told Angus. "On no account step into that ditch
; it's deep, it stinks, and I suspect it's poisonous."
A couple of minutes, punctuated by some hard words about thorns, and Angus announced that he was in the river, whereupon Ginger joined him and took the lead.
"We haven't far to go," he said confidently, making a frantic effort to wipe away with his sleeve the swarms of mosquitoes that were settling on his face.
All went well until they came within sight of the landing-stage, and then Ginger pulled up short, peering ahead. "Spare my days I " he growled. "What's that ? " He pointed to a big dark shape that loomed against the shadows.
"Looks like the Doctor's launch," answered Angus. "That's the tub that brought me here."
"Of course—what a fool I am," murmured Ginger. "Knowing that von Stalhein had arrived I should have been prepared for it. What sort of a crew does she carry ? "
"Usually, three—a white and two blacks."
"Do they keep a watch ? "
"They might, but I shouldn't think so, not here." "What about taking her ? "
"No use," returned Angus. "She won't have steam up. She runs on wood fuel. There are dumps up and down the river. It would take us at least half an hour, without any opposition, to raise a head of steam."
"What about cutting her adrift, or setting her on fire ? "
suggested Ginger, who was feeling vindictive. why ? "
"Just to make things awkward for them."
"You'd make things a sight more awkward for the other people here. This is the boat that brings up the grub, don't forget. The Doctor and his friends wouldn't starve, but the others might."
" Ah-huh. I see what you mean," concurred Ginger.
"She tows a dinghy aft. We might take that."
"By thunder! That's good news," declared Ginger. "Rowing will be easier than blundering along that bank in the dark. Come on."
A man was sleeping on deck. They couldn't see him but they could hear him snoring. He might, or might not, have been a sentry. Ginger didn't care as long as he stayed asleep.
Going to the stern of the launch he waded out until he could reach the painter that secured the dinghy to its parent vessel, and drew the smaller craft towards him. Taking infinite pains to make no noise they got into it. Ginger cut the painter near the launch to retain as much of it as possible, and pushed off. A moment later they were afloat on the broad surface of the Polito—a river of ink, it appeared to be in the moonlight—drifting slowly downstream with the current.
"That's better," breathed Ginger, scraping mosquitoes from his face with a shuddering gasp. "My gosh! I've seen some mosquitoes in my time, but these little devils tear lumps out of you. Paradise, eh ? Paradise my foot I "
"You get used to them in time," said Angus casually.
"I hope I shan't be here long enough," returned Ginger. "Look what they've done to you.
You must be as full of fever as that skunk Liebgarten is full of guile."
"When he misses the dinghy he'll know we've taken it and must be on the river somewhere," Angus pointed out
"By the time he discovers that I hope we shall be in the atmosphere," answered Ginger. "
Which reminds me. I wonder how Biggles is getting on. He'll have to walk down that dirty forest path that follows the bank in order to join us. He didn't say how long he was going to be—but that, I imagine, was because he didn't want the Doctor to know too much about our movements." As he spoke, now that they were some distance from the launch, Ginger picked up the oars, slipped them into the rowlocks, and brought the dinghy under control. Then for a little while he rowed on in silence, quietly, and knowing they were in no hurry, without any great expenditure of energy.
Said Angus presently : "How did you learn I was here ? " "A fel
low named Linton got in touch with Biggles and told him all about it."
" Mon 1 That's grand," said Angus warmly. "He was a good scout. I should have gone with him but I went down with fever."
"Yes. So he said. He told Biggles the whole story before he—died."
" Died ? "
"He died in the London Hospital for Tropical Diseases. He was rotten with fever and had a poisoned arrow in his leg into the bargain. Biggles reckoned it was just guts that kept him alive until he could spill the beans about this ropey outfit."
"Poor old Linton," murmured Angus, in a voice heavy with sorrow. "I'm sorry about that."
