21 Biggles In the South Seas

by Captain W E Johns

  `What do you mean—you can't find them? They must be on the island somewhere.'

  Ì've been from one end of it to the other but I couldn't see them,' returned Algy. 'I found Ginger's shoes, and some fish they had evidently caught—but there was no sign of them.'

  `Where did you find Ginger's shoes?'

  `Just a little way along, on the coral, beside a cove.' Biggles looked at Sandy. 'What the deuce can they be up to?' he muttered. 'Where are they likely to be?'

  Sandy shook his head. 'Don't ask me. Ginger won't have come to any harm, though.

  Shell-Breaker and Full Moon will see to that—they know what they're doing.'

  Ì hope they do,' replied Biggles. 'Well, we can't go without them. I think the machine's afloat, so we'll get all ready to take off the moment they arrive.'

  A quarter of an hour passed. The sun was now going down in a blood-red glow, misty and threatening; only the rim of it remained above the horizon. Presently it disappeared in the sea. Darkness fell.

  `Well, that knocks on the head any idea of going tonight,' said Biggles quietly. 'What's happened to those kids? I'm getting worried about them.'

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  `Something's going to happen to the machine if we don't do something about it,' cut in Algy. 'Loa' at the reef.'

  For the first time since their arrival seas were sweeping right over the reef into the lagoon. Angry ripples surged across the normally still water, so that the machine, now afloat, moved up and down uneasily.

  `We'd better get some more anchors on her,' said Biggles seriously, as he watched the '

  Scud' rocking.

  `Half a dozen wouldn't hold her if it's a real blow,' returned Sandy. 'She'll tear herself to pieces in no time.'

  `There's nothing else we can do,' answered Biggles. 'Get some lumps of coral, the biggest you can lift, and we'll make extra anchors fore and aft. We've plenty of rope.'

  Às you say, that's the only thing we can do,' agreed Sandy.

  Ì think you'd better go and have another look for those kids, Algy,' went on Biggles. '

  Sandy and I will fix the mchine up.'

  Algy nodded and hurried away.

  It was half an hour before he returned, by which time the 'Scud' was riding uneasily at six anchors, any one of which would have been sufficient to hold her in an ordinary sea. 'I can't see a sign of them anywhere,' he said. 'Ginger's shoes are still on the coral. He must have taken them off to bathe. I'm sorry to say that I'm afraid something serious has happened.'

  Biggles was silent for a moment. 'Yes,' he said, slowly. `Something has happened or they'

  d be back before now. Something happened to them in the water. It's hard to believe that they can all be drowned. On the other side of the island, in the open sea, they might have got carried away, but-I can't see that happening in the lagoon.'

  Ì wonder if a shark could have got them?' muttered Sandy.

  `Not all of them, surely? At least one of them would get back to the shore—not that I think Ginger would go far away from it after his recent experience. The only thing I can think of is that they went off to the reef, and were either dragged off by a big wave, or tried to swim and were unable to get back. Well, we can't do anything about it. If it were daylight we might fly round and look for them, but in this darkness we shouldn't see anything unless we were

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  on the water, and taxi-ing is out of the question. I couldn't get the machine through those seas pouring into the en trance to the lagoon—not that it would be of any use if I could.

  She wouldn't live for a minute in the sea that's running outside. Hark at it! '

  The deep incessant boom of the mighty combers told its own story. There was something frightening about the way they hurled themselves on the reef with a power that caused the island to tremble. The palms were beginning to lash to and fro in the wind.

  `Well, it's no use standing here,' said Biggles at last. Ìt's not much use doing anything else that I can see,' murmured Sandy.

  `We'll make another search,' decided Biggles. 'It's better than doing nothing. Algy, you take the eastern end of the island. Sandy, you take the middle. I'll do the western end.'

  So they parted, each heading for his allotted beat, calling loudly the names of the missing.

