10 Gorilla Adventure (12 page)

They joined the bucket brigade. This time there were no elephants to help them. It took an hour of hard work to extinguish the fire.

With blackened faces and pyjamas sprinkled with ashes, the boys had time now to think.

‘He certainly is determined to do us in,’ Hal said.

‘Who?’

‘Nero, of course. I suppose he’s miles away by this time. I wonder how he got out of that cage. It was double-padlocked.’

‘Let’s go and look at the locks.’

Picking their way with the help of a flashlight, they passed through the fleet of fourteen cars to Nero’s prison-on-wheels at the far edge of the camp.

The locks were still locked.

Hal was puzzled. ‘That’s funny. There’s no other way he could have escaped. And yet, somehow, he got out, started a fire, and made a getaway.’

‘Let me have that flash,’ Roger said. He played the light inside the cage. In one corner was a huddled form. It looked like a bundle of clothes.

They went around to get a closer look. The bundle of clothes was snoring. It was Nero, sound asleep.

The two amateur detectives could hardly believe their eyes. This couldn’t happen - yet it had happened. Hal picked up a stick, put it between the bars and poked Hie sleeper. Nero awoke with a start and stared into the light.

‘Well, what is it?’ he snapped. ‘It’s not enough to cage me like an animal. You have to come prodding me awake in the middle of the night.’

‘You didn’t make that fire?’

‘What fire? If I could get out I’d give you more than fire to worry about.’

Walking back to their room, Hal muttered, ‘It’s too deep for me. By the way, Tieg wasn’t out there helping put out that fire. I wonder … Oh well, there’s one good thing about it We’ve still got our gorilla killer and he’s headed for jail in the morning.’

Morning came too soon. At the first glimmer of dawn the bush-baby showed why it had been called a bush-baby. It started a loud, squalling cry sounding like that of a very bad-tempered baby: Pay-yahl Pay-yahl Pay-yahl Wah-wahl When it wasn’t singing this song it filled in with crackles and grunts.

The little bishop, so solemn and quiet during the day, forgot all his dignity and broke into a shrill whistle that

almost drowned out the bush-baby. Wheel Wheel Wheel Listen to me. He took gigantic leaps around the room. He soared so easily that it seemed he must have wings. His gorgeous white robe floated out behind him like a cloud. He sprang from chairback to chairback, from mantel to window, from Roger’s chest to Hal’s, landing on them as lightly as a bird.

The elephant shrew shrieked in a fairly good imitation of the scream of an elephant.

The chimp chattered, the baby gorillas crooned and the big female gorilla, Lady Luck, slapped herself with hollowed hands producing a sound like the popping of corks from bottles.

The only silent member of the menagerie was Snow White. She continued the quiet process of digestion while the air rocked around her.

The boys gave up the attempt to sleep an hour longer to make up for the hour they had lost during the night. Everybody had a good appetite for breakfast - everybody except the already stuffed python. As to what made a good breakfast, they did not agree.

The bush-baby searched the windows and the roof for insects. The elephant shrew had a taste for grass-hoppers. His reverence, the bishop, preferred flowers. It seemed very appropriate that this gorgeous animal should prefer food that was both fragrant and beautiful.

The gorilla babies had to have their milk. The senior gorilla and the chimp enjoyed fruit. Rocking Horse would take nothing but dry thorns, while Flatfoot must have juicy water plants. The only one who would devour anything and everything that was brought to him was Nero. It was probably the last good meal he would have for many a day, since Congo prisons are not famous for their cuisine.

At the office of the commandant, Deputy Hal Hunt delivered his prisoner to the authorities.

He and Roger took the road back to camp in high spirits. Their enemy was behind bars. Now they would have no more trouble.

But trouble waited for them around a bend of the road.

As they skirted the base of the active volcano they rounded a corner to find the way blocked by a green pole standing upright in the middle of the road. Hal stepped on the brakes. The car shuddered to a halt within three feet of the post.

‘Now, whoever put that there?’ Hal said irritably. ‘No room to get around it. Hop out and pull it up.’