A minute passed and he spoke again, but now there was a cold ring in his voice. "Those swine murdered him. That lying hound of a Doctor murdered him just as surely as if he'd cut his throat. If I ever get my hands on him
"Okay—okay—take it easy," interposed Ginger. "I know how you feel, but don't get het up. I've got an idea Biggles has something in store for Doctor Liebgarten, before he's through with him. You're lucky to be alive yourself. I was just thinking, . . ."
"Thinking what ? "
"If Biggles has got to come down the forest path we might as well wait for him and pick him up."
"How far down the river are you supposed to meet Algy ? "
"Three miles or so. There's a long straight reach with a sharp bend at the bottom. You can't mistake the place. By the way, Bertie will probably be with him."
" Bertie l Is he with you ? "
"You don't suppose he'd be left behind ? "
"Mon, that's grand. It'll be a treat to see him. What time are we due to meet the aircraft ? "
"As soon as it gets light enough to see."
"That'll be about six o'clock."
"About that."
"Then we've plenty of time on our hands."
"That's what I was thinking," agreed Ginger. "As long as we're on the spot to meet Algy when he lands it doesn't matter what we do in the meantime. That jungle path is going to be no joke for Biggles in the dark. I reckon we might go on for a bit, then pull into the bank and wait for Biggles to come along. If he turns up before, say, five o'clock, we could all go along to the rendezvous together. But I should think he'll be here before then."
"Why did he stay, anyway ? "
"I don't think there's much doubt about that. He wanted to make sure we had a good start.
Had he come with us there would have been a hue and cry on our heels inside five minutes. It would have spread right down the river and perhaps made it risky for Algy to land. If we lost the aircraft, or even had it damaged beyond running repair, we should be sunk. But I think we've come far enough. I'll pull into the bank now. What are those lights I can see ? "
"Fireflies."
"Of course." Ginger turned the nose of the dinghy towards the bank.
"You'll find the mosquitoes waiting for you," warned Angus.
"In that case we'll only draw in close enough to keep out of their range," declared Ginger.
"We might even take it in turns to snatch a wink of sleep."
This was agreed and the dinghy was brought to a stop just outside the trees that lined the bank down which Biggles would come. It could not be moored as there was no anchor, but an occasional touch on an oar was sufficient to keep it steady. A few mosquitoes soon found the boat, but not enough to make the position intolerable.
"You lie down in the bottom and get some sleep, Angus," invited Ginger.
"No, I'm all right," protested Angus. "I've learned to do without sleep."
"Are you sure ? "
"Positive. Pull your socks over the bottoms of your trousers, turn up your collar and put a handkerchief over your face. It helps a bit to keep the mosquitoes off."
Ginger composed himself on the floor boards but could not sleep. His brain was too active. But he lay still, resting, for some time, listening to the strange sounds that came out of the jungle. At last he sat up. "It's no use, I can't go to sleep," he announced. "What'
s that queer noise I can hear every now and then ? It sounds like monkeys chattering, but I thought monkeys went to bed at sundown, like respectable people ? "
"What you can hear," said Angus calmly, "is Indians, talking."
Ginger sat bolt upright. "Did you say Indians ? " "Aye."
"But—for the love of Mike I Where are they ? " "Some way down the river, I think."
" On this bank ? "
"Aye."
"What will they be doing there ? "
"They've probably made a camp for the night. They wander up and down the river."
"But if they're down there, on the bank, they'll be between Biggles and the rendezvous.
That will be all right if he comes in time for us to pick him up, but—"
"I know. I was thinking about that-. But Biggles should be here in plenty of time. I reckoned we'd pick him up, cross to the other bank, and try to slip past the wogs without being seen. Not that it will matter much if we are seen. They wouldn't be able to reach us with their arrows ; they haven't the range."
"That's a crumb of comfort, anyway," declared Ginger. He cocked an ear to listen. "They'
re like a lot of animals, squeaking and grunting."
"That's just what they are. Wait till you've seen them. It'll give you an idea of what we probably looked like a million years ago."
