Adventure Unlimited Read online

  ADVENTURE UNLIMITED CHAPTER 1

  A COMPANY IS BORN

  WHAT have you been doing with yourself lately, Pompey ? " Digger' Driscoll's bright blue eyes came to rest on the broad, ugly face of the man sitting on his left at a table for four in one of the smaller London restaurants.

  Pompey moved uncomfortably under the scrutiny. 'Well—er—just drifting around the docks, to see if I could spot any old shipmates.'

  'In other words, you've done nothing but loaf about killing time,'

  challenged Digger.

  What else was there to do ? ' inquired Pompey plaintively.

  Digger shifted his gaze to the boy who sat opposite. What about you, Tommy ? '

  I haven't been doing anything either,' con-fessed Tommy unashamedly.

  Why not ?‘

  What was there to do ? Didn't seem much sense working when I had more money than I could spend.'

  Again Digger's eyes shifted, this time to the young man on his right.

  'How about you, Batty ? '

  The ex-soldier shook his head sadly. You've got me, chum. My answer's the same as the others. What could I do by myself, any old how ? '

  Digger considered his guests collectively. Just as I thought,' he averred. Wasting your time. Going to seed, the lot of you. Presently you'll be so soft you'll sneeze if the wind blows.'

  'Easy on your oars, mate,' protested Pompey. 'How about you ? Suppose we ask what you've been a'doing of ? '

  'I've been working,' informed Digger evenly. Pompey looked astonished.

  Wot 'ave you got to work for ? Lost your dough ? '

  No. That's put away for a rainy day when I can't work.' Digger finished his coffee, filled his pipe and sat back. Now listen here,' he adjured.

  Do you remember my telling you soon after we first met, when the talk was of gold hunting, that the worst thing that could happen to a prospector was to strike it rich ? The reason being that having knocked out his main interest in life, which was finding the stuff, having nothing to do he gets so bored that he's soon ready to dig his own grave.'

  Tommy nodded. Yes. I remember. You said most of the lucky ones got rid of their money pronto in order to have a reason for hitting the trail again.'

  Exactly. To some people that wouldn't make sense ; but the fact is, people who live that sort of life, the sort of life I've led, find it mighty hard to settle down. I'm an old hand, and I know what I'm talking about. I've seen too many fellers end up as pub crawlers, ruining their health and having their money taken off them by a mob of sycophants.'

  Pompey looked amazed. Where do the elephants come from ?

  I didn't say anything about elephants,' came back Digger curtly. I said sycophants—

  hangerson ; oily types who do a lot of back-patting for what they can get out of you. But let me finish. A couple of months ago we struck lucky when we dropped on a parcel of yellow metal, with the result that, in spite of my warning, as far as I can see you're all on the way to becoming a lot of overfed loafers.'

  Half a mo', chum,' protested Batty. What's the use of money if you don't use it ? '

  It's useful to have by you when something happens to prevent you from ever getting any more. That's why I've put mine away, keeping only enough to grub-stake me for my next trip. I asked you to meet me here tonight to tell you I'm on my way out.'

  'Out where ? ' demanded Pompey.

  I haven't finally decided. I thought I'd have a word with you first. I've got my affairs tidied up, and I've been round the raw material markets to find out what's in most demand. That's everything I can do here, so tomorrow I shall start packing my kit.'

  For somewhere dangerous ? ' put in Tommy eagerly.

  Listen, kid,' answered Digger earnestly.

  We're in the most dangerous place on earth right now. This traffic has got my nerves on the jump faster than anything I've ever met in any jungle. I'm pulling out of it before some lunatic on wheels flattens me on the pavement. Does anyone who hasn't had enough adventure want to come with me ? Don't all speak at once.'

  Pompey slapped his thigh. Now you're a'talking. Up comes the mudhook.'

  That goes for me,' declared Batty.

  I'm ready when you are,' stated Tommy. Now tell us, what exactly is the idea ? '

  First, forget the romantic angle. This is serious business, so to start with anyone who wants to come with me will put a sum of money into a common fund from which all expenses will be paid. In other words, we form a company.'

