by Enid Blyton
‘I’ll shout and see if those local children will come back,’ said Jack. So he called in a stentorian voice: ‘Hey, you kids! Come back! Come back, I say!’
‘Come back, I say!’ echoed Kiki, and ended with a screech that could surely have been heard half a mile away.
But no little band of local children came running up. Except for a bird that went on and on singing without a stop, there was hardly a sound to be heard.
‘What are we to do?’ said Jack anxiously. ‘There isn’t even a house in sight. Gosh, this is awful, Philip!’
‘What I’m afraid of is that darkness will fall suddenly, as it always does here,’ said Philip.
And, just as he said that, darkness did fall, like a black curtain! Now they were truly lost, and Lucy-Ann caught hold of Jack’s hand in fright.
‘What are we to do?’ she said. ‘What are we to do?’
14
Back to the boat
The four children stood in the darkness, hoping to see the stars shine out bright and clear. Then they might be able to see a little. But for once in a way it was a cloudy night, and only when the clouds parted could a few stars be seen.
Their eyes got used to the darkness in a little while, and they made a few steps forward. Then Jack thought he caught sight of something moving cautiously a short distance away.
‘Who’s there?’ he called at once. ‘Don’t come any nearer. Who is it?’
The shadow moved quickly forward, and knelt down at Philip’s feet. He felt two hands grasping his knees. It was Oola!
‘Oola here, boss,’ said a voice. ‘Oola follow, follow. Tala say no, not come, but Oola come. Oola guard you, boss.’
Such a wave of relief went over all four children that they could hardly speak!
‘Oola! Good gracious, you’re the last person we expected,’ said Philip gladly. He patted the boy’s head as he knelt. ‘Get up. We’re VERY glad to see you. We’re lost. Do you know the way back to the launch?’
‘Yes, boss,’ said Oola, delighted at the pat on his head. ‘Oola take you now. Follow Oola.’
‘Have you been behind us all the time, Oola?’ asked Lucy-Ann, astonished.
‘Yes, Missy, all time Oola follow, follow,’ said Oola, walking on ahead. ‘Oola guard his boss.’
Oola seemed to have cat’s eyes. He went forward without any hesitation, taking this path and that, and at last they came to the village, which now had fires alight, and looked rather mysterious.
The band of children came running up when they saw strangers walking through their village – but when they saw that it was the same children who had had the terrible snake, they ran away in fear, crying out loudly, ‘Bargua! Bargua!’
Philip stopped. He had seen the big boy who had acted as guide. He was standing some distance away, peering at them, lighted by the flames from a fire.
‘Oola – see that boy over there?’ said Philip, pointing. ‘Go give him this money.’
‘No! Boy not good!’ said Oola indignantly.
‘Oola, yes!’ said Philip, in a commanding voice, and Oola at once took the money and sped off to the boy. Judging by his angry voice, he was ticking the boy off well and truly – but he gave him the money all the same. The boy was delighted and ran into his house at once, calling out something in an excited voice.
‘After all, the kid did take us all the way to the old temple,’ said Philip, and the others agreed. ‘Whew! What a stir the snake made! I never dreamed that those kids would be so frightened.’
‘We’re going to get into a frightful row with Bill when we get back to the launch,’ said Jack gloomily. ‘He won’t like us being out in the dark like this.’
‘Let’s hope he won’t be back,’ said Dinah, who had no wish to make Bill annoyed again.
They made their way quickly to the river, and went on board the launch. Mrs Cunningham was sitting reading down in the cabin, for it was unexpectedly cool that evening. She was most relieved to see them.
‘Oh – you had Oola with you – that’s all right then,’ she said, as she saw Oola’s face peering down the hatch with the others. ‘Bill’s not back yet. Are you hungry? Because if so, tell Tala, and we’ll have supper.’
‘We’re always hungry,’ said Jack. ‘You never really need to ask us that, Aunt Allie. But we’d better wait for Bill.’
Bill came back ten minutes later. ‘Had supper yet?’ he asked. ‘Good, tell Tala we’ll have it. I’m famished. Well, what did you four do?’
‘Nothing much – just went to see an old temple, but there wasn’t much to look at when we got there,’ said Jack.