Luckily Roger was a bit slow. He was just about to slide out when he saw the post move. The windscreen was dusty, as it always is in Africa, and they could not see the thing plainly. But the top of the post seemed to be expanding and a red tongue darted in and out.

‘But it can’t be a snake,’ Roger said. ‘How could a snake stand six feet tall?’

‘Because most of it is on the ground,’ Hal said.

In the dust of the road lay nine feet of snake, easily supporting the erect six feet.

‘What is it?’

‘A mamba. The Africans call it The Snake that Walks on Its Tail. Wish we could get it. Isn’t it a beauty?’

The mamba was grass-green and its scales sparkled like jewels. But Roger was a little too uneasy to appreciate its beauty.

He had heard too many grim stories about the mamba. It was famous for its bad temper. If you approached it slowly, it would glide away. But if you startled it, as this one had been startled by the sudden arrival of the car, it would attack.

It could strike hard enough to knock a man down. It had been known to chase and kill a man on horseback. It had a bad record for attacking people in cars. If cut in half, the front half could still attack.

‘It’s mighty poisonous, isn’t it?’

‘Nothing more deadly in Africa. You can actually drink its poison without harm. But if it gets into your veins it paralyses the respiratory system and you quit breathing.’

‘What are you going to do about it?’

‘Just wait a minute and see if it quiets down. Then I’ll try to get it.’ They waited. The cobra-like hood grew smaller and the stiff body relaxed.

‘We’ll have to act quickly or it’ll be gone. There’s a bag in the rear of the truck. Do you think you could sneak around very quietly and get it?’

The errand did not appeal to Roger, But he cautiously opened the door. Unfortunately his nervous hand struck the handle and at the sound the snake became rigid. Then it was suddenly on the car itself where it struck the windscreen a terrific blow that cracked the glass and left it dripping with poison.

‘Hope it didn’t hurt its nose doing that,’ Hal said.

Roger looked at Hal curiously. This was a funny brother of his who thought more about keeping a specimen in perfect condition than about the danger of getting bitten.

The snake seemed a little discouraged. It had expected to bury its fangs in flesh and blood and all it got was a whack

on the nose.

‘Now, while it’s still dizzy, get that bag.’

Roger slipped out and returned at once with the sack. He closed the door carefully, but didn’t bother with the window which was open only a crack - certainly not enough to admit a large snake.

But the mamba, exploring the window, found the crack and made use of it. This snake has the peculiar ability to flatten itself so that it may pass through a space no thicker than a sandwich.

The swiftly moving snake was well started through the crack before the boys realized what it was up to.

Too late to do anything about it,’ Hal said. ‘Keep perfectly quiet. Don’t move an inch. Perhaps that bump knocked all the zing out of it and now all it wants is a dark hole to crawl into.’

‘Suppose you’re wrong,’ said Roger. ‘Do we have any serum in the car?’

‘None.’

‘If it bites, will there still be time to get to camp?’

‘No. You’d be dead in ten minutes. Now shut up and don’t move.’

The snake glided smoothly over Roger’s back, giving him a prickly sensation he would never forget. He could hardly refrain from throwing it off or at least letting out a good scream, but he kept himself bottled up tightly as it passed along the back of the seat to Hal. It chose to slide over Hal’s neck and then down into the sack which Hal had left invitingly open to receive it.

Hal did not breathe until all of the fifteen-foot serpent was inside the bag and well settled. Then, moving very slowly, he gave the lover of darkness a complete blackout by closing the bag and tying it shut. Now the snake was at peace. But the same could not be said for the nerves of the two animal collectors.

As they drove on towards camp their jumpy heartbeats slowed down and their spirits rose.

‘Pretty good morning’s work,’ Hal said. ‘One of Africa’s most famous snakes in the bag - and Nero put away where he can do no more harm. Perhaps the gorillas can live in peace now, and so can we.’

This pleasant pipe-dream was rudely shattered when they arrived at camp and Joro came running with some bad news.

There’s been another killing,’ he said. ‘Twenty more gorillas dead. Nero has been at it again.’

‘That’s impossible,’ Hal said. ‘You know yourself that Nero was double-locked in a cage all last night, and now he’s in jail.’

