Ì'm afraid it's going to be a bit difficult, if there is a cave, or something, to get an idea of it without a light,' Ginger pointed out. 'I've no matches. All our things were taken away from us.'
Ì've got some,' Biggles told him, remembering those which, with his cigarettes, he had put in his pocket. 'Take them, but go easy with them, and don't strike any in the open.'
Ginger took the box, and slipping through an opening that had once been a window, crept stealthily along a wall towards his objective, while the others covered his advance with their rifles. Hearing nothing, seeing no sign of life, pausing sometimes to listen, Ginger kept close against the wall until he reached the trench, which gave him all the cover he needed for the rest of his journey to the stone. Actually, there were several paving-stones, and in spite of his confidence, in the deceptive half-light he was some minutes finding the right one. It was an exciting moment when he felt it give under his weight, for, of course, he had not the remotest idea of what was underneath.
The stone moved slowly but easily; when the pressure was removed it swung back into place, and for this reason he was in some doubt as to how to proceed. He didn't like the idea of descending into the unknown without being quite certain that he would be able to get back. A closer examination revealed that the stone turned on a central pivot; for a primitive contrivance it was a beautiful piece of precision work, but before entering the void Ginger made sure of his exit by the simple expedient of fixing a loose piece of stone so that the slab could not entirely close. Then, rather breathless, he groped inside with his hands. He was not surprised when they encountered a step, also of stone.
If there was one, he reasoned, there should be more. And in this he was correct; but it was not until he was well inside that he risked lighting a match. He held his breath while it flared up, for he had no idea of what lay before him. He was prepared for anything.
Actually, the result of his first survey, while the match lasted, was rather disappointing.
As far as he could see, a flight of well-cut steps led down, perfectly straight, to a room, a chamber so large that he could not see the extremities of it. There was no furniture. The walls appeared to be bare. He went on to the bottom of the steps and lit another match.
In its light everything was exposed to view, and it merely confirmed his first impression.
He was in a large oblong room, the walls, floor and ceiling of which were of grey stone.
At one end, the end farthest from the entrance, three broad, shallow steps led up to a dais, in the manner of an altar, on which squatted a hideous idol. It appeared to have been carved out of the living rock. Ginger went over to it, and by the light of the third match looked at it again. The image leered down at him, and he felt suddenly cold. For how many hundreds of years, perhaps thousands, it had been there, leering in the darkness, he did not know, but the effect of extreme antiquity affected him strangely. He struck yet another match, but there was nothing more to be seen. There was no door or passage leading to another room. If the treasure was in here, he thought, then they had been forestalled. It was certainly not there now, although it seemed likely that it had teen there as late as 1937, or the explorer Roberts would not have carved his initials on the column.
It was a disappointing anti-climax, and feeling rather gloomy about the whole business, Ginger groped his way back up to the exit, from where, with due precautions, he returned to the house and told the others the result of his investigation.
`There's something funny about this,' declared Biggles quietly. 'Unless he was a first-class liar, Carmichael saw the treasure. So apparently did Roberts. Where has it gone? It seems very unlikely that anyone could have been on the plateau recently without the Tiger knowing about it, unless the explorers came as we did, by air, for they would have to come up Jacob's Ladder. Obviously, the Tiger didn't find the treasure, or he wouldn't be looking for it now—at least, I assume he's looking for it. I can't think what else he'd be looking for.'
`Just a minute,' put in Eddie. 'There was some writing in the corner of the map. I imagine Roberts wrote it.'
`What happened to this man Roberts?' asked Biggles curiously. 'Why did he dispose of the map? Why didn't he take the treasure?'
`His Indian porters deserted him. In fact, they tried to poison him.'
`So he couldn't carry the stuff?'
`That's right. It took him all his time to get back.' `But why didn't he return afterwards?'
`He died.'
`How did these crooked partners of yours get hold of the map?'
`They bought it off Roberts' widow—so they said.' Ànd this writing you just mentioned?'
Ìt was a list of instructions. I can't remember the words exactly, but there was something about a hinged stone-presumably the one Ginger discovered.'
`Roberts definitely saw the treasure—with his own eyes?' Òh yes. He brought a gold cup home with him.'
`Did you see it?'
`No. His widow sold it after he died.'
Biggles was silent for a moment. 'I should like to have a look at this place,' he announced.
`So should I,' said Eddie.
`Then let's all go,' suggested Biggles. 'We shall be no worse off there than we are here—
in fact, it might turn out to be a better hiding-place. If we could get hold of some food and water we could lie low there for week if necessary, in which case the Tiger might think we had in some way got off the plateau. Let's go. We can always come back if we don't like it. No noise. We'll go across one at a time. If we bump into trouble, rally here.
Ginger, you know the way, so you'd better go first.'
Ginger, employing the same tactics as before, returned to the underground chamber. The others followed in turn, Biggles bringing up the rear. Everything remained quiet—from Biggles's point of view, suspiciously quiet. In spite of what he had said about the Tiger holding them in a trap by simply putting a guard on the stairway, he thought it was odd that no attempt had been made to dislodge them from the block of buildings in which they had sought refuge. Still, he did not overlook the fact that four desperate white men, armed with rifles, made a formidable force to capture or shoot down by sheer frontal attack.
