Biggles and Cruise of the Condor Page 2

  'What was it?' muttered Biggles involuntarily.

  Dickpa rose, crossed the room, opened a drawer in a desk, and returned with a rough oblong shaped piece of metal, which he flung on the table with a dull crash. 'Gold,' he said tersely, 'solid gold; and I picked it up at a place where the experts—save the word! — say no Incas ever came. I followed up the clue and found other things. Frankly, I was surprised, because I had always thought, as Mr. Prodgers, the great Andean explorer thought, the treasure was more likely to be farther north, in Ecuador.' Dickpa looked long and searchingly across the gardens, taking care not to expose himself, before he continued.

  'Unfortunately, I had with me as carriers a very bad lot. Porters are difficult to obtain in Brazil at any time, and they are always unreliable. I had four men and an Indian-Brazilian, named Philippe Nunez, was the worst of the lot; a coward, a thief, and a liar. He is outside in the park somewhere at this moment.'

  'Well, let's go and shoot him up,' suggested the practical Biggles instantly.

  'Impossible,' declared Dickpa. 'It would be murder. How are we going to account to the police for dead bodies about the park?'

  'Hm! I suppose you're right,' agreed Biggles reluctantly.

  'These rascals,' continued Dickpa, 'got wind of what I had found and deserted me, taking all my food and stores with them—and there's little to be had there. I won't trouble you now with the harrowing details of my trip home, how I was found almost naked, and dying of starvation, by a rubber collector and taken down the river in his canoe, and then to Manaos, which, as you know, is a large town on the Amazon.

  'Judge my amazement, when I got there, to find an expedition just leaving to recover the treasure, led, if you please, by Philippe Nunez, my late porter, and an American wastrel named Silas Blattner. I was too ill with fever to do anything, but I was convalescent when the expedition returned. It had failed, and for the simple reason that, although Philippe knew roughly the locality of the treasure, he did not know the exact spot, and it was like looking for a needle in a haystack. At first I was mildly amused, but my amusement turned to alarm when they tried to kidnap me to force me to divulge my secret.

  'I had ideas of forming another expedition, but I quickly discovered it was out of the question. Apart from the fact that the men I engaged were promptly bribed by the enemy to disclose my plans, it became clear that my life would not be worth a moment's purchase if I ventured far from civilization. Indeed, so desperate did matters become that I had no alternative but to flee the country. That's what it amounted to, and I'm not ashamed to admit it.

  'I was puzzled for a long time to know how this gang—for it is nothing less—managed to get enough money to defray their expenses, but by employing their own methods—that is, by a little bribery—I discovered that they had behind them two of the wealthiest men in Brazil. These two men handle all the rubber from the upper Amazon, which is one of the biggest industries of the country, and for this reason they are known locally as the Rubber Kings. Quite apart from the treasure, they dislike me personally because they know that I know the methods they employ for rubber collecting, which is nothing more or less than slavery in its most brutal form.

  'Anyway, I sent you a cable from Marseilles to say I was on my way home, and then came on here. Judge my astonishment when, within a week, I saw Blattner and Nunez in the park. I had a narrow escape, but I managed to get back to the house; I tried to ring up the police, only to find that the phone wires had been cut. The next move was when they tried to get into the house at night, but I nailed up the windows on the ground floor and got my guns out. I am a man of few wants, and the small staff I had, apparently thinking I was insane, soon left me. I let them go; it was not much use trying to explain the position to them. And that's how things stand at this moment. I am here alone with those villains in the park. You see, even if I could get out and ask for police protection, they would just fade away when the police appeared and return when they had gone. What can I do? I can't give them in charge, for I have no charge to offer against them.

  'I tried to escape, leaving the house to take its chance, but each time I had to fight my way back, for these rogues do not hesitate to use their weapons. So there we are,' concluded the old man with a grim smile.

  'Well, if anyone except you told me that tale I should say he was off his rocker,' declared Biggles emphatically, 'but, knowing you, I can only say I am glad we've rolled up to lend a hand. We shall even things up a bit, I hope. What do you think about it, Algy?'