  That means it'll have to have a name,' asserted Batty. How can we give ourselves a name till we know what we're going to do ? '

  Aw shucks ! ' growled Pompey. What does it matter what we do ? '

  Years ago companies like ours gave themselves high-sounding names, like the Honourable Company of Merchant Adventurers Trading into Hudson's Bay

  'Here, hold hard,' protested Pompey. That's too much of a mouthful. Let's have something short and sweet.'

  How about the Gold Syndicate,' suggested Batty, lighting a cigarette.

  And tell everyone what we're doing ? ' queried Digger sarcastically. The less we say about gold the better. Besides, I shan't necessarily be looking for gold. How about Adventure, Limited ? That would cover everything without telling anybody anything.'

  Seems to me,' said Tommy, judging from what happened last time, Adventure Unlimited would be nearer the mark.'

  The boy's right—hit the nail on the head,' asserted Pompey.

  Adventure Unlimited, sounds just the thing,' agreed Batty.

  Right,' assented Digger.

  Adventure Unlimited it is.'

  But we must have some definite object to look for,' went on Tommy. 'What about a treasure ? Are there any treasures left to be found, Digger ? '

  Plenty,' admitted Digger. And plenty of people who have spent most of their lives looking for them,' he added grimly.

  'Do you know about them ? ' asked Tommy. Every globe-trotting adventurer knows about them.'

  Then let's look for one,' said Tommy. Tell us about them and we'll choose one to go for.'

  Digger shook his head sadly. Still romancing ! Although there are many treasures which exist beyond dispute, and probably a great many more about which nothing is known—

  the gold we found could well have come into that category—do you know how long it is since one was found ? Getting on for three hundred years—and that in spite of hundreds of expeditions, some of them fitted out with the most modern equipment. That should give you an idea of the chances of success. Forget it.'

  Who was the last man to find a treasure ? ' pressed Tommy.

  A sailor named Captain Phips, away back in 1687. He found an old Spanish galleon that had gone down off the coast of Hispaniola, and arrived back in London with gold worth three hundred thousand pounds. That would be worth more than a million today.

  Incidentally, he'd formed a company, so the people who had put money into it came out with a handsome profit.'

  There you are ! ' cried Tommy. You see, it can be done.'

  Strangely enough, most of the authentic treasures are on or around the continent where we found ours—South America,' resumed Digger. There's a whole string of them.

  Perhaps the best known is the famous Cocos Island treasure, possibly because of its comparatively recent date. In 1821, when the South American states were fighting for independence, the people of Lima, in Peru, fell into a panic on the approach of hostile forces, and put all their gold and treasure into a brig named Mary Dear, commanded by a Captain Thompson. He bolted with what must have been the most fantastic treasure of all time—gold statues, ornaments, gems and coin reckoned to be worth around twenty million pounds. He didn't get away with it. The brig was overtaken at Cocos Island, of
f the coast of Costa Rica, and the crew put to death. But the treasure had disappeared. Thompson said it had been hidden on the island, but from that day to this no-one has been able to find it.'

  That' d be a nice little packet to drop on,' said Batty.

  'It would,' conceded Digger. So would the equally famous Inca treasure, which disappeared when the Incas learned that the invading Spaniards under Pizarro had murdered their king. Another lot of gold said to be worth twelve million vanished when the Jesuits were driven out of Bolivia. There's another nice collection on the island of Trinidad—not the Trinidad in the West Indies, but another in the South Atlantic, seven hundred miles from the coast of Brazil. It consisted of gold and silver plate from the cathedral of Lima, in Peru, and was on its way to Spain for safety when it was captured by a pirate named Benito de Soto, who hid it on Trinidad, which must be one of the most horrible lumps of land in any ocean. It's a mass of volcanic rock on which the seas lash with such fury that it's only possible to land on it once or twice a year. As if that wasn't enough it swarms with gigantic crabs that make the place a nightmare. Later the pirates were caught and hanged, since when all attempts to locate the hoard have failed.' Digger tapped his pipe gently in the ashtray. I could go on like this half the night, but what's the use of talking ? I'm not wasting my time or money on what has proved to be less productive of results than chasing wild geese.'

