They were in evil case by the time they reached the plateau, for they had been given only a little maize bread and water, barely enough to support life. The stench of the stone building, little better than a cattle-pen, into which on arrival they were herded with the other slaves, all Indians or half-castes, nearly made Ginger sick. Life under such conditions would, he thought, soon become intolerable.
Tired as they were, sleep was out of the question, and they squatted miserably in a corner, waiting for daylight. At dawn the door was opened by a man who carried a heavy whip; behind him were six other men carrying rifles. A quantity of food, in the nature of swill, was poured into a trough; upon this the slaves threw themselves like animals, eating ravenously with their hands, scooping up the foul mixture in cupped palms. The three white men took no part in this performance.
A few minutes only were allowed for this meal, after which the gang was formed into line and made to march past a shed from which picks and shovels were issued. Thus equipped, they went to what had once been the main street of the village, where a shallow trench had been opened. The gang-boss cracked his whip and the slaves started work, deepening and extending the trench.
`What do you suppose we're doing?' asked Ginger, getting into the trench behind Algy.
`Probably laying the telephone,' returned Algy sarcastically. `Ha, ha,' sneered Ginger. '
Very funny.'
The gang-boss advanced, brandishing his whip. 'No talking,' he snarled.
Ginger drove his pick viciously into the sun-baked earth, and thereafter for a while work proceeded in silence.
`Here comes the Tiger,' murmured Algy presently.
Ì'll tear the stripes off his hide one day,' grated Eddie. 'They can't do this to me.'
Ìt seems as though they're doing it,' grunted Algy.
Ginger went on working. There was no alternative, for he had no wish to feel the whip across his shoulders.
A few minutes later, standing up to wipe the, perspiration out of his eyes, he noticed something. It was nothing spectacular. He had already realised, from the nature of the ground, which consisted largely of broken paving-stones, that the trench was crossing the foundations of what must have been a large building. One or two of the supporting columns, although they had been broken off short, were still standing; one such column was only a few paces away on his right, and without any particular interest his eyes came to rest on it. They were at once attracted to a mark—or rather, two marks. At first he gazed at them without conscious thought; then, suddenly, his eyes cleared as he made out that the marks were initials.
There were two sets, one above the other. The lower ones had almost been obliterated by the hand of time, after the manner of an old tombstone, but it was still possible to read the incised scratches. They were the letters E.C., and were followed by the date, 186o.
There was no need for him to look closely at the date of the initials above to see that they were comparatively recent. The letters were L.R., and the date 1937. A suspicion, dim as yet, darted into Ginger's mind. He threw a quick glance at the gang-boss to make sure that he was not being watched, and then leaned forward to confirm that his reading of the lower initials had been correct. In doing this he put his hands on the end of a stone slab in such a way that his weight fell on it. Instantly it began to turn as though on a pivot, and he flung himself back with a gasp of fear, for he had a nasty sensation that he had nearly fallen into an old well. Another quick glance revealed the gang-boss walking towards him, so he went to work with a will, aware that he was slightly breathless.
The lash swished through the air, but without actually touching him. It was a warning, and he took it—at least, while the boss was within hearing. Then he spoke to Algy, who was working just in front of him.
Àlgy,' he whispered, 'you remember Biggles talking about a treasure supposed to have been discovered in these parts by a fellow named Carmichael?'
`Yes.'
`What was his Christian name, do you remember?'
`No—why?'
`Do you remember the date?'
Yes—1860.'
"Then this is where Carmichael came. I've just seen his mark. Go on working—don't look round.'
Ginger now spoke under his arm to Eddie, who was behind him.
Èddie, you said you came here on a treasure-hunt?' `Sure I did.'
`There was a map, I believe?'
`That's right.'
`Who drew it?'
À guy named Roberts—Len Roberts.'
Ànd was there a date?'
`Sure. It was 1937. What's the idea? Do you reckon we're on a treasure-hunt now?'