Before going down through the trap-door Biggles 'made a short excursion to collect some tufts of dried grass; then, after a final survey of the scene, he followed the others into the chamber and allowed the slab to sink slowly into place. As soon as he was inside he twisted the dried grass into a wisp—it could hardly be called a torch—and taking the matches from Ginger, set light to it. The grass blazed up brightly so that everything could be seen. Not that there was much to see.
Nobody spoke while the fire was alight. Biggles still had a little more grass, but as there seemed to be no point in burning it, he
held it in reserve.
`Well, that's that,' he murmured, sitting on the bottom step. `Did anyone notice anything interesting, or worth exploring?'
The others admitted that they had seen nothing worth mentioning.
`This is a funny business,' resumed Biggles. 'I still don't understand what became of the treasure.'
Ì wish I had the map,' remarked Eddie. 'There may have been something on it that I have forgotten. If there was, and the Tiger ever finds this place, he'll know just what to do.'
`Well, there doesn't seem to be much we can do,' returned Biggles.
Ginger started groping his way round the walls, knocking on the stones with his knuckles. 'They sound solid enough,' he observed.
.`Lumps of stone, weighing half a ton apiece, would sound solid, even it there was a cavity behind,' Biggles pointed out.
`What are we going to do?' asked Algy. 'I can't see any point in staying here.'
`There's not much point in going back to the house, if it comes to that,' answered Biggles.
'I don't want to be depressing, but I don't think we're in any shape to stay either here or in the house for more than another day. We might manage without food for a bit, but
we can't do without water. I'm afraid that sooner or later we've got to risk breaking through the cordon, either by rushing the steps, or trying to get out over the rocks, the way I came in. I'll tell you what. I'll go and have a scout round.'
`That sounds pretty dangerous to me,' muttered Eddie dubiously.
Biggles laughed mirthlessly. 'Whatever we do is likely to be dangerous. I'll go and make sure that the escarpment is guarded. Either way, I'll come back. If it isn't guarded we'll try to slip out.'
`Why not all go?' suggested Ginger.
`Because four people are more likely to be seen than one, and the chances of making a noise become multiplied by four. No, this is a one-man job. I don't suppose I shall be very long. Here,
Algy, you take the matches; you may need them.'
Biggles groped his way up the steps. There was a faint gleam of star-spangled sky as he went through the exit; then it was blotted out as the stone sank into place. Silence fell.
For a long time nobody spoke in the chamber. There seemed to be nothing to say—or it may have been that they were all listening intently for the first sign of Biggles's return. In such conditions it is practically impossible to judge time correctly, but when Biggles had been gone for what Ginger thought must be nearly an hour, he commented on it.
`He's a long time,' he said anxiously, almost irritably.
Ì was thinking the same thing,' admitted Algy. 'If Whatever he was going to say remained unsaid, for at that moment the silence was shattered by a deafening explosion. The chamber shuddered to the force of it. A moment later came the crash and spatter of debris raining down on the roof. It sounded like a roll of distant thunder.
Ginger flung himself flat, feeling sure that the whole place was about to collapse. This was purely instinctive, for he was beyond lucid thought. So were the others. The explosion would have been bad enough had it been expected, but coming as it did without warning, it was shattering. It took Ginger several seconds to convince himself that he had not been hurt. He was the first to speak.
Àre you fellows all right?' he asked in a strained voice. The others answered that they were.
`What on earth was that?' continued Ginger.
Ì don't know, but I'm going to find out,' replied Algy, groping his way up the steps.
Some time passed, but he did not speak again, although the others could hear him making strange noises. He seemed to be grunting with exertion.
`What's wrong?' asked Eddie.
`Plenty,' came Algy's voice in the darkness. 'Either some rocks have fallen on the slab or else the explosion has jammed it. It won't move.'
`You mean—we're shut in?' demanded Ginger.
`That's just what I do mean,' answered Algy, rather unsteadily.
Ginger squatted down on the stone floor. Not so good,' he remarked.
`What are you grumbling about? You wanted adventure,' Algy pointed out coldly. 'Now you're getting it. I hope you're enjoying it----but I'm dashed if I am.'
14
BIGGLES MAKES A CAPTURE
THE first thing Biggles noticed when he left the underground chamber was that the moon was rising over the edge of the plateau. He had no time to weigh up the advantages and disadvantages of this, for as, lying flat, he began to worm his way towards the trench, he distinctly saw a dark shadow flit silently away from the side of the house which they had recently evacuated. An instant later a low mutter of voices reached his ears, but precisely where the sound came from he could not determine. The conversation was soon followed by the sound of retreating footsteps. That something was going on seemed certain, but there was no indication of what it was. Fearing that he may have been seen, he lay still for a little while, trusting to his ears to advise him of danger; but when nothing happened he felt that it was time he continued his reconnaissance.