  Biggles was away for an hour. He got back to find that Sandy and Algy had already returned. He did not trouble to ask them if they had any news, for it was obvious that their search had been as unsuccessful as his. 'Well, that's about all we can do,' he said bitterly. 'We'll stand by until the morning. If the machine looks like being damaged we'll try to get her off and head for Rutuona. I can cruise round until it's light enough to see to land. I think we've enough petrol. Otherwise, from what you've told us, Sandy, if the machine is smashed up we're likely to spend the rest of our lives here.'

  The night passed slowly, but at long last the eastern sky began to turn pale; and with the coming of dawn the fury of the storm increased. Huge seas were now sweeping right across the reef and flooding into the lagoon. Waves lashed the coral beach which a few hours before had been so silent. The 'Scud' strained at her moorings, throwing herself about like a terrified animal.

  `She won't stand much more of that,' said Biggles, grimly. `Stand fast, and I'll go and have a look at the barometer.' With difficulty he waded waist-deep to the cockpit. He glanced at the instrument board and came back—or, rather, was thrown back by the sea.

  `What is it?' asked Sandy.

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  `Twenty-nine.'

  `Sweet spirit of Scotland, then it's coming,' declared Sandy.

  Ìf we don't go now we're here for good,' returned Biggles. 'Look at the lagoon. I couldn't have believed that such a sea could have got up in so short a time. And it's getting worse.

  I'm by no means sure that I can get the machine off, even now, but it's now or never.

  Well, what shall we do? You've a say in the matter as well as me.'

  `We'd better go. We can always come back later and look for the kids,' voted Sandy. '

  There's no sense in just standing here and watching the machine break up in front of our eyes. She'll start dragging those anchors presently, or else tear herself to pieces. The sea is getting worse, and if I know anything about it it's going to be a lot worse before it's better. I've had one long spell on this island and I don't want another, but that's what it will mean if we lose the machine.'

  Àll right,' said Biggles. 'Get aboard. Be careful, there's the devil of an undertow. It nearly swept me off my feet.'

  Fighting their way through the waves they managed to get to the machine and drag themselves on board. Biggles started the engines. 'Cut the ropes fore and aft,' he shouted above the din, for what with the noise of the engines, the crash of the waves, and the lashing palms, it was no use speaking in a normal voice. 'You get to the bows, Algy.

  Yours will be the last rope. Don't cut till I give the signal. I'll wait for her to swing round with her nose into the sea. Right, Sandy.'

  Sandy's knife came down on the last rope that held the machine by the stem. Instantly the

  'Scud' swung round, dragging at the single rope that held her by the bows. She bucked so violently that Algy needed all his strength to hold on.

  `Right! ' yelled Biggles, and opened the throttle.

  Algy's knife came down across the rope. It parted with a twang that could be heard above the gale. He clambered aft, and fell headlong into the cabin as the 'Scud' rose to the next wave. He lay where he fell, for it was impossible to stand.

  The 'Scud' was racing through a blinding cloud of spray

  that made it impossible to see anything else, so that Biggles 89

  had to fly by feel alone. Twice he was sure they were gone, as the machine plunged into a trough, but each time she rose miraculously to the next wave. Then a sea struck her sideways across the bows, and she yawed into a trough. There was no question of turning. The machine would not answer to her controls in such conditions. But a momentary lul
l gave Biggles a chance, and he took it. He raced thèScud' straight along the bottom of the trough, and as the next wave rolled towards him he jerked the stick back, knowing that if the machine did not rise they were all doomed. Not until all seemed lost did the machine unstick. She staggered off the water, the wave snatching at her keel as it broke under her. The next moment the machine was climbing up through a cloud of spray that hid the reef from sight.

  Biggles settled himself back in his seat and tightened the safety belt. To say that he actually headed for Rutuona would not be strictly true. The wind was across, so in order to reach the island he had to turn his bows towards the open ocean and drift sideways. He noticed that the barometer was down to 28.50.

  Rutuona came into view, an oasis of whirling trees in a white-flecked ocean, and he looked anxiously for a landing-place. As far as he could see there was only one, a narrow strip of water that ran far inland between two rugged cliffs, like a Norwegian fiord.

