06 Biggles Hits The Trail

by Captain W E Johns

  'Absolutely,' declared Ginger.

  'Thank you,' bowed Biggles. 'Very well; so if we're going to do anything at all, it is obvious that we must lay low these swipes who are going to upset the civilized apple-cart. Having done that, we return home, having spent a lot of money, and wasted a lot of time, all for nothing.'

  'I shouldn't call saving the world nothing,' protested Dickpa.

  'But what recompense do we get? Who's going to believe it? No! I defy anybody to disprove that if and when we reach home, we shall be precisely the same as when we started, except that Malty's bank balance will have had a nasty crack.'

  'The ideal thing seems to be to smite these swipes, and take home a load of radium as well,' suggested Ginger. 'What's wrong with that ?'

  'Nothing. Nothing at all,' replied Biggles. 'In fact it looks to me as if you've hit the original nail on its benign head.

  Good for you, kid. That's it; we do both. Strike the swipes and collar the works.'

  `You've sure said a mouthful,' declared Ginger approvingly.

  `Maybe,' admitted Biggles. 'I've said it, but saying isn't enough. How are we going to do it, that's what I want to know? Both propositions seem to present a certain amount of difficulty.'

  'Well, let's get some radium for a start. While we're doing that we can think of a way to choke off the Chungs,' suggested Algy, who was gazing across the rocky panorama in the direction of the Mountain of Light.

  'Get some radium – how ?'

  Algy pointed to the mountain.

  Biggles jumped up and stared at the mile or so of forbidding landscape that separated them from their objective. It consisted of a series of razor-edged ridges, divided by screes of loose shale and masses of fallen rock, that formed a sort of connecting link between the mountain on which they stood and a point about three parts of the way up the Mountain of Light. 'I wonder if it could be done,' he said thoughtfully. 'It wouldn't exactly be a pleasure hike. D'you happen to know if it's possible to reach the mountain from here, Mac?' he asked.

  'I don't know; I've never tried, and I've never heard of anyone else trying.'

  'Should we be likely to barge into any Chungs?'

  'Nay, ye wouldn't do that. No one is allowed to set foot on the mountain.'

  'Then how do they get the radium?'

  'From the inside. They've tunnelled right into the heart of it. It's friable stuff on the outside, not half so good as the core.'

  `Then we might try it,' declared Biggles. Ìf we succeeded, than we should at least have accomplished something. But before we go, I'd like to have a look round to get our general bearings. Can we see the town from anywhere up here ?'

  `You can, from the dam.' McAllister pointed to a level step of rock about a quarter of a mile away towards which a vague path wound a sinuous course by the edge of the lake, which was not a lake in the ordinary sense of the word in that there was no suggestion of a beach. The water was held between banks of rock that shelved in some places, and rose sheer in others. In fact, it looked just what it was, a great volume of melted snow-water, pent up by artificial means.

  Biggles looked at the path, and then at the dam. Ì'd like to have a look at the place,' he told McAllister, but we'd better not all go.'

  Ìt's time Mac was having another injection,' Malty warned him.

  'He can have it when we come back,' replied Biggles. 'I want him to come with me and show me the layout of the place. The rest of you had better remain on guard. In any case, either Algy or myself should always be with the machine, in case of trouble. If there is anything worth looking at from the dam you can take it in turns to go and look. But we're not out of the wood yet, remember. Come on, Mac, let's go and have a look at the old home town.'

  They set off along the rocky pathway, picking their way with care, for there were many places where a fall would have meant a broken limb, if nothing worse. Twenty minutes'

  hard going brought them to the nearest point of the dam, and as he reached it, Biggles stepped back hastily. `My gosh!' he ejaculated, as he found himself gazing down a sheer drop of some three to four hundred feet. `This is certainly no place to play blind man's buff.' He pointed to the sheer face of the

  darn, which was built of great blocks of stone fitted together without mortar or cement.

  Who was responsible for that not inconsiderable feat of engineering?' he asked. 'If we'd built it we should call it one of the wonders of the world,' he added.

