Biggles Hunts Big Game Part 8

"The news is, Bertie's dead," said Tug grimly.

Biggles took a pace backward. "What? Say that again."

"Bertie's dead," repeated Tug.

"Are you sure?"

"As sure as I'm standing here," returned Tug wearily.

"I saw his body with my own eyes. He and Ginger were spotted."

"Where's Ginger?"

"G.o.d knows. He's disappeared."

"I see," said Biggles quietly. "Algy and I have taken a room at Constantino's Restaurant, just up the road on the left.

Slip along. I'll follow you in."

"Good enough," answered Tug.

Chapter 11.

Ginger Climbs Down WHEN Bertie fell in his desperate attempt to escape the bullet about to be fired by the treacherous Kisumo he thought that bis last moment had come. Indeed, so sure was be of it that his sinews went taut in expectation of the missile which at any instant must rip through him. At such moments the human brain reaches its maximum efficiency, and one thinks at the speed of light. The shot came, yet, miraculously Bertie felt nothing. The thought flashed through his brain that 130 Kisumo had missed him, but even so, he could not understand why he had not heard the swish of the bullet.

He a.s.sumed, naturally, that Kisumo had fired the shot. Not for an instant did any other thought occur to him. Twisting towards a bush he s.n.a.t.c.hed a glance at the black to see what he was doing. Then, for the first time, the truth struck him. Kisumo was not even looking in his direction. He had lowered the rifle although he still held it at the ready. He was looking the other way, staring into the forest. The only posssible explanation of this strange behaviour was, he had not fired. But a shot had been fired. Who had fired it? At what? There was no indication of the direction from which the sound had come. The only certain thing was, it had been close.

Bertie lay still, crouching low, hoping that he would not be seen. He dare not shift his position for fear of being heard.

Slowly, his hand moved towards his hip pocket for the revolver he carried in it.

At this juncture the picture, which had been as static as a photographic print, sprang to life. There was a tremendous crashing in the undergrowth and into the open burst a buffalo, coughing blood. It appeared to be mad with pain and fury. It saw Kisumo standing in the path and hated him on sight. With a choking bellow of rage the beast charged.

As the mountain of bovine fury thundered towards him Kisumo fired two shots in quick succession. Then the instinct of self-preservation swamped all others and he turned to run. Although at such short range it was almost impossible to miss, the bullets had no effect, much less did they check the charge. The wretched black might as well have fired at a runaway tank.

From the bush in which he was crouching Bertie saw 131 the whole thing. Overtaking the man the buffalo tossed him high into the air. Spinning, he fell on the path. The buffalo rushed at him again, and kneeling on him gored him with its horns. Then, with a shuddering sigh, it rolled over on its side. A few spasmodic jerks of its legs and it lay still. Kisumo did not move.

For a minute Bertie did not move either. He was shocked by the dreadful thing he had just seen. Then he crept out, and treading softly picked up the rifle. Again he stood still, watching the beast until he was satisfied that it was dead.

Then a rustle in the bushes brought him around, and he came within an ace of shooting Ginger, who now appeared on the track.

"Here, I say," said Bertie, in a curiously high-pitched voice, "what are you playing at?"

"Playing!" exclaimed Ginger incredulously. "Did you say playing?"

Bertie pointed. "Did you start this bally bull on the rampage?"

"I shot it, if that's what you mean," answered Ginger grimly. "The brute had me treed the whole afternoon. About half an hour ago it moved off and I decided to try to get out. But he was waiting, the cunning old devil. I saw him watching me from behind a bush so I let him have it. He came on, put I dodged behind a tree and he roared past. That was the last I saw of him. I didn't know anything about you being here. Thank G.o.d he didn't get you."

"He's made a beastly mess of Kisumo," said Bertie. "Not that I'm going to shed any tears at that. No bally fear. The rascal was just going to shoot me when you fired."

"He was going to do what?"

"b.u.mp me off, as they say in the cla.s.sics. But of 132 course you don't know. I've been back to camp. Tug's there."

"Tug!"

"Yes. And do you know what he brought?"

"You tell me."

"Photographs. Photographs of us, standing outside the Yard. Kreeze knows we're cops."

"Tug couldn't have known about the photos," declared Ginger.

"Of course not. They were in a letter. But the upshot of it was, Kreeze sent me out ostensibly to look for you, but in reality to be liquidated by Kisumo. As it happened, Kisumo got all the b.u.mping that was going. He won't do any more-no, by Jove! It'll take some time to pick up the pieces."

Standing there on the bank Bertie told Ginger all that had happened. When he had finished Ginger told him the result of his own reconnaissance, and explained why he had been unable to return to the meeting place.