Joro shook his head. ‘Then it is witchcraft.’

‘Joro, you know better than that. You’re too intelligent to believe in witchcraft.’

‘I don’t know,’ Joro said. ‘Perhaps there is no witchcraft in your country, but this is Africa.’

‘Africa or anywhere else, there’s a natural reason for everything. And I’m going to find out what it was this time. Where did this happen?’

‘About one hour’s walk down the elephant trail that leads to the valley.’

‘After lunch 111 go and take a look.’

‘I’ll go with you,’ Roger said.

‘No, you’d better stay here and look after the animals. See that the mamba is put in a good cage. Don’t let him get his fangs into you.’

After a hasty lunch, Hal set off down the trail by which the valley elephants often came at dusk to drink at the lake.

Occasionally he passed an elephant pit. These pits had been dug by Africans and were now neglected, but when new they had been covered with leafy branches through which the unsuspecting elephant would fall and remain trapped until men came to kill him and carve him up to feed the villagers.

The pits were now old and uncovered and the beasts had picked their way around them. Hal did the same.

After walking for about an hour he began to look for the twenty dead gorillas. He found them at last in a small cleared space under a giant hagenia.

Hal could not understand what he saw. He was almost inclined to agree with the believers in witchcraft. There was no sign that human beings had been here - no human footprints, no broken spears or arrowheads.

Many of the bodies were torn and looked as if they had been partly eaten. He knew that Africans sometimes do kill gorillas for their meat. But they would not have left so much behind them. They would have taken the carcasses to their villages to devour later.

There were many dead babies. That was strange. Gangsters usually killed the adults and took away the babies alive to sell to animal collectors. Here both old and young had been slaughtered.

All the adults were females. The males, if any, must have been absent on a food-hunting quest. That had made things easier for the mysterious killer, female gorillas seldom fight. When attacked, they sit doubled over with hands protecting their heads.

Blood dripping through the leaves of the hagenia made him look up. In the branches more than a hundred feet from the ground dangled the bodies of two large gorillas. How did they get up there? Young gorillas climb trees, but adults, because of their weight,.prefer to stay on the ground.

Could the two large apes have been taken aloft after they were dead? African hunters would have no reason for doing that. Not if they were human hunters. The only animal hunter that could do it and would do it was the leopard. This cat would climb a tree with a carcass twice its own weight and hang it high to ripen and tenderize before he eats it. Thus he keeps it safe from the hyenas and jackals which never climb trees.

Hal had an uneasy feeling that someone was watching him. He pivoted on his heels, scanning every bush in the circle.

There it was, just partly visible, a black face and two deep-set eyes. As he looked, it vanished.

It seemed to him that it had been too big a face to be the face of an African. Then what - the face of a gorilla - his sworn enemy, Gog?

Had Gog done all this? He could not believe it. Men killed men, but gorillas do not kill gorillas.

Still puzzled and distressed he started back towards camp. Black clouds covered the sky and a heavy pall of smoke from the volcano did not improve the visibility. It was only mid-afternoon but it seemed almost night under the heavy canopy of trees. An occasional flash of lightning lit the path, but blinded the eyes so that the shadows seemed darker than before.

He kept in mind that there were elephant pits along this trail. Fortunately they had lost their cover of brush, so it should be easy, even in this dim light, to see them and go around them. So he confidently trotted along the path and was astonished when what appeared to be a bed of leaves gave way under his feet and he dropped into an elephant-sized hole.

He landed with a rude jolt but decided that he was not really hurt. He was greatly puzzled. If this pit had been concealed when he came from camp he would have fallen into it It must have been open then and he had seen it and avoided it. It had since been covered. By whom? Had someone planned to trap him?

Whoever it was, he would fool him. With a good strong set of arms and legs, he should be able to climb out of this spot without difficulty.

But when he tried it he found that the walls were steep and offered no handhold. Besides, the pit was about twenty

feet deep - as deep as a two-storey building is high. To try to clamber out would be like trying to climb the outside wall of a building without the help of a fire-escape or even a drainpipe.

But there was another way. Dangling from above was a stout vine or liana of the sort used by the Africans as rope.