With eyes and ears alert for danger, he reached the nearest house, and taking advantage of the deepest shadows, went on towards the ridge of rock which he could see silhouetted against the sky beyond the village. He reached the outlying boulders without incident, and there paused to survey the skyline for any movement that would reveal the position of sentries. His vigilance was rewarded when he saw the glow of a lighted cigarette. It was stationary. This at once fixed the position of at least one sentry, and Biggles was about to move forward on a course that would avoid him when a faint smell, borne on a slant of air, reached his nostrils and brought him to an abrupt halt. It was vaguely familiar, but it took him a second or two to identify it as the reek of smouldering saltpetre. Instantly realising the significance of it, he half rose up and looked behind him; hoped to discover the source of it. The next moment a column of flame shot into the air; simultaneously came the roar of an explosion, the blast of which flung him headlong. Knowing what to expect, he lay still with his hands over his head while clods of earth and pieces of rock rattled down around him and the acrid tang of dynamite filled the air.
As soon as the noise had subsided he looked back at the spot where the explosion had occurred, and saw, as he already suspected, that it was the block of houses in one of which they had first taken cover. The buildings were now a heap of ruins. It was easy enough to see what had happened. The enemy, fearing to make a frontal attack, had entered one of the rear houses and destroyed the whole block with a charge of dynamite.
Naturally, Biggles's first reaction to this unexpected event was one of thankfulness that they had left the house, otherwise they must have all been killed. That the enemy assumed this to be the case was made apparent by the way they now advanced, with much laughing and talking, from several directions. The sentries on the escarpment left their posts and joined their companions at the scene of the supposed triumph. In a few minutes the shattered houses were surrounded by groups of figures, some of which, Biggles saw with misgiving, were very near the underground chamber.
He waited to see what they would do, for upon this now depended his own actions. He was not particularly concerned about the others, although he guessed that the explosion must have given them a nasty shock. Being underground, they would be safe. He was not to know that falling masonry had piled itself on the entrance slab, making the opening of it from the inside impossible. His one fear was that Algy and Ginger would emerge in order to see what had happened, and so betray the secret hiding-place—as, indeed, might easily have happened had it been possible for them to get out. Biggles was relieved when nothing of the sort happened.
The question now arose in his mind, would a search be made at once for the bodies which were supposed to be under the ruins, or would the Tiger wait for daylight? The answer was provided when the Tiger began shouting orders, and the crowd started to disperse. As far as Biggles could gather, the Tiger had merely dismissed his men without giving any hint of his future plans. A number of figures, presumably the Tiger's personal party, remained near the ruins, and had it not been for this Biggles would probably have returned to the chamber forthwith. He did, in fact, wait for some time with this object in view, but when the Tiger showed no signs of leaving, he decided that it would be a good moment, an opportunity that might not occur again, to make contact with Dusky, who, if he did not soon show up, would presently be leaving the ravine. So Biggles decided that he would go down to him, tell him what had happened, recover his Express rifle and some biscuits, and then, if the Tiger had gone, return to the chamber. He thought it ought to be possible to do this before daylight.
His mind made up, he struck off towards the clump of prickly pear in order to leave the plateau as near as possible to the spot by which he had entered it. He was not so optimistic as to hope that he would be able to find his track through the chaos of rock, but he had a pretty good idea of the general direction of the ravine, and once he reached it there should be no great difficulty in finding Dusky.
Actually, he was some time finding the ravine, for it was not an easy matter to keep a straight course through the bewildering jumble of boulders; and when he did strike it he saw that he was above the point where
he had left it. This did not worry him, however, and he started making his way towards the place where he imagined Dusky would be.
When he reached it the old man was not there. He whistled softly, but there was no reply.
Rather worried, he continued on towards the stairway, no great distance.
Had not he seen the moonlight glint on the barrel of the rifle there might have been an accident, for he realised suddenly that the rifle was covering him.
He dropped behind a rock. 'Is that you, Dusky?' he asked sharply.
`Sure, massa, dat's me,' answered Dusky with a gasp of relief. Ì sure nearly shot you,'
announced the old man with engaging frankness.
`What are you doing here?' asked Biggles.
`When I hear all dat shootin' and bangin' I reckon you ain't comin' back no more, so I was jest off to fetch massa Carruthers. I'd have gone down the steps by now if dat trashy king hadn't come along.'
`King?'
Dusky explained that a few minutes earlier he was. about to descend the stairway when he heard someone approaching, coming down the steps. Withdrawing into the ravine, he saw, or thought he saw, the Tiger, with only two men, go past.
Biggles perceived that if the king had left the scene of the explosion shortly after he himself had left, he would have had ample time to reach the spot. He thought swiftly, wondering how this new aspect could be turned to his advantage. If Dusky was right, then the Tiger had probably gone down to his palace—with only two men. If he could be captured, he would be a valuable hostage. With the king in his hands, he could dictate to Bogat and his crew. He remembered also that the Tiger had the treasure map, which was a valuable document for more reasons than one. If he captured the king he would also gain possession of the map. It was a tempting proposition, and the only doubt in Biggles's mind was what the others would think when he did not return. Still, he thought they ought to be able to take care of themselves. Making up his mind quickly he moved towards the steps.
25 Biggles In The Jungle Page 12