Biggles and the Lost Sovereigns by W E Johns

Author:W E Johns [Johns, W E]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Adventure
Published: 2012-03-05T23:09:37+00:00

* * *

1 See Biggles Takes It Rough.

CHAPTER 9

ANOTHER CLUE

The protection of the camp, more particularly the aircraft, as the storm approached, became a race against time. The machine, having been turned dead into wind, was anchored with pegs and sand-bags. Nothing more could be done. The same with the tent after sand had been heaped on the skirts to hold it down. The burnt hole, while not a large one, was a hazard as the wind poured through it and threatened to lift the whole thing into the air like a balloon. There had been no time to consider how it could be repaired. Luckily the mosquito nets were still serviceable, not that they were likely to be required in the present weather conditions.

‘I though this material was supposed to be fireproof,’ said Ginger indignantly, as they worked.

‘It is, more or less,’ answered Biggles. ‘If it hadn’t been it would have gone up in flames before anything could be done about it. But I doubt if any stuff would stand direct contact with red-hot ashes without some damage. Well, that’s about as much as we can do. We shall have to take our luck. Let’s get inside before the rain comes, because when it does it won’t start with a drizzle. It’ll come down in buckets. Chintoo will have to come in with us. He can’t stay outside. Call him in. This will mean a cold supper out of a tin.’

It was now nearly dark, and not only because the sun was low. The entire sky was covered with a blanket of black, ominous, fast-moving cloud. The wind, shrieking, increased to hurricane force. Seas thundered on the beach. Then, without warning as Biggles had predicted, came the rain. From the noise it made the cloud had burst wide open, discharging its contents like liquid ramrods. A ground-sheet was held over the hole in the tent, but inevitably some water came through.

‘How long is this likely to last?’ shouted Ginger above the uproar.

Biggles shook his head. ‘Don’t ask me. Ask Chintoo.’

Chintoo didn’t know either.

Conversation became impossible. Sleep was out of the question. More than once it was thought that the tent would go. For nearly four hours these conditions persisted, but by midnight the full fury of the storm was spent, or the centre of it had passed on. The wind came in less violent gusts. It still rained, but not so heavily. There was less noise.

Biggles put out his head to see how the aircraft was taking it, by no means certain it was still there. ‘Can’t see a thing,’ he announced. ‘Pitch black. Thank God there was no hail or the wings would have been knocked into colanders. I’ve seen that happen in monsoon weather. I can hear the sea pretty close, but I don’t think it will reach us now. It should be on the ebb. You realize what this means?’

‘In what way?’ asked Ginger.

‘We’re grounded. There can be no more flying till the sea goes down.

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