  Tommy looked disappointed. Then what about trying for one of the lesser treasures ? '

  he suggested. Do you know of any ? '

  I know of several,' admitted Digger.

  But

  before we go any further let me remind you that even if you find a treasure it doesn't mean you can keep it. You have to hand it over to the Government of the country concerned. Even here there's a law about what

  is called Treasure Trove, under which any treasure found must go to the Crown, the finder, admittedly, getting a share of the value.'

  Have you ever done any treasure hunting yourself ? ' asked Batty.

  No, but I once gave serious thought to looking for a lost gold mine, if you like to call that a treasure.'

  Was that in South America ? '

  No. Central America. British Honduras, to be precise.'

  How did that come about ? '

  I was up the Rio Hondo with a canoe worked by four Negro paddlers looking for anything that might be turned into money. I hadn't done very well so we turned into one of the small tributaries to try new ground. A couple of days later we met a dugout drifting downstream. In it was one man, a white. He was rotten with fever and had a wound in the arm that had turned septic. I did what I could for him but he died the next day. It turned out he was one of those people who believe that the ancient Mayas got their gold from mines which must still exist, and he had set off to find one.'

  'Who were the Mayas ? ' questioned Tommy.

  Digger sighed. 'I might have expected that. The Mayas were a mysterious race that occupied Central America from before the Christian Era until the fifteenth century.

  Where they came from we don't know, but they founded a great civilisation. They were ahead of Europe in some things. For example, they knew the world was round. Now the cities they built are overgrown with jungle. What happened to them is a mystery. They faded away, although some of the Indians there now may have descended from them. But I was telling you about this chap I found. He'd run into trouble. His men had bolted, he'd lost his stores—it's an old story. But the point is, he'd found gold. He assured me it was there, up the river, and to prove it he produced from under his shirt a bag with some dust and fair-sized nuggets.

  He was about to give me details when he went into a coma, from which he never came round. He said something about a waterfall and a portage ; but he was incoherent and I couldn't follow him. That's all. I buried him the next day, and that was that. I reported his death to the authorities when I got back to Belize, the capital.'

  But surely you followed this up ! ' exclaimed Tommy.

  'I did for as long as my stores lasted, and rain in the hills put the river in spate to prevent further progress. Moreover, Indians were watching us, and I didn't like the look of them.

  I fancy they were a raiding party from over the border. It's dangerous country up there near the frontier for more reasons than one.'

  And did you never go back ? ' questioned Pompey.

  No. I always intended to, but what with reports of the natives being restless and Negro porters being unwilling to take the risks I never got around to it. I don't go about looking for trouble, and there were other places.'

  What were Negroes doing there ? ' asked Pompey. 'I thought they lived in Africa.'

  You'll find them all along that part of the American seaboard. They're mostly the descendants of the Africans who ran away from the plantations in the bad old days of the slave trade. Anyhow, I made a little profit on that trip, bringing back a few animal and bird skins for museums, a couple of bales of orchids and sundry flower seeds which were taken by horticultural institutions. I also found an extra large form of cacao, which grows wild there, and sold the seeds to a planter.'

  What's cacao ? ' murmured Tommy nervously.

  You should know,' retorted Digger. The plant that provides the world with chocolate.

  Talking of plants reminds me that aside from the gold incident another queer thing happened on that trip. I saw an Indian woman on the river bank with the most lovely blue flower stuck in her hair, and if it wasn't a rose I'll eat my hat. Think what a blue rose would be worth over here !

  When I tried to get near the lady for a closer look she bolted.

  I spent hours hunting for the plant but I never found it.'

  A blue rose ? ' muttered Batty.

  It doesn't seem possible.'

