Biggles and Cruise of the Condor

by W E Johns

  'Here, my lad, you had better have a rope round you,' cautioned Dickpa. 'Algy, pass that rope along; this is no place for somebody to break a leg.'

  Biggles at first protested, but finally submitted to being tied round the waist with the rope they had brought with them, and they proceeded with Algy holding the other end. A few minutes later, Algy, who wanted to use both hands to manipulate his water-bottle, carelessly tied the rope around his own waist. They stopped at a fairly wide part of the cave to eat some food and take a rest, for the atmosphere was heavy and they were all nearly exhausted. They had lost all count of time and distance. Indeed, as Algy remarked, they seemed to have been walking along the passage not merely a matter of hours, but of days.

  The upward incline of the floor became even steeper soon after they had resumed their march, and all of them were soon feeling the strain.

  'Never mind, it's a long lane that has no turning,' panted Algy.

  'This must be the one the fellow who said that was thinking of,' gasped Biggles. 'Look-!' He broke off short with a sharp yell of fright. What came next occurred so suddenly that for a moment or two Algy could not think what had happened. He heard Biggles's startled cry and then he was whipped off his feet, knocking Dickpa sprawling as he fell. An invisible hand seemed to be dragging him along the floor of the cave. He grunted as Smyth flung himself upon him and the motion stopped. He raised his eyes, and then shuddered as he found himself staring into space. It was quite dark, but the sky was ablaze with stars. Then, as his muddled faculties began to work again, he looked down and saw Biggles about twenty feet below, dangling on the end of the rope over a sheer chasm, the bottom of which was lost in Stygian blackness. He was turning round slowly, like a joint on a spit, and then his voice came floating up to them.

  'Hi!' he called, staring up into Algy's startled face. 'Haul me up-the rope's going! Make haste!'

  Algy felt Dickpa's body kneeling beside him, and heard his swift, concise instructions.

  'Haul steadily, everybody, when I give the word. Smyth, slip your coat under the rope where it chafes on the edge of the cliff or the rock will cut it like a piece of cotton. Algy, crawl backwards as we heave, and hang on to anything you can reach; if he starts slipping, you'll both go. Now!' he yelled.

  Then followed a period of pulling and struggling, which to Algy seemed like a horrid nightmare from which he could not awake. From some distance down the cave he saw Biggles's face appear over the edge of the cliff; there was a quick scuffle, punctuated with gasps and grunts, and then Biggles fell headlong into the cave, where he lay breathing heavily.

  Algy, when the tension on the rope relaxed, sank limply to the floor; blood was running down his face from a nasty cut in his forehead, and his whole body ached with bruises from the battering it had received.

  'Why the dickens don't you look where you're going?' he snarled when he could get his breath.

  'If you think-I just-leapt-into space-for fun- you're wrong,' panted Biggles furiously. 'Holy mackerel! Brazil-where the nuts come from. Bah! where the mutts go to would be nearer the mark. What about a nice quiet evening listening in or something for a change? Where are we, anyway?'

  'Don't try and be funny,' growled Algy.

  'Funny! Ha, ha! If you think it's funny hanging suspended over nothing on a piece of string, you have a go at it. I'm no spider.'

  'Well, you said you wanted to see the sky; now you've seen it. What are you grumbling about? There it is,' concluded Algy airily, pointing towards the opening of the cave.

  'You went out so fast that you thundering nearly missed seeing it altogether,' observed Dickpa, who was lying at full length on the brink of the cliff cautiously trying to see if he could find a continuation of the path. 'I can't see anything except cliff,' he went on. 'We shall have to sit still and wait for daylight before we do anything else."

  'That suits me remarkably well,' agreed Biggles. 'I've had all the mountain climbing I want for one day. How often do they have earthquakes here?'

  'Why?'

  'I should hate another to come along and pitch us out of that hole,' replied Biggles. 'Has anyone got the time?'

  'You busted my watch when you slid out of the window,' stated Algy.

  'And I forgot to wind mine up,' announced Dickpa, 'but, judging by the position of the Southern Cross,* I should say it's well after midnight.'