‘There was a lot of digging round about this district some years ago,’ said Bill. ‘I’ve been hearing about it from that teacher you saw – a very fine and intelligent fellow. Made me wish I could do a little digging myself!’
‘Did you hear anything about Raya Uma?’ asked Jack, very much relieved that Bill had shown so little interest in their own doings that evening. He was determined to keep Bill on some safe subject now.
‘Yes. The teacher knows him quite well, and likes him. Says he is a most interesting man and can talk on any subject under the sun! Even archaeology, which is rather a learned subject – the study of old buildings and other remains. He appears to think that Uma is here to study the old temples and so on that have already been excavated – but he’s not, of course. That’s just a cover for something else he’s doing!’
Jack suddenly sniffed hard. A most delicious smell was coming from Tala’s quarters. Fried fish!
‘Yes,’ said Mrs Cunningham with a laugh. ‘Tala has been fishing – and we’re having his catch for supper. Doesn’t it smell good!’
‘My word, yes,’ said Philip. ‘We’ve been having so many cold meals that I didn’t even guess that Tala could cook. I bet Oola is pleased – he’ll enjoy a meal like that.’
‘That reminds me – Tala was very angry because Oola slipped off this evening, after you had all gone,’ said his mother. ‘He came to me in quite a rage. But as Oola had apparently done all the work Tala had set him to do, I didn’t take much notice. I suppose he went after you, didn’t he?’
‘Yes,’ said Jack. ‘He came to guard his lord! He’s cracked about Philip. I simply can’t understand it!’ He looked at Philip and grinned.
‘I can’t understand it either,’ said Dinah at once. ‘I mean – I could understand him having an admiration for Jack, because of Kiki – but why Philip?’
The conversation was cut short by Oola and Tala bringing trays. The big dish of fried fish, garnished with some strange greenery, and surrounded by most succulent vegetables, was hailed with enormous enthusiasm, and Tala grinned in pleasure as he saw the smiling faces that greeted him.
Oola was a little subdued. He had been well scolded by Tala, who had threatened to tell Bill how he had left his work and run off.
But when Oola had related to Tala how the children had been lost in the darkness, and how he, Oola, had rescued them and brought them safely back, Tala said no more. He did not praise Oola, for secretly he was jealous of what the boy had done, but at least he ceased to scold him.
Oola was very much hoping that Tala would let him share in this delicious meal, and so he was most attentive and obedient. Tala could not hold his anger for long, and had already made up his mind to give the boy a big helping as soon as he could.
Everyone set to and ate heartily, even Mrs Cunningham, who usually had a very small appetite. ‘Tala would make his fortune in a restaurant as a chef,’ she remarked. ‘What is this sauce? I’ve never tasted anything so delicious in my life.’
‘Better not ask,’ said Bill mischievously. ‘It might be a score or so of some peculiar insects mashed up – or . . .’
Dinah gave a small moan, and spat out a mouthful of the sauce at once.
‘Don’t, Dinah!’ said Mrs Cunningham. ‘Do remember your manners. Bill, don’t say things like that. You’ve rather spoilt the sauce for me too.’
‘Sorry,’
said Bill contritely. ‘It was just a bit of fun. I do agree that this sauce is marvellous. Ah, here’s Tala. Tala, this sauce is fine. What is it made of?’
Dinah put her hands over her ears at once. She felt sure that it was mashed-up insects, as Bill had said, or water-snails, or something equally horrible.
‘Sir, it is milk and onion, and bark of a tree called in our language Mollia,’ said Tala, pleased at the praise. ‘Also some mashed-up – mashed-up – how you call it? – er . . .’
‘Insects,’ supplied Jack helpfully.
Tala looked hurt. ‘Tala not use insects. Tala use – yes – it is mashed-up potato – a very, very little.’
Everyone roared. It seemed so ordinary after what Bill had been suggesting. Tala smiled. He liked to make people laugh, though he certainly had no idea what the present joke was.
‘Take your hands from your ears, Dinah,’ said Jack. ‘It was only mashed-up POTATO – very, very little!’
Dinah took down her hands, very much relieved to be told that the sauce was so harmless. The dish was soon completely empty, and everyone felt much better.