  'Same as you,' agreed Algy decisively. 'But what are we going to do about it?'

  'It's difficult to see what can be done about it,' admitted Dickpa frankly. 'I don't feel like being run out of my own house, but at the same time I feel still less like living as a cat in a tree with a terrier at the bottom.'

  Biggles nodded. 'I think you're right there,' he agreed. 'The obvious plan that occurs to me is to go out and let these toughs have a dose of their own medicine, but that, as you say, might only lead to complications. The alternative seems to be to get away and lie low; they might clear off when they discovered you'd gone.'

  'Yes, but they'll certainly follow me, and this state of affairs would only be repeated elsewhere. The ideal thing would be to give them the slip entirely and get back to South America while they are looking for me here.'

  'South America?' echoed Biggles with a start.

  'Of course. What else? I certainly do not propose to abandon my quest altogether on account of a band of cut-throats.'

  'Going back into the enemy camp sounds a grim proposition to me,' muttered Biggles doubtfully.

  'But I have friends there as well as enemies,' replied Dickpa.

  'Well, you please yourself, but I should feel inclined to leave it alone if I were you,' advised Biggles. 'After all, you have plenty of money. Why risk a knife in the back to get more?'

  Dickpa shrugged his shoulders. 'It isn't altogether the monetary value of the treasure that appeals to me; it is the historical value of what I know exists there.'

  'I see,' replied Biggles slowly. 'Well, if you are determined to go back, the thing is to think of the quickest way of getting out there, getting the treasure, and then getting back.'

  'Precisely!'

  'Have you ever thought of flying?' enquired Biggles, after a moment's pause.

  It was Dickpa's turn to start. 'I have not,' he said emphatically. 'Most certainly I have not. Do you for one moment suppose I am likely to risk my neck in one of your crazy contraptions?'

  'You might do worse,' retorted Biggles, frowning. 'I can't understand people like you. You take the most outrageous risks with crazy collectors, poisonous reptiles, wild beasts, fever, and goodness knows what else, yet you jib at the safest form of transport in the world.'

  'But—'

  'Never mind but,' broke in Biggles. 'It looks to me as if you haven't much choice if you don't want to be murdered en route. Dash it all, it seems to me the answer to the question.'

  'Where would we fly to from here?' asked Dickpa doubtfully.

  'To Liverpool, I expect, or to your point of embarkation, but, if it comes to that, I don't see why you shouldn't do the whole job by air—except, of course, the Atlantic crossing.*'

  * Regular Atlantic flights only became common during World War II. During the 1920's and 30's few aircraft had the range to cross with any safety.

  'Good heavens, man!'

  'Well, why not?'

  'What about the Atlantic, though?'

  'Dash the Atlantic. I'm not flying over any oceans myself, so you needn't worry about that. We could fly to Liverpool, ship the plane to America, and go over ourselves by boat. We'd pick up our equipment again over the other side.'

  'Why do you say "we"?'

  'We three. Who else?'

  'Then you'd come?'

  'Of course we'd come. I was only saying to Algy as we came up the drive that I was about sick of loafing about. This proposition sounds interesting to me.'

  'I don't
know what to think about it,' muttered Dickpa anxiously. 'I think the best thing would be for. you to work out a definite plan of action for the whole trip. Then we'll have a round table conference about it, and I'll decide if it sounds practicable. How's that?'

  'Fine! But first of all you'd better tell me a few things about the Matey Grocer—'

  'The Matto Grosso.'

  'Sorry. Well, tell us about it, so that Algy and I can determine the best sort of aircraft to be employed.'

  'Very well, let's take our coffee into the smoke-room. The atlas is there, and the windows command a better view of the grounds in case our besiegers try any funny stuff.'

  'They won't find it so funny if they do,' growled Biggles, scowling, as they made their way to the long, low, oak-panelled hall which was used as a smoke-room.

