They converged on him at once and took up formation, while Biggles, feeling, suddenly weary, set a course for Salima.
When, in the swiftly fading desert twilight, he got back to the base, he was not a little surprised to see a Lysan-der standing in the lengthening shadows of the palms on the edge of the landing ground. After landing he taxied over to it, and jumped down to meet a drill-clad figure wearing the badges of rank of a Group Captain. He recognized one of the senior Operations officers of R.A.F. Headquarters, Middle East.
Biggles saluted. 'Good evening, sir.'
The Group Captain returned the salute. "Evening, Bigglesworth. I've just run down to see how you're getting on. The Air Vice-Marshal is getting a bit worried about his route. He has just learned that von Zoyton and his staffel are somewhere in this region.'
'We discovered that too, sir,' answered Biggles, smil-ing. 'But I think we can use the past tense. The last time I saw von Zoyton, less than an hour ago, he was standing on a sand dune near Oasis Wadi Umbo looking fed up to the teeth.'
The Group Captain stared. 'You mean—you've actually seen him?'
Biggles grinned. 'You bet we have. And he's seen us—hasn't he, chaps?' Biggles glanced round the circle of officers, all of whom had now returned to the oasis.
Understanding began to dawn in the Group Cap-tain's expression. His eyes twinkled. '
What was von Zoyton fed up about?' he inquired.
Biggles lit a cigarette. 'Well, in the first place, we had just had a spot of argument, and he got the worst of it. On top of that my boys had made a bonny bonfire of his base. I don't think he'll be using it again for some time; in fact, I don't think anybody will. The survivors have pulled out in what remained of their surface craft, heading north. You can tell the Air Vice-Marshall that as far as hostile aircraft are concerned his blistering route is okay.'
'Good work!'
'It was hot work—in more senses than one,' returned Biggles, dryly.
'And you left von Zoyton standing in the desert?' did, sir.'
'You might have had a shot at him.'
Biggles made a gesture of annoyance. 'So I might! Do you know, sir, I clean forgot.'
The Group Captain laughed. 'Same old spirit. Well, there's something to be said for it.
You're a funny fellow, Biggles.'
'Maybe you're right, sir,' returned Biggles. 'But if you don't mind me saying so, this hell's kitchen is fast ruining my sense of humour. Now the job's done, perhaps the Air Vice-Marshal will find us a station where the grass grows green and the fruit doesn't come out of cans.'
'I'm sure he will,' declared the Group Captain.
'In that case, sir, you won't mind if we throw a little celebration? If you're not in a hurry to get back, how about being our guest?'
The Group Captain looked round the ring of weary, grimy, sun-tanned faces.
'The honour's mine,' he said.
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26 Biggles Sweeps The Desert Page 17