  *The pole star of the Southern Hemisphere.

  'Roll on, morning,' murmured Biggles, settling himself down at full length and using a haversack for a pillow.

  Chapter 13

  Marooned

  They dozed fitfully on and off until a grey tinge, slowly turning to pink, diffused the sky. Presently a shaft of brilliant light caught a projecting ledge of rock, causing it to glow like a living flame.

  'Oh,' groaned Biggles, sitting up and stretching stiffly. 'Let us have a look-see,' he mumbled, crawling on all fours towards the oval-shaped section of light that marked the entrance-or rather the exit-of the cave. Lying flat on his stomach, he looked out over the edge, and the sight that met his gaze was so stupendous that in spite of their predicament he uttered a low cry of admiration.

  In front of them, level with their eyes, stretched an array of minarets of red rock, the tops glowing like points of orange fire in the light of the rising sun. Between them were deep wells of cold blue shadows in which soft, downy billows of mist hung motionless. Immediately below was a vast crater, the bottom of which was hidden under a curtain of purple shade, so profound and intense that it seemed possible to reach out and touch it. Biggles caught his breath as he stared unbelievingly. The scene was unreal, fantastic, as if they were looking at another world. A slight movement made him look up, and he half smiled when he saw the others crowding behind him, lost in wonderment at the glorious panorama. Something above, and slightly to one side, caught his eye, and his sharp ejaculation brought Dickpa forward, trying to ascertain the cause of it.

  'Steps!' said Biggles tensely. 'This is a way out after all, but, by the anti-clockwise propeller of my sainted aunt, it is a staircase that I, for one, am not anxious to tread. I don't mind looking down when I've got a couple of wings each side of me, but it is going to be heady work scaling that crazy gangway.'

  'Can you see where it leads to, or how far it extends?' asked Algy curiously.

  'No-hold my feet in case I slip-that's right. The steps start about half way up the side of the cave and wind round out of sight somewhere over the top. Well, wherever they lead to, we've got to follow them, but I don't mind admitting that we've got a bit too high up in the world for my liking. Who's going first?'

  'I'll go,' offered Dickpa promptly.

  'No, I'll go,' returned Biggles decisively. 'I'm the lightest. I'll rope myself up again, and you can brace yourself to take the strain of my fall in case I slip or the steps break down. I'll tell you what it's like as I go, and then you will know what to expect.'

  Without further ado, he fastened the rope tightly about his waist and, seizing a projecting crag, swung himself outwards and up. He was lost to sight instantly, and a short silence followed. A piece of rock bounced down, struck the lip of the cave, and bounded away into space; instinctively Algy listened for it to strike the bottom, but it might have fallen into a bottomless pit for all the noise it made.

  'Hullo, there!' came Biggles's voice from what seemed to be a great distance away. 'Can you hear me?'

  'Can — you — hear — me — you — hear — me — hear — me,' rang the echoes, becoming fainter and fainter in the distance.

  Dickpa cupped his hands around his mouth. 'Yes!' he answered.

  'Yes—yes—yes,' came the echoes.

  'Dash those echoes,' snarled Algy. 'They give me the creeps.'

  'Listen,' came Biggles's voice again. 'I'm at the end of the rope. Let it go. You can follow-it's quite safe- but don't look down. Come one at a time, because there is some loose rock about and someone might get a crack on the head. Bring the haversacks and what tools you can.'
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br />   'I'm coming!' shouted Algy, and rose to his feet. His face was rather pale as he seized the crag, swung outwards, and reached with his feet for the bottom step of the dizzy stairway. Following Biggles's instructions, he did not look down, but kept his eyes fixed upwards. At first he could only see a long, curving line of steps that disappeared against the skyline above a rounded dome, of rock, but as it mounted higher he saw that it led to a wide open space, with a large pyramid-shaped hill beyond. Biggles was sitting comfortably on a large square stone at the end of the stairway.

  Algy joined him breathlessly. 'By the bones of Icarus,' he muttered, 'I may be what the newspapers describe as a birdman, but I'm no steeple-jack; I wouldn't go down that path for something.'