Oola was sent with a dish of fresh fruit, bought by Tala at one of the villages that day. It was about all that anyone could manage after the very rich fish.
When the meal had been cleared away, Tala and Oola sat down to theirs. Oola was very happy. Here he was, with the most marvellous meal in front of him, and the evening’s adventure to gloat over. He had guarded his boss, and brought him safely back to the boat!
He began to tell Tala about it all over again, but Tala had no wish to hear such an epic twice. He told Oola to take the dishes and scrape them over the side of the launch.
‘Fish eat pieces, fish grow fat, Tala catch fish, we eat again,’ he explained to Oola, who saw the point at once.
Oola went to scrape the dishes, and suddenly caught sight of another boat gliding up through the darkness, its prow set with a single light. He stared at it. Would it pass by without hailing their own boat?
It slid into the bank, and stopped by the jetty. Bill had heard the motor, and was already looking over the side.
A man jumped out of the motor-boat and walked to where the launch was tied. He called up loudly.
‘Anyone there?’
‘Yes. Who’s that?’ Bill shouted back.
‘Someone to see you!’ came an answering shout. ‘Can I come aboard?’
‘What’s your name?’ asked Bill.
‘RAYA UMA!’ came the answer, and everyone on board sat up at once. Goodness – Raya Uma!
15
Mr Raya Uma
Bill was enormously surprised. He was so nonplussed that he didn’t say a word.
‘Hey – can I come on board or not?’ said the voice impatiently. ‘I heard there was an English family on the river, and I thought I’d like a chat.’
Bill recovered himself. ‘Yes – come on up,’ he shouted back. ‘You took me by surprise. I wasn’t expecting to hear an English voice here, I must say!’
‘Shall we go away, Bill?’ said Jack, in a low voice. Bill shook his head.
‘No. Better stay with me. I don’t know if he guesses who I am or not. Anyway, it’s better if he sees a whole family aboard. Here he is!’
Tala had gone to light the man up to the launch. Now he was bringing him to where Bill and the others sat under an awning draped with mosquito-netting, lighted by a big lantern. Everyone gazed at him in interest.
They saw a medium-sized man, dressed in ordinary summer clothes – flannel trousers, shirt and thin pullover. He wore a white linen hat, and had a beard and thin little moustache. He wore dark glasses like Bill.
He smiled down and the children saw that he had very white teeth. He bowed to Mrs Cunningham, and, as Tala held back the mosquito-net, he put out his hand. She shook it, and then he shook hands with Bill. He nodded at the four children.
‘Ah – you’ve got your family with you, I see!’
‘Yes – the children all had flu very badly, and the doctor said they should go somewhere warm – abroad if possible – so we decided to come out here,’ said Mrs Cunningham, politely. ‘I must say it’s doing them a great deal of good.’
‘Ah – and what are the children’s names?’ asked Mr Uma, smiling down and showing a lot of teeth.
Philip answered for all of them. ‘I’m Philip – that’s Jack – Lucy-Ann – and Dinah.’
‘And what is the parrot’s name? What an unusual pet!’ said Mr Uma.
‘Her name’s Kiki,’ said Jack. ‘Kiki, this is Mr Uma.’
‘Wipe your feet, blow your nose, fetch the doctor,’ said Kiki politely, spoiling the whole effect by giving a terrible screech at the end.
‘Don’t, Kiki,’ said Mrs Cunningham. ‘Not when we have visitors!’
‘How did you hear of us?’ asked Bill, offering Mr Uma a seat.
‘Oh, news soon gets round, you know,’ said Mr Uma. He gave Bill a straight look. ‘I’ve no doubt you’ve heard my name too,’ he said.
‘Er – yes,’ said Bill, frowning as if he were trying to remember where. ‘Someone told me of a Mr Uma who was interested in films at Cine-Town.’
‘Oh, that’s only a side-show for me,’ said Mr Uma, puffing at his cigarette. ‘My great hobby is archaeology.’ He looked at the four children and made what they considered to be a very feeble joke. ‘That’s the study of arks, you know!’
The children ha-ha-ed politely. How old did he think they were, making feeble jokes like that? Lucy-Ann tried to see if he had the snake-like scar on his arm, but his shirt-sleeves were long, and she couldn’t.