  Chapter 2

  Dickpa Explains

  'The Matto Grosso,' began Dickpa when they had made themselves comfortable, 'is nominally a province of Brazil. Actually it is almost the whole vast centre of the South American continent. To the north lies the Amazon, to the west the great Cordillera of the Andean Range, and to the south lies another vast tract of unexplored country. It is hard to describe in terms of figures the magnitude of the place. You see, Brazil is larger than the whole of the United States of America with most of Europe added to it. Try and grasp just what that means. The area of England is just over 50,000 square miles; Brazil covers 3¼ million square miles. The Matto Grosso is nearly a million square miles in extent, which means that it is nearly twenty times as large as England, and except for a few insignificant places it is unexplored. It is the wildest and least known country in the world today. Mighty unnamed mountains rise to high heaven, and rivers, so huge that the Thames would be no more than a ditch compared to them, thread their way across it. Its immensity is overpowering. It is a land of open plains and forests often larger than the United Kingdom, and inhabited by tribes, some of whom have not yet seen a white man. It is a land where distances are measured, not in miles or hundreds of miles, but thousands of miles and months of travel. It is a poor land and yet a rich land, poor in food-producing plants and animals but rich beyond calculation in minerals. Gold, silver, platinum, mercury, tin, lead, iron, copper, not to speak of diamonds, rubies, and other precious stones, are found, but, owing to the difficulties of obtaining labour and supplies, these are barely touched. The forests are full of valuable timbers, which remain there for the same reason. The greatest wealth of the country has come from the rubber, which, as you know, is collected from the trees which exist near the banks of the rivers, which are the only highways.'

  'What are the weather conditions like?' asked Biggles with interest.

  'On the uplands it can be cold at night, but, being in the tropics, the days are usually very hot. Storms of rain, such as we do not understand in this country, sweep across the country in the rainy season.'

  'Any wild beasts—lions or things like that?' asked Algy anxiously.

  Dickpa laughed. 'No lions,' he said. 'The jaguar is about the only animal of the cat family one need fear. There are many other wild animals, of course—queer beasts, most of them—but none to cause alarm. The rivers are full of crocodiles, and pirhanas are found in many places.'

  'What are they?' asked Biggles with interest.

  Dickpa looked grave for a moment. 'They are quite small fish about the size of herrings, but perhaps the most blood-thirsty little wretches in the world. They go about in huge shoals, and woe betide the unfortunate man who encounters them in the water. They are armed with sharp teeth, and have a grip like a bulldog that will take the piece right out of whatever they bite. They have been known to clean the flesh off a man's bones—or an animal's, if it comes to that—leaving only the white skeleton, in a matter of a few minutes. Even people wading have been attacked, and died from loss of blood before they could take the few steps necessary to reach the bank. The ferocity of their attack must be seen to be believed. One drop of blood in the water will fetch every pirhana for miles, and the natives fear them more than all the crocodiles and big water-snakes put together.'

  'I can see I shan't do much swimming,' muttered Biggles with a grimace. 'And did you say snakes?'

  'Oh, yes, you'll find snakes everywhere, both on the land and in the water, including some of the largest in the world. They often run upwards of twenty feet in length. I could tell you some queer tales about snakes,' mused the old explorer reflectively.

  'I shouldn't, not unless you want me to change my mind about coming,' interposed Biggles.

  'The snakes don't really matter; one soon gets accustomed to them,' went on Dickpa. 'The real pests are the insects, and they do scare me, I must confess. There are so many of them. There are bees which do not sting, but make your life a misery by crawling all over you—into your eyes, ears, nose, and even mouth.'

  'We can fly higher than they can,' observed Biggles confidently.

  'You might, but they'll be waiting for you when you land,' observed Dickpa drily. 'The ants are the very dickens. They are everywhere in countless myriads, in all colours and sizes. Sometimes they march about in columns, and sometimes they work independently, but they are always on the rampage. I don't know which are the worst, the big saubas, which are over an inch long and bite like the very devil, or the cupim, which are the notorious white ants and the most destructive creatures in the world. Nothing is safe from them. Leave your hat or coat on the ground at night and it will be gone in the morning, carried away in thousands of tiny pieces. They eat the entire middles out of the trees, which is one of the reasons why trees are always crashing down in the forest. You must never forget the ant—not that they give you much chance of forgetting them—for they are the real rulers of the country.