  Biggles grinned. 'Nor I,' he said, 'not if a dozen Attaboys' treasures were at the bottom'; and then, raising his voice, 'Come on, the next!' he called.

  Presently Smyth's head appeared above the top of the rock and the mechanic threw himself down with a sigh of relief. 'Blimey,' he murmured, 'what's our ceiling* at this game? We've got a bit too much altitude for my liking, and the sooner we throttle back and lose a bit of it the better I shall be pleased.'

  * The top height to which a plane can fly.

  Biggles laughed. 'You're not the only one,' he said. 'Come on, Dickpa.'

  Dickpa, with his haversack held in his teeth, clambered over the brow of the cliff and sank down beside them. 'You were moaning for the blue sky a little while ago, Biggles. Well, now you can see it-all of it,' he observed, looking around at the scene of colossal grandeur. 'Hullo, what are you sitting on?' he went on quickly, noticing the rock on which Biggles was seated. He examined it closely, but it revealed nothing of particular interest, and he turned again to look at the place to which they had ascended.

  It was an open plateau about two miles long by a mile wide with a surface of flat rock in most places, but here and there a few stunted trees and bushes eked out a precarious existence in fissures that had been filled up with earth by the wind. Above them, on the far side of the plateau, towered the pyramid-shaped rock. It was clear that they were on the summit of one of the huge flat-topped masses of rock that are such a common feature in the Matto Grosso, and which had been caused, as Dickpa explained, by the subsidence of the surrounding earth, and not by the upheaval of the rock itself. 'The plateau was at one time level with the surrounding country,' he went on. 'You see, it's all volcanic; the colour of the rock tells you that. At some time in the past it has been subjected to terrific heat, perhaps more than once-but come on, let us walk round and see if we can locate ourselves or find a way down.'

  They set off at a steady pace along the edge of the cliff, and soon discovered they were overlooking the mountains on the opposite side of the cliff from where they had entered the cave. In several places the neighbouring peaks were only a short distance away-so close, in fact, that Algy was once able to throw a stone over the intervening abyss. But everywhere the cliff dropped absolutely perpendicularly, sometimes only a few hundred feet, but more often, two or three thousand feet, but in either case it was the same as far as they were concerned. There was not a single place where there was even a remote hope of getting down; no living creature could descend the precipitous wall. They had traversed more than half the circumference of the plateau, and were just beginning to abandon hope-for they knew there was no possible way down on the opposite side, except through the cave, which was now effectually blocked-when Biggles, who had hurried on ahead, uttered a wild 'Whoop' which brought the others on at a run. They joined him, and looked eagerly at a huge buttress of rock which jutted out some distance ahead, at about their own height, and seemed to be a sort of offset from one of the nearby mountains. It appeared to reach the plateau, but for some minutes they were unable to determine whether or not it did actually join up. In his impatience to find out, Biggles threw himself down near the edge of the cliff and peered along the side of it.

  He was on his feet again immediately. 'Nothing doing,' he said shortly, concealing his disappointment with difficulty, 'It doesn't quite reach; I can see daylight between.'

  They marched on in melancholy silence, for it began to look as if they had escaped death in one form only to meet it in another.

  'I've heard of people being marooned at sea, but never on land,' Biggles went on a few moments later, 'and the funny part of it is, I could land an aeroplane up here quite easily-in fact, it looks like a ready-made aerodrome. A machine taking off wouldn't have to climb for height; she'd just take off level and she'd have all the height she wanted right away. Well, we're up here and the plane's at the bottom, so it's no use talking about it, I suppose,' he concluded gloomily.

  But Dickpa was not listening. He had suddenly increased his pace, and then pulled up dead in his tracks. A low whistle escaped his lips. The others joined him, and stared in amazement at the sight which met their eyes.

  'You've told us many times, Dickpa, that anything can happen in Brazil,' said Biggles, 'but I'm dashed if I expected to find anything like this. It looks as if we've found the front door.'