  Neither did a blue poppy until some were found in the Himalayas,'

  returned Digger dryly.

  That goes for a lot of other things too. There are still prizes to be collected in the back of beyond, although as time goes on it becomes harder to find anything new.'

  'Okay,' broke in Pompey. Let's go. You pick the posies while I shovel the gold.'

  Digger considered him pensively, slowly shaking his head. I think it's time I told you fellers to stop kidding yourselves about gold hunting.

  Prospecting is tied up with the science of geology, and none of you knows the first thing about it. Without me you wouldn't have a hope. You wouldn't know where to look and you wouldn't recognise the stuff if you saw it.'

  Wouldn't recognise it ! ' cried Tommy.

  That's what I said. Forget this idea of yours that gold always comes out of the ground in nice big yellow lumps. It can be black and it can be grey. The stuff that looks most like gold usually isn't gold at all. It's iron pyrites—fool's gold, the old hands call it. You don't find pure gold anyway. It's always alloyed, to a more or less extent, with another metal—

  iron, copper, silver, platinum.'

  Go on,' urged Tommy. I've always wanted to know about this.'

  Digger looked at his watch.

  All right, as

  we're in no hurry. Gold is found in certain geographical localities in company with certain rocks. That includes sand and gravel, which are merely rocks that have decomposed or been ground small, usually by the action of water. So to start with, as gold doesn't occur in every kind of rock you have to know the difference between quartz, porphyry, hornblende, gneiss, felspar, schist—and so on.'

  Here, go easy,' pleaded Pompey. Do we have to know all this ? '

  Digger smiled. It helps. It's no use digging in the wrong place, is it ?

  You see, originally the gold was held in rock of some sort, in the form of dust, flakes, or small pieces sometimes called nuggets. As the rock crumbles under the action of water or extremes of temperature the gold gets loose and falls out ; so the best place to start looking is in an old river bed, dry or otherwise. Very well. As the gold falls out, being heavy it sinks into the silt, and it will continue to
sink until it comes up against something hard, rock or slate, for instance, and there it stays. The prospector, therefore, finding indications of gold in sand or gravel, digs down to the hard layer, knowing that if there is any quantity of gold that's where he'll find it.' Digger refilled his pipe.

  Now then,' he resumed. The prospector, having found some dust, starts working his way uphill hoping to find the lode, or matrix '—the original rock—from which the gold started. Normally, the nearer one gets to it the more gold one finds, the larger pieces having remained where they first fell. The hard layer I spoke about may be only just under the surface, or it may be some distance down, so you search the holes and crevices into which the gold may have fallen in times of flood. That's the commonest way of finding gold. If you're lucky enough to strike the mother lode you'll find pieces of the stuff embedded in the rock.' Digger grinned.

  'Of course, before you go to all this trouble it's a good thing to make sure the stuff is really gold.'

  How do you do that ? ' inquired Tommy.

  There are several simple tests. If it's a flake or a nugget you can scratch it with the point of your knife. You won't scratch iron pyrites.

  It's too hard. I always carry mercury and nitric acid. Anything that sticks to mercury is gold. Nitric acid won't touch gold, but it will act on any base metal, setting free some gas. Of course, there's a lot more to it, but that's enough to go on with. One day you may see all this in practice.'

  The sooner the better,' declared Tommy. I'm all for looking for this lost mine.'

  We could try it,' agreed Digger. At least we know the stuff is there, or thereabouts, and I have the advantage of knowing the country. Moreover, it's British territory.'

  Is there going to be a lot of walking on this jaunt ? ' asked Pompey anxiously.

  Not more than I can prevent, you may be sure,' replied Digger. There's only one way to get about, and that's by the rivers. Now that we have some capital I see no need to start paddling from the coast. A motor launch with a shallow draught, and a canoe in tow for up-river work, would be the ideal thing.

  With four of us we shouldn't need a native crew. Natives have their points, but they can also be a confounded nuisance if things don't go the way they want them.'