  'Then there are the piums, tiny beasts worse than mosquitoes which squirt a sort of acid into your eyes, and the polvoras—the name really means "powder," because they are so small. They fly about literally in billions and sting you all over. Worse still, perhaps, is the little horror known as the carrapato, which is a flat beast about the size of the end of a lead pencil. It has wonderful clinging powers by means of hooks on its feet. Its great object in life is to stick its head under your skin and suck your blood. The trouble is, you can't get it off. If you pull it the head breaks off and sticks in your skin and makes a nasty sore. The only way to get it out is with a pin.'

  Dickpa paused to let his words sink in.

  'Any more horrors?' asked Biggles.

  'Plenty,' replied Dickpa, grinning. 'There are the carrapatinhos, which are the younger and perhaps more active brothers of the carrapatos?

  'Don't tell me about them,' broke in Biggles quickly.

  'Sounds a good place for a picnic,' observed Algy drily. 'What is the country itself like—I mean as far as possible landing-places are concerned?'

  'Well, that's a big question,' answered Dickpa. 'Like most other wild countries, you get a bit of everything; forest, swamp, and plain. Some of the country has to be seen to be believed. It is nearly all volcanic. Once upon a time, it must have been one colossal roaring furnace, with great craters throwing up ashes and lava for great distances. You'll find cinders everywhere, and great, round, queer-shaped stones which were once molten rock, but have now solidified. In places the earth has sunk, leaving mighty masses of rock sticking up thousands of feet into the air. Goodness knows what is on top of them; in most places the walls rise up sheer from the plain, so it is impossible to climb them. There are places where formations like churches, castles, and other buildings can be seen. In my opinion, these are simply odd-shaped pinnacles of rock but one or two of the very few people who have been there think differently. Colonel Fawcett, for instance, spent years in the country, and was firmly convinced they were the ruins of a lost civilization. Poor fellow, he did not come back from his last journey. It is now almost certain that he and his son Jack were killed by hostile tribes in the interior. They disappeared, leaving no trace behind them. A well-equipped expedition has b
een out to look for them or to try and solve the mystery, but in vain.' Dickpa paused to relight his pipe, which had gone out.

  'Tell me this,' asked Biggles: 'what are our chances of landing near the treasure? I mean, is there a flat plain handy, or a large river or lake where a flying-boat or seaplane could be put down?'

  'Both of them,' replied Dickpa quickly. 'The place is not far from a large river about a hundred yards wide, generally deep, but shallow in places. There are islands in it, and sandbanks at intervals. The actual ground in the district is flat enough, but there are boulders, anthills, and occasional patches of matto, or dwarf scrub, and forest.'

  'The boulders and ant-hills sound awkward,' observed Biggles.

  'I'm afraid they are scattered about almost everywhere,' nodded Dickpa, 'although there are, of course, plenty of places where you could land an aeroplane, if you knew where they were.'

  'It doesn't sound very inviting, all the same,' mused Biggles. 'If we bumped into a boulder and bust the machine we should be in a bonny mess. But go on, Dickpa.'

  'Well, generally speaking, that is what most of the country over which we should have to fly is like,' continued Dickpa. 'I do not profess to understand aviation, but I should think the rivers would be the safest places to land on, although you would have to be careful of waterfalls, rapids, and cataracts. In any case, in order to reach the place we should have to fly up the river, at least as far as Manaos, which is the best part of a thousand miles from the sea, in order to start as near as possible to our final destination with a full load of stores and petrol. I can wire to my agent there to get those things ready for us. You must understand there is nothing anywhere else, absolutely nothing except what I have told you. There are no habitations or places where food can be obtained. Isn't there some sort of aeroplane which can come down on both land and water? I seem to remember seeing pictures of such a machine in the papers, a—a—what was it called?'