"We seem to be getting things in a deuce of a mess," said Bertie when he had finished "What do we do next?"

"That's something that will need a bit of thinking about," a.s.serted Ginger. "Obviously we can't go back to the lodge.

Kreeze would make a better job of this murder business if we did."

"We ought to try to get in touch with Tug, somehow," suggested Bertie, cleaning his eyegla.s.s with his handkerchief.

Ginger agreed. "That would be fine. But Kreeze may be watching him, and if we were seen talking to him, apart from anything that might happen to us we should give Tug away. It's no use doing anything in a hurry. Let's think it over."

133 Ginger found a not very comfortable seat on the stump of a fallen tree. Bertie, incongruously, used the buffalo's head for the same purpose.

" It's time Biggles was here," resumed Ginger. "I'm dashed if I can see how we're going to get out of this jam. We can't go back to the lodge without the risk of being b.u.mped off and we can't stay here without the risk of being chewed up by wild animals. We should soon starve to death, anyway. The question is, have we got enough evidence to round up this outfit-but that's something Biggles would have to decide. What's he up to, I wonder? Our only chance of getting in touch with him now is through Tug. It would be worth taking a chance to do that. No doubt he'll be going back to Cairo tomorrow-or pretty soon."

"I don't think this blighter Kreeze is likely to leave us floating about loose, if we don't go back to camp," said Bertie.

"I think you're right," answered Ginger thoughtfully. " He's bound to try to find out what's happened to us and Kisumo -when he doesn't turn up. Let's apply Biggles' method and say, what is Kreeze most likely to do when Kisumo doesn't return? Those three shots that were fired must have been heard at the lodge. As far as Kreeze was concerned, one ought to have been enough. When Kisumo fails to put in an appearance he'll know that something has come unstuck.

The chances are he'll come out to see what's happened. I wonder could we pull a fast one on him ? "

"Have you had a brainwave?" inquired Bertie.

"I wouldn't call it that," answered Ginger. "But let us a.s.sume that a search party will come out to see what the shots were about. When Kreeze observes this mess the balloon will go up to a considerable alti-134 tude. He'll know you've escaped, in which case he'll turn out every black he's got to look for you. To save all that, I was wondering if it wouldn't be better to lead him to think that you did get b.u.mped off by Kisumo before the buffalo took a hand. Three shots were fired. He'll work it out that the first shot was Kisumo shooting you. The next two shots were fired by Kisumo at the buffalo. Actually, that's pretty well what did happen, and all the evidence here will point that way-the dead buffalo, your rifle lying there, and so on."

"To fit in with that my body should also be wallowing in the gore," Bertie pointed out.

"Is there any reason why it shouldn't be?" inquired Ginger.

Bertie started. "Here, I say, go easy," he protested. "I wouldn't joke about things like that, you know."

"I'm not joking," Ginger told him seriously. "It wouldn't call for much effort for you to dab a spot of blood on your forehead as if a bullet had gone through it, and then arrange yourself like a corpse on the path. I'd take up a position in the bushes and watch what happens."

"I don't like this corpse idea," stated Bertie coldly. "If we stay here I'm likely to be one soon enough."

"But if it came off it would be a winner," argued Ginger.

"Suppose they decided to carry my poor old body back to the lodge? How could I come back to life, if you see what I mean?"

"The chances are they'll wait till morning," declared Ginger. "They won't feel like cleaning up this butcher's shop in the dark."

"And what's going to happen in the morning?"

135 "You won't be here."

"I should jolly well think not," a.s.serted Bertie with some warmth. "But isn't that going to look a bit odd? I mean, won't Kreeze and his merry men wonder how I came to life-if you get my meaning?"

"They'll think your body was carried off by a lion, or a hyena. We could arrange things to look like that."

" How? "

"By dragging you through the bushes and splashing blood about."

"Dash that for a tale," protested Bertie. "I don't like all this talk about blood and death. Can't you think of some other way?"

"There's no other way, if we want to lead Kreeze to believe that you've gone for a Burton*. If we work it this way he won't even bother to look for your body."

"All right. I'll try it, if you're sure there's no other way," agreed Bertie without enthusiasm. "But it all sounds a mucky business to me. Incidentally, what will they think has happened to you? "

"They can think what they like. It might be a good thing to get them guessing."

"And what do we do after Kreeze has been here to inspect the jolly old shambles? "

"We'll creep up to the lodge and try to get in touch with Tug, so that when he gets back to Cairo he can pa.s.s our information on to Biggles. But if we're going through with this thing we'd better get cracking. Kreeze or his toughs might arrive here at any time now."