"You mean—like gorillas ? "
"Nothing like it. These forest Indians are dirty undersized little beasts, stark naked, bald as coots with enormous mouths and pot bellies. When I say animals I mean animals, and not much of an animal at that. A decent dog could teach them a lot. They'll eat any carrion thrown up by the river—dead snakes, crocodiles—anything. They'd eat you if they got the chance. Between times they make shift on ants, bugs, beetles, centipedes or what have you. There is reason to suppose they also eat each other."
"Nice little people," observed Ginger.
"They just happen to be like that, and as they must have been like it for thousands of years apparently they don't want to be anything else. Fortunately, nothing will get them out of the forest. They've lived in the semi-dark for so long that they can't see in the light.
Liebgarten has made contact with them by throwing them food, usually stuff that has gone rotten in the colony. They get an extra dollop for bringing in any white man they find—which means, of course, anyone who tries to get out of the valley."
After that they fell silent again. Time dawdled on. No sound came to announce the approach of Biggles. Ginger looked at his watch and saw that it was after midnight. One o'clock came, two o'clock ; but not Biggles. In the forest all was now silent. The chattering of the natives had ceased.
"I don't like this," said Ginger uneasily, at last. "He should be here by now. What can be keeping him ? " "Suppose he doesn't come ? "
"Then we shall be on a spot," asserted Ginger morosely. "I shall be faced with the unpleasant choice of going back for him or pushing on to meet Algy."
"You'd better be making up your mind which it's to be."
Ginger considered the problem for a long time before he answered. "I shall have to go on to the aircraft," he decided. "Those were my orders, and we should look silly if we went back, only to find that Biggles went some other way to the rendezvous. There's just a chance that he might have swum the river and gone down the other bank —he'd be quite likely to do that if he were pushed, or to throw them off our trail. He may be followed, anyway, so we'd better stand by for a quick move. I'll give him till four o'clock, and then start down the river. We'll cross over first."
Angus agreed.
Then followed another weary period of waiting, with hope fading and anxiety mounting.
Three o'clock came, but no Biggles. The night seemed interminable. Angus helped to pass the time by relating some of his experiences in the valley. At the end he confirmed all that Biggles had surmised about his treatment during the past few hours.
Pedro had ridden up to say that the Doctor wanted to see him a
t the house. There seemed to be no reason to disbelieve this because he could not think why the Doctor should send such a message if it were not true. He had followed Pedro to the house, where he had been seized, and without explanation pushed into a disused cellar, where the key had been turned on him. He was still trying to guess the reason for his sudden imprisonment when Pedro had returned, taken him to the lounge, where the sight of Biggles at once solved the mystery. Not for a moment had he suspected that liberation might be at hand.
At a quarter to four Ginger bestired himself. " He isn't coming," he announced. "
Something's gone wrong. What worries me as much as anything is, if he should come just after we've gone he'll bump straight into that bunch of wogs."
"They'll soon be on the move," said Angus. "They only stay in one place long enough to scour it of anything in the way of food. But whether they'll go upstream or down I can't say. They must have been travelling upstream when they stopped for the night or we should have heard something of them. Hark ! This sounds like them coming now."
They listened, and while they did so the chattering began again, growing louder.
"Aye," said Angus. "They're coming."
"They'll see us."
"They will if we stay here," answered Angus.
"What had we better do ? Biggles is going to walk straight into them if he comes now, but I can't see that we can do anything about it, unless we start a free fight when they reach here."
"That would only bring Biggles along all the faster," opined Angus. "He'd think we were in trouble. No, I wouldn't do that. We'd better pull over yon side till they've gone past."
What followed fell out as Angus had predicted. From behind a safety curtain of ferns on the other bank they heard the pigmies go past, but could not see them on account of the darkness. As soon as the noise of their passage had died away Ginger picked up the oars, pushed the dinghy out into the stream, and started rowing.
The rendezvous was reached without further incident. Ginger pulled the boat close against the bank to leave a clear runway for the aircraft, shipped his oars, and settled down to wait for daylight, now not far distant. "This is a miserable business," he remarked lugubriously.
35 Biggles Takes A Holiday Page 11