  'Nobody knows,' replied McAllister. 'The thing dates back to pre-Chung days, although the Chungs have added to it. It used not to be so high as this, but once or twice after a quick thaw the reservoir overflowed, so the Chungs had to raise it. I believe that has happened two or three times; the Chungs were always a bit nervous about it.'

  'Which I can well believe,' said Biggles slowly. 'It would be what you might call a wet night for anybody who happened to be down below if the water got out of hand – eh ?'

  McAllister nodded. Yes,' he agreed. 'Noah's flood would be a puddle compared with it.'

  'That's what I was thinking,' observed Biggles reflectively, lying down to get a nearer view of the face of the dam. It dropped into a dank, sunless gorge which, a few hundred yards farther on, opened out into a round crater-like depression, not unlike the one in which the entrance to the cave of centipedes was situated, but much larger. On the rising ground on the far side was the town, which, in its erratic conception, reminded him of an illustration he had seen, as a small child, of a city of gnomes in a book of fairy tales.

  There appeared to be no streets, the houses being dotted about at all angles wherever space could be found for them, in typical Oriental fashion. In fact, the only difference between this and the other small eastern towns he had seen was in the material of which the houses were built. As McAllister had said, everything was constructed of a dull brownish-yellow glass-like substance on which, at certain angles, the sun glinted brightly. One or two people, clad in the regulation blue overalls, could be seen moving about.

  McAllister raised a finger and pointed. 'That circular thing over there, like a small gasometer, is the varnish tank,' he said.

  `Where is the power-station?' asked Biggles.

  `You can't quite see it from here. You notice how the base of the Mountain of Light comes down there on the left, right into the crater ?'

  `Yes.'

  `Well, the entrance is just round the corner there. It is, as I believe I've told you, actually in the mountain; and considering that is where the power is drawn from, it is the most natural place for it to be.'

  'Is the entrance right at the bottom or some way up?' `Right at the bottom; it's much lower than the town.' Biggles thought for a moment. 'I see,' he said slowly. `What are you thinking about?' asked McAllister

  curiously.

  Oh, nothing very much,' replied Biggles casually. 'Well, there doesn't seem to be anything much to look at; let's be getting back.'

  Hardly a word was spoken during the return journey. Biggles was deep in thought, and McAllister, after a glance or two at him, decided that it would be better not to interrupt.

  CHAPTER 12

  BIGGLES DISAPPEARS

  `Dons anybody know the time?' asked Biggles, as they rejoined the others. 'My watch seems to have gone crazy since we came here.'

  `So have the others, I'll bet,' smiled McAllister. 'You're too near the mountain. Your watch has become magnetized; you'll be able to get it de-magnetized when you get home, but it'll never be much more use.'

  `So that's another item we've got to chalk up against the mountain, is it?' growled Biggles, glancing at the sun. `No matter; it isn't important. I should say it's about half-past one. What about this trip to get some radium?'

  Ì'm all in favour of it,' declared Algy.

  `Very well. Then the sooner somebody has a shot at it, the better – before the Chungs have another crack at us. They're not likely to just sit quietly at home and let us wander about. as we like. I think Ginger and I had better go.'

/>   `Can't I come?' asked Algy, in a disappointed tone.

  `Sorry, laddie, but I think it would be a tactical error. Suppose anything happened to us?

  I'm not suggesting that it will – but it might. How are the others going to get home?

  Ginger might be able to fly them back, but with all due respect to his ability, to expect him, with only a few hours' solo logged, to take a big machine like the Explorer all the way to England, would be unfair both to him and his passengers. No, if you don't mind, Ginger and I will go alone. I suggest taking Ginger because he is nimble, and the trip is going to be a tricky one if I know anything about it.

  We'll take a kit-bag with us to put the stuff in — if we get any. Has anybody any other suggestion to make?

  `That's that, then,' he continued, as there was no reply to his question. 'Ginger, get a kit-bag out of the machine, and the two revolvers. We shall have to leave the guns here, in case the Chungs try anything. Keep your eyes skinned, Algy. I don't trust them a yard. If it wasn't for this invisibility trick, we could hold the pass indefinitely; as it is, anything might happen.' He looked at the mountain, and the route they would have to take to reach it. 'We shall be gone between two and three hours, as near as one can tell, but don't get upset if we're longer,' he concluded. With a wave of his hand, he started off along the rocky causeway, with Ginger following close behind.