Ì'm certain of it,' replied Ginger. 'You see that paper the Tiger is looking at? Does that look like your map?'
Ìt sure does.'
`Then it's the treasure we're after. We're driving a trench right across the area where it is supposed to be.'
At this point, much to Ginger's disgust, further conversation was interrupted by an Indian, who dropped into the trench between him and Eddie.
`Here, you, get out of the way,' grunted Ginger, hoping that the man would understand what he meant.
`Go on digging,' answered a voice quietly.
Ginger started violently, and nearly dropped his pick. His nerves seemed to twitch, for there was no mistaking the voice. It was Biggles.
`Go on digging,' said Biggles again. 'Don't look round. Tell Algy I'm here.'
Ginger, who seemed slightly dazed, passed the incredible information on to Algy, first warning him to be ready for a shock. He then worked in silence for a little while, watching the guards.
Choosing a favourable moment, he snatched a glance behind him under his arm. 'How did you get here?' he whispered. `Never mind that—I'm here,'
breathed Biggles. 'Did I hear you say something about a treasure?'
`Yes, I reckon we're digging for it.'
`What makes you think so?'
`Take a look at that column on your right. Carmichael's initials are on it, and the date, 186o. Those above are those of the chap who made the map that brought Eddie here. He'
s the fellow behind you. Incidentally, he is one of the party of missing Americans Carruthers told us about. His partners abandoned him in the forest—they're the two fellows over there with the Tiger. He was caught by the Indians, and Bogat captured us together. Can you get us out of this jam?'
`That's what I'm here for.'
`Then for the love of Mike do something.'
`Don't be in a hurry,' said Biggles softly, pretending to work. Ì'm thinking. You go on as if nothing unusual had happened.' `How did you know we were here?'
Ì found Dusky, and he trailed you. He's back in a ravine waiting for us. Don't talk any more now, or that big stiff with the whip may get suspicious.'
Nothing more was said. The only sounds were the thud of picks, the scrape of shovels, the grunts of the slaves and the cracking of the whip.
Biggles considered the question of escape from every angle before making up his mind, but in the end he determined to act forthwith. There was no point in delaying the action, for the position was not likely to alter before sunset, and he had no intention, if it could be avoided, of passing the night under lock and key. In any case, he thought there might be an evening roll call, in which case the discovery of an extra man would be inevitable.
He told Algy, Ginger and Eddie to draw closer together so that they could hear what he had to say without making it necessary for him to raise his voice. He still knew practically nothing about Eddie apart from what Ginger had said, but it was obvious that he was a prisoner like the rest, in which case he would be anxious to escape. Apart from that, he would be an extra man on his side.
`Listen,' he said. 'We shall have to make a dash for it. There's no other way that I can see.
We've got two useful factors on our side. The first is surprise—you can see from the way the guards are standing that the last thing they imagine is that they will be attacked. The second factor is my automatic.
I'm afraid I shall have to use it. This is no time for niceties. This is what I'm going to do, and what I want you to do.'
Here Biggles had to pause and make a pretence of scraping earth from the bottom of the trench while the gang-boss went past. As soon as the man was out of ear-shot he continued:
`The next time those two nearest guards come this way I shall jump out of the trench and cover them with my gun to make them drop their rifles. If they refuse, I shall shoot.
Either way, you'll grab the rifles and open fire on the other guards along the line. Don't get flustered. Be sure of hitting your man. In this way we ought to put four of them out of action before the others guess what's happening. If I know anything about it, when we start shooting they'll run.'
`What about the Tiger?' asked Ginger.
`Never mind about him for the moment. Having got the weapons, we'll fight a rearguard action to the top of Jacob's Ladder. If we can reach it, the rest should be easy. It that all clear?'
The others, including Eddie, announced that it was.
`Then stand by,' whispered Biggles tersely. 'The guards are coming this way. Remember, speed is the thing.'