  He nosed the machine towards it, and was thankful to see that the protected water was comparatively calm, although the air was full of flying debris, palm-fronds and the like.

  There was also a fair amount on the surface of the water. How much of it was soft enough to give under their keel, and how much was solid, it was impossible to determine.

  But it was no longer a matter of saving the machine. Their lives were in peril, and in such circumstances he was prepared to lose the machine if they could all get ashore safely.

  Exploring the creek with his eyes he determined to take the machine to the far end of it, where a scree ran right down to the water's edge, forming a natural slipway.

  He brought the machine in under full throttle, and even so his ground-speed was negligible. The keel struck the water; the hull veered sideways as a wing-float caught in a tangle of floating bushes, and they came to rest in a still 90

  larger tangle that had been caught up by a projecting crag. More debris was floating towards the place, so that in a few seconds the 'Scud' was hemmed in by it. The bottom of the scree was about twenty yards away.

  Biggles switched off and turned to the others. 'Well, here we are,' he said evenly. 'And here we look like staying for a bit,' he added. 'I shouldn't have minded had it not been for the kids. Still, I suppose it's no use talking about that now. We couldn't do more than we did. We'll go back and look for them again as soon as this wind drops a bit.'

  Ìt's going to take us some time to get out of here,' declared Sandy. 'It will mean a couple of days' work cutting a channel through these bushes, unless we can get to Roaring Wave and persuade him to lend us some labourers. I don't think there will be any difficulty about that. I reckon we are about six miles from the village.'

  Biggles nodded. 'About that,' he said. 'I think we'd better try to get along, and see what Roaring Wave says.'

  Ìf you don't mind we'll stay here until the wind drops,' grunted Sandy. 'We should get our skulls stove in by falling coconuts before we'd gone a hundred yards. A coconut grove is no place in a gale of wind, believe me.'

  Òf course,' agreed Biggles. 'I forgot that. As you say, we shall just have to sit here until the wind drops. I hope nothing falls on top of us; half the greenstuff on the island seems to be blowing over our heads. By the way, where did you put the pearls?'

  Sandy blinked. 'The pearls?' he stammered. 'Didn't you bring 'em?'

  `No, I left it to you.'

  Sandy's face was a picture. He shook his head sadly. 'I always was an unlucky son of a gun when there were pearls about,' he muttered miserably. 'They must be still under the rock where we left them.'

  Biggles dodged a whirling palm-frond. "Pretty good,' was all he said, but there was more than a suspicion of sarcasm in his voice.

  H AD Ginger told the others of the existence of the fairy grotto they would have guessed at once where he was, in which case their attempts to get into touch with him might well have ended in tragedy. So, although it was hard to believe at the time, it was really just as well that Ginger had withheld the information.

  He had no intention of going to the grotto when, with Full Moon and Shell-Breaker, he had set off at Sandy's request to get some fish. Naturally, they made their way to, the same cove where they had done so well on the previous occasion, and they soon had a good supply of fish flapping about on the coral. So quickly were they supplied with all the fish they were likely to need that Full Moon's suggestion of a swim in the pool was promptly taken up, and they were soon all splashing about in the pure water. In these circumstances a visit to the grotto was almost automatic. Full Moon shouted that she was going, and took a header. The others were on her track before the splash had subsided, and together they swam through the short cave into the fairyland beyond.

  Laughing from sheer lightheartedness they climbed up on the ledge where they had sat before, and reaching down kicked spray into the air with startling results, for it flashed like myriad blue sparks. However, the best fun must come to an end, and for a time they sat talking in low tones about their exquisite surroundings.

  At last Ginger got up. 'It's time we were getting back,' he said. 'In fact; we've stayed too long already. I have an idea Sandy was waiting to fry those fish for supper. The sun must be going down. The water is turning mauve. Incidentally, I believe it is getting rough outside; look at the ripples coming in.'

  For a moment or two longer they stood watching the

  colour-transformation that was taking place before their

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  eyes; then Ginger balanced himself on the ledge, hands together, ready to plunge. He was looking over his shoulder at Shell-Breaker, who he suspected from previous experience might push him in, and so he did not see what Full Moon saw. Her wild scream filled the cave with sound.