  For the first few hundred yards the going was easy, and they made good progress, but as the ridges became steeper they were compelled to exercise more caution. Once they were confronted by what at first appeared to be an unscalable gulch, but by hard and rather heady work they succeeded in reaching the opposite side.

  'I didn't think it was as bad as this,' confessed Biggles, as he lay panting on a wind-worn slope after a straight climb of forty feet along the edge of a crevasse. 'We ought to have brought the rope,' he declared.

  'We haven't got it. Algy left it in the gorge,' Ginger reminded him.

  `Yes, that's true,' nodded Biggles, rising and gazing across a terrifying scree that sloped down at an angle of forty-five degrees for a thousand feet or more. 'It looks as if one loose stone here might start a landslide of considerable dimen-lions,' he observed anxiously. 'Take it easy, and test every rock before you trust your weight on it.'

  They went on again, feeling their way slowly and leaning well in towards the face of the slope. As careful as they were, small pieces of rock broke off from time to time and went bounding and crashing down into the depths, but after ten minutes of nerve-trying labour, during which time neither of them spoke, they reached easier country again.

  `That's the worst of limestone,' muttered Biggles, looking back over the path they had just traversed. 'It looks safe but it's as rotten as tinder. Treacherous stuff.'

  `Look, there's the lake,' cried Ginger.

  `By Jove, so it is,' answered Biggles. 'It isn't more than a quarter of a mile away, either, and looks fairly easy to reach from here. I wish I'd known it. We could have taxied across, landed over there, and saved ourselves a lot of trouble. We shall know in future.

  Come on, let's keep going. My gosh! look at that, though!' He had taken a pace forward, but stopped dead as a new hazard, made apparent by the different angle from which they were now approaching, loomed up.

  Their objective was now within easy reach, connected to the rock on which they were standing by a bow-shaped, serrated ridge; but on the left, between the mountain and the lake, was a colossal spur. At one time it had obviously been part of the mountain, but erosion or an earth tremor had torn it away from its parent, so that it became a separate mass of rock, balanced on a wholly inadequate foundation and leaning far over towards the lake. From the aeroplane, the dividing cleft had been hidden behind the spur so that the mountain appeared to be one solid mass, but from their new view-point, the real state of affairs was disclosed.

  `My goodness! did you ever see anything like that ?'

  whispered Ginger. 'It looks as if a shove would send the whole thing crashing over.'

  Biggles eyed the mighty mass of rock apprehensively. 'It looks as if it would fall if you breathed on it,' he muttered. `By heaven, did you see that? It actually sways in the breeze. I swear I saw it move.'

  Ginger turned pale, and regarded the pile fearfully. 'And we've got to pass it, too,' he whispered.

  `We have – if we're going to the mountain,' declared Biggles. 'I don't think we need worry, though. It may have been standing like that for years for all we know, and may go on standing for more years. It will come down one day, of course, but it would be a bit of bad luck if it chose the very moment that we were passing, wouldn't it?'

  `You're right – it would – for us,' agreed Ginger fervently. `With a hundred thousand tons of rock on us, we should take a bit of finding.'

  Ìt won't fall this way in any case,' said Biggles thoughtfully. 'It will go the way it is leaning, which is towards the lake. And it would about half fill it, too. Still, if you're nervous, you stay here,' he suggested.

  `What! me stay behind? Not likely.'

  `That's the spirit; well, let's push on: we haven't far to go.'

  Without another glance at the towering rock they went forward again, crossed the saddle-backed ridge, where a false step would have hurled them to certain death, and at the end of ten minutes stood on the broad flank of the Mountain of Light.

  `Where do we start collecting radium?' asked Ginger. `This rock all looks alike to me.'

  Ànd to me,' admitted Biggles. 'We want to make sure of getting the right stuff. We should look fools if we carted a load of ordinary rock home, shouldn't we? Let's go on a bit.