‘We went to see an old temple outside Ullabaid this afternoon,’ said Jack. ‘Very disappointing. All front and no back – like the one at Cine-Town.’
Mr Uma took this as a joke and laughed too much. ‘Ah, yes,’ he said. ‘Well, of course, archaeology is disappointing. Like the story of old Brer Rabbit, you know – “he diggy-diggy-dig but no meat dar”.’
‘I suppose it’s very, very expensive to do a lot of excavating for old towns and so on, isn’t it?’ asked Mrs Cunningham, seeing that the children did not appreciate Mr Uma very much.
‘Yes, Ma’am! You can pay out thousands of pounds doing that!’ said Mr Uma. ‘I’ve given it up; it’s too expensive. You don’t make any money out of it, either – your only reward is the excitement of – er – uncovering ages-old civilizations. All the same, it’s a wonderful hobby. I’ve decided to combine an interest in films with my hobby – make a bit of money in films, and spend it wandering about this old, old country, making maps and plans of the last excavations and so on. And what about you, Sir – are you interested in that kind of thing?’
‘About as much as the average man,’ said Bill, cautiously, knowing that he was being sounded out about his own mysterious work. ‘But any new experience is of interest to me. I write articles, you know, and one of these days I’m going to write a book – plenty of interesting things to put into it!’
The children smiled quietly to themselves. Bill did write articles. That was true – but this was the first time they had heard of a book. Bill could write a marvellous book if he were allowed to! The things he had seen and done were quite unbelievable. They felt proud at having shared in so many of his adventures.
‘Ah – a writer! A man of leisure,’ said Mr Uma. ‘It’s only you writers and you painters that can afford to dispense with an office and go all over the world to look for material for your brush or your pen.’
The children began to feel bored. It was quite obvious now that Mr Uma did not know for certain who Bill was, nor whether he had come out merely for a holiday or on some other mission. He and Bill had been ‘crossing swords’ so to speak, testing each other out. They felt that Bill was winning. He had persuaded Mr Uma that he was a writer, they were sure of it.
‘Where are you going to next?’ asked Mr Uma. ‘May I offer you any hospitality? I have a little shack farther down the river – I’m on my way there now, actually. I w
ould be pleased to give you dinner – such as it is – if you and your wife would care to come?’
Bill considered this invitation quickly. Should he accept? It would look odd if he didn’t. Well – he might conceivably find out a little more if he went to Uma’s house. So he nodded and thanked him.
‘Well, thank you, that’s kind of you. We’ll be pleased to come. When? Tomorrow?’
‘Certainly,’ said Mr Uma, and got up to go. ‘Tomorrow night at seven o’clock, shall we say? Your man will know the landing jetty at Chaldo, I’m sure. I will be there to meet you and take you to my house.’
‘Stay and have a drink,’ said Bill. ‘I’ll call Tala.’
But Mr Uma would not stay. He bowed very politely, and raised the mosquito-net. Then he almost fell over somebody crouching on the floor just outside.
He kicked out and there was a yell.
‘Now then – who’s this? Get out of the way there, lying ready to trip me up!’ roared Mr Uma, losing his temper suddenly and surprisingly. He kicked out again.
Philip was up in a trice, guessing it was Oola who had crept up as usual to be near him.
‘Mr Uma – it’s only the little boy who helps our man,’ he said angrily, and at once felt Bill’s hand pressing his shoulder warningly.
‘Sorry, Mr Uma,’ said Bill. ‘I hope you haven’t hurt your foot, kicking out like that.’
Mr Uma didn’t quite know how to take that. He recovered himself immediately, said good night quite heartily and was led off by Tala with a lantern.
‘Oola! It serves you right if people fall over you, if you hide in corners like that!’ said Bill.
‘Bad man that,’ said Oola. ‘Bad, bad man. Oola come to guard boss from bad man.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ said Bill. ‘You don’t know anything about him. Or do you?’
Oola shook his head. ‘Oola know he bad man, Oola say so. Oola not seen bad man before.’
‘Go behind with Tala,’ said Bill. ‘And don’t come over to us again till we call you. Understand?’