  Ginger spun round, not a little alarmed. 'What's the matter?' he cried.

  Full Moon pointed at the water. 'Mako!' she said.

  Ginger turned again, and saw an enormous triangular fin projecting above the water just inside the entrance to the cave. It was moving forward, slowly.

  For a full minute Ginger could only stare, stunned to speechlessness. It was the first time he had seen a shark inside the lagoon, and his skin curled with horror at the realization that a few minutes earlier he must have been swimming about in close proximity to the monster. 'What are we going to do?' he cried in dismay.

  Shell-Breaker made a grimace. 'Me stay,' he said. `But the mako may not go for a week.'

  Shell-Breaker shrugged his shoulders. 'Me stay,' he repeated resolutely.

  Ginger looked back at the shark. Its back projected out of the water not ten feet from where he stood. The creature was so huge that it seemed almost to fill the pool inside the cave. In the confined space it looked larger than a whale. They were safe where they were, for the ledge was between two and three feet above water-level, but to put hand or foot in the water would obviously be committing suicide in a very unpleasant manner. '

  We're trapped,' thought Ginger, aghast. 'We're trapped as effectively as if the cave had closed up.' Which in a way was true. 'Why has the brute come in here?' he asked Shell-Breaker.

  `Big storm at sea, maybe hurricane,' replied Shell-Breaker. 'When big fella sea come fish swim in lagoon and stick head in hole.'

  `What can we do about it? You know more about this sort of thing than I do.'

  Shell-Breaker merely made another despairing gesture. `Me stay,' he said yet again.

  'Can't we kill it, or drive it out somehow?'

  Aue! No kill. Outside plenty water, me kill. In cave, no kill. Mako plenty kai-kai me.'

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  Ginger stared again at the shark's huge dorsal fin, standing upright like the sail of a boat.

  'Heavens above, what will the others think when we don't go back?' he muttered.

  Full Moon squatted down on the coral. She picked up a loose piece and hurled it at the shark, screaming what was obviously an insult in her own language.

  The creature moved its great body languidly, showing the d
irty grey of its stomach.

  `Maybe you pray white man's god,' suggested Shell-Breaker thoughtfully.

  Ginger said nothing. He was thinking. He saw the mauve tint of the water deepening and knew that the sun had nearly set. He visualized the others coming to look for them, searching the island from end to end, but there was nothing he could do to relieve their anxiety. At first he found himself regretting that be had not told Biggles about the grotto, but on second thoughts he was glad he had not, for in that case Biggles would certainly have sought them there and, not knowing the cause of the delay, would have encountered the shark.

  Ginger had been in many difficult and dangerous situations, but he could not imagine anything more fantastic than the one in which he now found himself. He had been locked up more than once, but never before had watch been kept by such a terrible guardian.

  The thought that appalled him was that the shark might stay there for days, a week, or even longer, in which case they were all likely to starve to death, for there was no question of entering the water while the shark was there. In the fast-fading light he saw that there was now a definite movement in the pool, which previously had been absolutely motionless. The water surged to and fro with a regular movement that could only mean that a big sea was running outside. 'I think you are right about the storm,' he told Shell-Breaker.

  `Storm pass, mako go,' replied Shell-Breaker briefly. `How long do you think the storm will last?'

  `Two day—three day—maybe.' Shell-Breaker held up all his fingers. He seemed resigned to their predicament.

  Ginger leaned back against the wall of the grotto and watched Full Moon relieving her feelings by pelting the shark with lumps of coral; but the great fish did not seem to mind in the least. Swiftly it grew dark. They were, of

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  course, without any means of illumination, so it was now certain that they would have to remain in the cave all night at any rate, for even if the shark departed they would have no means of knowing it until daylight came again. The darkness was intense. The only sound was the eerie gurgling of the rising and falling water. At last Ginger sat down and cupped his chin in the palms of his hands, prepared to pass what he suspected was likely to be the longest night of his life.