  Look out - mind that hole.' He pointed to a round hole about the size of a small table-top that lay in Ginger's path.

  They passed on, examining the rock as they went, and saw several more holes. Biggles stopped near one of them. 'What are these things?' he said curiously. 'They look as if they might be the burrows of some whacking great animal.' Casually, he picked up a piece of rock and tossed it in. For two or three seconds there was silence, and then they heard it clatter far down in the heart of the mountain. As it struck they looked at each other, both a trifle pale.

  'What do you make of that?' asked Ginger.

  'I don't know,' replied Biggles slowly, 'but it looks to me as if they might be sort of ventilation holes - blow holes; something to do with the power-station underneath, perhaps. Hark, can you hear anything - a sort of distant hum?'

  'Yes, I can hear it distinctly,' cried Ginger. 'It sounds like an engine running.'

  'That's what I thought,' returned Biggles. 'I don't think much of this. The sooner we get back to the lake the happier I shall be. Let's get some of this radium stuff and go. That's it over there, isn't it? I can see it glowing, even in daylight.' He pointed to a face of rock a few yards away. 'Stand fast, I'll get some,' he cried, and started towards it; but at the second step he stopped dead and stared at the ground. 'Ginger,' he said, in a strained voice, 'this place sounds hollow to me. I believe we're standing on nothing more than a thin crust. You can hear it ring - hark!' He raised his foot and brought his heel sharply on the ground. There was a hollow booming sound, quickly followed by a loud snap, and then, like thin ice on which a heavy weight had been dropped, the whole surface of the rock caved in.

  He made a desperate effort to save himself. As he felt the ground giving under his feet, he flung himself sideways, and

  did actually succeed in clutching the edge of the fracture. For a second he clung to it with his fingers, trying to haul himself over the lip ; but the whole piece broke away in his hands, and he plunged downwards into utter darkness.

  Ginger, ashen faced, watched the earth literally open and swallow him up, but it took some seconds for the full horror of the calamity to penetrate into his stunned brain, so sudden had it been. Trembling like a leaf, he lay flat and wormed his way to the very edge of the hole, and at once, with a sharp intake of breath, saw what had happened. As Biggles had said, they had bee
n walking on a crust, a thin shell of rock not more than two inches in thickness. Somewhere in the depths rocks were still rolling. Biggles ! ' he shouted hoarsely. There was no reply. Biggles ! ' he yelled again desperately, but there was no answering hail. Slowly the rocks stopped falling, and all was silent.

  How long he lay and stared into the black mouth of the hole he could not afterwards remember, but it must have been for some time, for when at last he wriggled away to solid ground and rose to his feet the' sun was sinking behind the mountains.

  Suddenly making up his mind, he turned his back on the scene of the tragedy and set off at a steady run towards the lake.

  When Biggles felt the rock break away in his hands he gave himself up for lost, but as often happens in such cases, a hundred thoughts flashed through his racing brain. Para-mount was anger with himself for the folly of the action that, in a moment of thoughtlessness, had resulted in the accident. As he fell, he instinctively covered his face with his arms and braced himself for the coming shock.

  It came sooner than he expected. The distance he fell sheer was not, he judged, much more than twenty feet, but he landed on a steeply sloping plane, and before he could steady himself he was rolling over and over with a mass of detritus farther down towards the heart of the mountain, grabbing wildly about him for anything that would check his wild progress. Several times his hands came into contact with solid rock, but in spite of his utter disregard for torn fingernails, he could find no projection sufficient to arrest his fall. His last • sensation before losing consciousness was that he was being stoned to death. Something struck him a violent blow on the head; a constellation of brilliant orange stars, fading slowly to crimson, soared before his eyes, and he knew no more.

  His first conscious thought, as he came round, was a dreadful conviction that he was blind. He could not recall what had happened, but he knew that he had opened his eyes; yet he could not see. Everything was as black as the tomb. He tried to get up, but a great weight was pressing on his chest. For a moment he struggled, and then, in a flash, he remembered. Stiffly he pushed aside the debris that was half smothering him, sat upright, and felt in his pocket for matches.