The two guards to whom Biggles had referred, both half-castes, were walking slowly along the line of workmen. Strolling would perhaps be a better word. Hand-made cigarettes hung from their lips. One carried his rifle carelessly in the crook of his arm; the other held his weapon at the trail; and it was clear from their careless manner that they did not expect trouble. Thus does familiarity breed contempt, and Biggles judged correctly when he guessed that the men had performed their task every day for so long that they no longer apprehended, danger. They
sauntered along, smoking and chatting, throwing an occasional glance at the labourers.
Biggles stooped a little lower in the trench, gripped his automatic firmly, finger on trigger, and waited.
He waited until they drew level. Then with a quick movement he stepped out in front of them, the pistol held low down on his hip.
`Drop those guns,' he rasped.
Never was surprise more utter and complete. The behaviour of the guards was almost comical. First they looked at Biggles's face, then at the pistol, then back at his face, while their expressions changed from incredulity to fear. Neither spoke. One of them dropped his rifle; or rather, it seemed to fall from his nerveless hands. The other made a quick movement as though he intended shooting. Biggles did not wait to confirm this. His pistol cracked, and the shot shattered the man's arm. The rifle fell, and he fled, screaming. This, the opening operation, occupied perhaps three seconds, and as it concluded Algy and Ginger played their parts. In a moment they had snatched up the fallen rifles and opened fire on the two guards next along the line. One spun round and fell flat. The other made a leap for the trench, but stumbled and fell before he reached it, the rifle flying from his hand.
`Come on,' snapped Biggles, and sprinted towards the spot.
The four white men had almost reached the second pair of rifles before the full realisation of what was happening penetrated into the minds of the other people on the plateau—the Tiger, his two white conspirators, his bodyguard, the two remaining guards, and the slaves. An indescribable babble, like the murmur of a wave breaking on shingle, rose into the still air. Then, abruptly, it was punctuated by shots from several directions.
Some of them came near the fugitives, but none of them was hit. Biggles saw a workman drop.
While Eddie picked up the two rifles he looked round and saw that the situation had changed but little. The two remaining guards had run for some distance; then, taking cover, they had started firing. The Tiger was shooting with a revolver and shouting orders at the same time, and the uproar he created was hardly calculated to encourage his bodyguard to take careful aim. They were shooting, but with more speed than accuracy. The two renegade white men were firing their revolvers, but the range was too long for accurate shooting.
Àll right,' said Biggles crisply. 'Let 'em have it.'
Four rifles spat in the direction of the Tiger's party. One of the bodyguard fell; all the rest dived for cover, and disappeared behind the house.
`Start moving towards the stairway,' ordered Biggles. 'I'll cover you.'
He knelt down and opened a steady fire on the building behind which the Tiger and his party had taken refuge, while under his protective fire the others hurried towards Jacob's Ladder.
So far Biggles's plan had worked without a hitch, and it seemed as if the stairway would be reached without difficulty, and without serious danger. But, unfortunately, the man who had been on guard at the head of the steps, and who had disappeared at the first shots, now came back, and kneeling behind a boulder, opened a dangerous fire.
Biggles had assumed, naturally, that the man had bolted, but hearing the shots he looked round quickly and realised what had happened. He did not waste time wondering why the man had returned; he was concerned only with the danger he represented.
Biggles dashed on after the others. 'We shall have to work round that chap,' he said curtly. Àlgy, come with me. We'll go to the left. The others go to the right. We'll get him from the flank.'
But before this manoeuvre could be made, a new factor arose, one that instantly made Biggles's scheme impracticable. He realised why the guard, who had bolted down the steps, had returned. He had not come back alone. At the top of Jacob's Ladder now appeared Bogat, and behind him nearly a score of armed men.
They took in the situation at a glance, and spreading out, taking cover behind rocks, effectually blocked the steps.
Biggles perceived that Bogat and his gang must have been actually coming up the steps all the time. It was unfortunate, but it couldn't be prevented. In any case, he was not to know it. It was one of those unexpected mischances that can upset the best-laid plan. To advance in the face of a score of rifles was obviously a hopeless proposition; nor could they remain where they were. In the circumstances he gave the only reasonable order, which was to retire.