Bertie regarded the gruesome spectacle on the path with disgust. "Just where do you think I'd better arrange myself in this cat's breakfast?" he inquired, rising. And then, before Ginger could answer, he * " Gone for a Burton." R.A.F. slang meaning killed 136 slipped in a pool of buffalo blood and sat down with a squelch. Gore splashed in all directions and he collected a fair amount of it.

In spite of their serious predicament Ginger buried his face in his hands and sobbed with laughter at the expression on Bertie's face as he picked himself up.

"That," said Bertie with icy calm, "is the finish. I'm going home. I've had enough-absolutely enough. Kreeze or no Kreeze I am going to the lodge for a bath. If you think I'm going to walk about Africa in a pair of bloodstained breeches-"

"Don't be a fool," said Ginger, struggling to stifle his mirth. " You'll make an absolutely perfect corpse as you are now.

Moreover, you needn't be afraid of getting in a mess when you lie down. Just a minute-what's this coming?" He stared down the path. Through the trees he could see a cl.u.s.ter of lights advancing. "Here they come," he said tersely.

"Get weaving. Lie down-anywhere."

Bertie sat down beside the dead buffalo. "Don't you go too far away in case a hyena takes a fancy to my pants," he requested curtly.

"I shall be handy," promised Ginger.

"What about my rifle?"

"Leave it where it is. That's all part of the arrangement. You'll have to lie flat. Corpses don't sit up."

"Face up or down? "

"Please yourself."

Bertie lay back, face upwards, arm out flung, one leg doubled under him.

" That's perfect," Ginger told him. "All you have to do now is lie still. I'm moving off." He crept away into the bushes, found a comfortable position about a dozen yards from the track, and settled down to watch.

137 In two or three minutes a group of figures could be seen advancing towards the spot. Ginger made out Kreeze, Robinson, the Doctor, and two other white men whom he did not know, and several blacks. Nearly all carried torches, and it was perhaps due to the glare of these that he did not at first see another man, a white man, who tailed along in the rear of the party. When he did see him, and recognized him, he held his breath with shock, and not a little shame.

It was Tug. That Tug might be in the search party was a possibility that had not occurred to him. He realized instantly what it meant. Tug would be taken in with the rest of them. What his feelings would be when he saw Bertie's bloodstained body was something Ginger preferred not to think about. He was intensely sorry for him but there was nothing he could do about it now. The grim game would have to be played out.

The search party hurried forward when it saw the horrid spectacle, and then halted. Their combined torches made a spotlight on a scene that horrified even Ginger, although he knew that it was not so bad as it appeared to be. The natives drew in breath with a sharp hissing sound.

Kreeze, who now advanced alone, was the first to speak. "What a mess," he muttered in a shocked voice, as he surveyed the scene.

The blacks seemed inclined to back away.

Kreeze walked up and down, looking at everything.

He picked up Bertie's rifle, jerked the empty cartridge out of the breech, and threw the weapon down again. Then he said, almost to a word, what Ginger had preedicted.

" It's plain enough to see what happened here," he told Robinson and the Doctor in a voice that was low, 138 but loud enough for Ginger to hear. "Kisumo did his job; the buffalo must have been in the timber, and charged; he fired two shots at it. And he hit it, too, but it must have been too close for him to stop it. The brute got him. We'd better leave things as they are until everyone that matters has seen this. We shall need witnesses. Dupray will make a good one. No one will doubt his word. We'll get some photographs in the morning to show to the authorities if they start asking questions. We'll bring stretchers along at the same time and take the bodies back to the lodge for burial.

We'll put Lissie beside Carding. A few graves will do no harm-teach people to do as they're told."

"What's happened to the other one-Hebblethwaite-do you suppose?" asked Robinson.

"He can't be far away. He may have had an accident, too. He wouldn't be such a fool as to stay out all night in this sort of country if he was able to get in. We'll attend to him in the morning. Well, there's no point in hanging about here; we may as well get back."

" You'll have to leave someone on guard or the hyenas will mess things up before you can get the photos," observed Robinson.

"Yes, that's right." Kreeze beckoned to a tall native. "Kolo, you stay here and keep the hyenas off. "

From the way Kolo started to protest it was evident that he did not relish the job.

"Two of the others can stay with you," Kreeze told him. "There's nothing to be afraid of. Nothing will come near while you're here."

Kolo said no more, but if his expression was anything to go by he was far from happy. There was some 139 argument as to who should stay with him, but at length it was decided and the rest of the party set off back down the track.