  The object which riveted their attention would not have been remarkable in different circumstances, but it was the last thing any of them expected to find up there. While they were talking they had approached the giant buttress and actually reached it before they were aware that a bridge, about thirty feet wide, spanned the chasm at its narrowest point. It was formed of two whole, roughly squared up trees, laid side by side, without handrails or anything to prevent a careless traveller from stepping straight off into space. To make matters more difficult, one of the trees had slipped, so that it was lower at one end than at the other, and in fact only just resting lightly on the opposite cliff. It looked as if some convulsion of the earth had made the gap wider than it had been originally, for even the second tree only just reached the opposite side and looked as if a good push would send it off altogether.

  Biggles looked at Dickpa reproachfully.

  'I hope you're not going to tell me that I've got to walk across that thing,' he said slowly.

  Dickpa shrugged his shoulders. 'It looks as if it's either that or stay here,' he said tersely. 'Who's going first?'

  'Wait a minute, wait a minute,' exclaimed Biggles, 'I don't get the hang of all this. Here is a way up to the plateau, that's plain enough, and there was a way down via the cave. You don't tell me that people came across the mountains and across this crazy bridge just for the pleasure of going down again? No, they came up here for something, and it would have to be something pretty important to bring me up here. It looks to me as if this was the main entrance, and one that could be pretty easily closed, too.'

  'I believe you're right,' said Dickpa, thinking hard. 'It would be interesting to know what they came up here for.'

  'It would, but, not being a soothsayer, thought-reader, or what-not, I can't tell you. Does that look like a track across there, or do I imagine it?'

  The others followed his eyes, and saw a rough suggestion of a path leading right across the middle of the plateau on which they stood to the hill on the far side.

  'Yes, that's a path alright,' ejaculated Dickpa.

  'Very well,' said Biggles simply. 'Don't you think it would be a good thing to see where it leads to before we walk the plank? Since we started I've been shot at, shaken, scared stiff, bitten, stung, hung, buried alive, and goodness knows what else, so I for one am going to have a last look for what we came for. What say you, Algy?'

  'Every time,' agreed Algy warmly.

  'How about you, Dickpa?'

  'Of course.'

  'And you, Smyth?'

  'Tails up with me,' cried the mechanic, falling back on the old RFC* slogan.

  * Royal Flying Corps, the forerunner of the RAF.

  'Come on, then!' cried Biggles enthusiastically, and set off at a fast pace across the plateau, following the old trail which led from the bridge to the pyramid-like mass of rock on the far side.

  Its outline grew more rugged as they app
roached, and it had lost all resemblance to a pyramid by the time they reached its base. It proved to be, in fact, nothing more or less than a huge conglomeration of rock, roughly oval in shape, with a large crown-like peak at one end and a smaller crest at the other. Three sides of it sloped down steeply to the plateau, but the other, which they could not reach, seemed to fall to the sheer lip of the precipice. The trail did not lead straight up, but wound around the hill corkscrew fashion, and was by no means easy to follow. They crossed a small stone bridge over a ravine, and often ascended short flights of steps that had been cut in the most difficult places.

  It was now past midday, and the sun blazed down with fierce intensity, but, mopping their faces, they kept on. When they were about three-quarters of the way up, the reason for the winding of the trail became more apparent, for the sides of the hill sloped at such a steep angle in many places that it would have been difficult, if not impossible, to reach the summit by a straight path.

  Biggles, in his excitement, was well ahead of the others. They watched him break into a run up the last few yards and then stop with a jerk, at the same time throwing up his hands and staring downwards. For several seconds he remained thus; then he turned and beckoned frantically.

  'He's found something,' grunted Dickpa, and redoubled his efforts, all troubles forgotten.

  Biggles started down to meet them.

  'What is it?' called Dickpa, excited, while they were still some way off.

  'I'll give you two guesses!' shouted Biggles.

  ' What is it? repeated Dickpa, half angry at the delay.

  'A town.'

  'A what?'

  'Town!'

  'Town!'

  'Yes, town. T-o-w-n. In other words, a concentration of dwelling-houses, churches, squares, streets, and what-nots.'