`Get back to the village!' he shouted. 'We'll find cover in one of the buildings while we think things over. Keep together. Don't waste ammunition. Run for it.'
Dodging among the boulders, for shots were now whistling, they made a quick but orderly retirement to the buildings. It was fortunate that they had not far to go. Biggles selected a group of stone houses near the spot where, a few minutes before, they had been working.
`This will do,' he decided, and dived through the doorway to temporary safety. The others followed him.
Ànyone hurt?' he inquired.
Eddie had been slightly wounded in the forearm, that was all; he made light of it, and tore a strip off his shirt for a bandage.
`Sorry, chaps,' said Biggles apologetically. 'The show came unstuck. Bad luck we chose the moment that Bogat and his toughs were coming up the steps. Not being able to see through solid rock, I wasn't to know that. Still, I think we ought to be able to hold them off this place for some time--at any rate, long enough to enable us to work out a new plan. Keep watch through the windows, but don't show yourselves. Phew! Isn't it hot.'
Eddie drew his sleeve across his forehead. 'You're telling me.'
13
STRANGE EVENTS
FOR some time they kept careful watch, but saw nothing of the Tiger or his associates.
Sounds told them that the labourers had been herded back into their pen.
`What's going on, I wonder?' muttered Ginger at last.
Biggles answered. 'I should say that the Tiger, knowing we are on the plateau, has posted a strong guard at the head of the stairway. We are, he supposes, in a trap, and he has only to close the mouth of it to keep us in. Why should he hurry? He knows that we can't stay here indefinitely without food and water. No doubt he's watching the place from a distance. Then again, he may not be sure which house we are actually in, and doesn't feel like taking the risk of being shot in order to find out.'
`Did you come up the stairway?' asked Ginger.
`Not exac
tly,' returned Biggles. 'I came nearly to the top, but seeing a fellow on guard, made a detour and came in over the escarpment behind the village—at the back of those prickly pears.'
`Couldn't we get out that way?'
Biggles thought for a moment. 'Possibly. We could, of course, if no guards were posted, but I can't think that the Tiger would be such a fool as to shut the front door and forget to lock the back door—so to speak. The way I came must have been the way the Indians came when they chased us up the steps after we had escaped from the black panther. One thing is certain: it would be silly to try to get out of here in broad daylight. We'll wait for dark.'
It seemed a long wait—as indeed it was. Silence settled over the plateau. The sun struck down with bars of white heat. The only sound was the languid buzz of insects.
The shadows were lengthening when Ginger suddenly recalled the pivoting flagstone; he could see it from where he stood on guard at a window, not a score of paces away. In the rush of events following Biggles's arrival he had forgotten all about it.
`Here, Biggles,' he said, Ì've just remembered something.' In a few words he told the others of his curious discovery. `Sounds interesting,' was Biggles's comment.
`You mean, the treasure might be in there?' put in Eddie. Biggles had by this time learned who Eddie was, and how he came to be with the party.
Ìt might be, but, to tell the truth, I wasn't thinking about that,' answered Biggles. 'It would be useful, of course, to locate the treasure, although I don't think we're in a position to clutter ourselves up with it at the moment. Our job is to get out. What I was thinking was that under Ginger's slab there might be a tunnel leading to another part of the plateau. At any rate, if there is a cave or something there it ought to be worth exploring.'
`Now?' queried Ginger.
`No. We'll wait till it gets properly dark.'
'There's no need for us all to go,' remarked Ginger. 'I know just where the thing is. I could explore, and then come back and let you know what's inside—if there is an inside.'
`That's a good idea,' agreed Biggles. And so it was decided.
Night came. The moon had not yet risen, but the sky was clear, and the stars gave as much light as was necessary for the reconnaissance.
25 Biggles In The Jungle Page 11