07 Gimlet Bores In Page 2

  "Good enough. Thanks, but I hope that won't be necessary," returned Gimlet.

  By this time the dinghy had been inflated and launched. Like a bloated sea monster basking on the surface it floated on the softly lapping water by the open cabin door. Cub followed Copper and Trapper into it.

  Gimlet came last. "All right. Let go," he ordered.

  Copper released his hold on the aircraft and at once the ill-assorted vehicles began to drift apart.

  "Good luck, chaps," came Biggles' voice over the sullen water.

  "Thanks. Same to you. See you later," replied Gimlet.

  The aircraft became a vague silhouette that faded slowly into the surrounding gloom, leaving the dinghy alone on the gently-heaving waters.

  Gimlet took his compass from its case and sat with it on his knee. Copper

  and Trapper picked up paddles and the little craft began to move sluggishly towards the still invisible shore.

  Then for Cub began one of those queer interludes that are more in the nature of a dream than reality, with time passing imperceptibly in an unchanging scene, and eyes probing the darkness in vain for an object on which to focus.

  This phase ended, however, when the moon heralded its approach by a pallid glow in the sky, which, reflected on the water, laid a track of shimmering ripples. Soon the moon itself, a silver crescent, came up over the edge of the world, to reveal, surprisingly near, Cub thought, the black mass of the land for which they were making. This appeared as no gently shelving foreshore, offering a friendly welcome to benighted mariners, but as a towering line of crags that marched from north to south like a rampart designed by nature to keep the sea in its place—as, in fact, it did.

  Not a light showed anywhere to indicate that the land was inhabited, although considering the hour this was not surprising. A short halt was made while every member of the party made a mental photograph of the outline of the coast to enable him to recognise the spot again.

  Then the dinghy toiled on. The outline hardened, details emerging slowly from the gloom. No one spoke. The only sound was the hiss and splash of frustrated waves as they were flung back, and back again, from bulwarks of rock that yielded not an inch under their eternal onslaught.

  Nearer and nearer in crept the dinghy, its crew, old at the game, knowing just what to do without having to be told. To Cub's nostrils came the curious reek, offensive yet exhilarating, of rotting seaweed. He made out a little cove between two outflung banks of rock. He touched Gimlet on the arm and pointed to it. Gimlet made a signal. Trapper's paddle dug deep and hard, and the dinghy floated in like a dead monster cast up by the ocean. Copper went over the side, and knee deep in water hauled the boat on to a narrow strip of shingle that had formed between the rocks.

  Again for a minute no one moved, as eyes and ears strained for sight or sound of danger. It was, all knew, the most dangerous moment of the landing operation, for had there been a watcher on the cliff above, or anywhere along the shore, it was now that he would make his presence known by sounding an alarm. Cub let out a deep breath of relief when nothing happened.

  Gimlet stepped ashore. "Stand fast," he whispered, and walked on to the foot of the cliff that rose high above him. He was soon back. "All right," he said shortly. "This will suit us fine. Bring the stuff up."

  Picking up his rucksack Cub followed him and found that there was no dearth of hiding places. The cliff was almost honeycombed with small waterworn caves and cavities, any one of which would have been suitable for their purpose. Into the largest the gear was piled. The dinghy, deflated, was carried in, while Gimlet with his torch examined the recesses of the place. It was not deep, a matter of only a few yards, but the sand underfoot was dry, and the absence of seaweed suggested that it was above the normal water line.

  "I think before we do anything else we'll have something to eat," decided Gimlet. "Food is easier to carry that way, and it may be some time before we are able to have another full meal. We shall have to travel light, anyway, so the bulk of the stuff can be left here for emergencies."

  "D'you know just where we are, sir?" asked Copper, ripping the top off a can of bully with a dexterity born of long practice.

  "No," admitted Gimlet frankly. "I know the position broadly speaking, but not in any detail. The only maps available were very small scale, and a bit vague, too. But the fortress should be somewhere behind us, certainly within, say, twenty miles. We may get a better idea of things in daylight. The only actual landmark that I have to work on is a river that runs through a deep valley, or gorge, and should reach the sea not far from here. According to my information the fortress stands on some high ground looking down the gorge."

  "Are we going to stay here until morning?" asked Cub, smearing canned butter on a biscuit.

  "I'd kept an open mind about that, but as we still have a few hours of darkness left I feel inclined to use it by getting up on the higher ground," answered Gimlet. "If we did that, when it gets light we could spy the land and get an idea of what's around us. We'll make a start as soon as everyone's ready. I'm afraid it'll be slow work."

  This hastened the end of the meal. Kits were repacked, and stores not urgently required hidden under a cairn of loose rock. Gimlet then took the lead. Loads were picked up, and the party, in single file, moved off.

  For some distance the way lay along the chaos of fallen rock that followed the base of the cliff. There was no alternative, for investigation soon made it evident that to scale the cliff at this point would be an extremely hazardous, if not impossible, operation. After about a mile, however, a landslide offered a reasonable method of ascent.

  In any case, it would not have been possible to proceed otherwise, for a great mass of rock had fallen into the sea and the only way round it would have been by swimming. A stiffish climb followed, with Gimlet always a little ahead choosing the easiest route. It was hard work, but nothing more than that, and in a short time they were at the top, with the sea five hundred feet below them. Looking inland, as far as it was possible to see there was nothing but a succession of foothills behind which rose a line of jagged peaks. Gimlet said that these were part of the great Caucasian range that forms the spine of the land between the Black Sea and the Caspian.

  The ground immediately in front of them did not look too bad. It was rough, with numerous outcrops of rock that arose above a sea of scrubby vegetation. There were a few small stands of what seemed to be natural forest. A strong scent of pine revealed that the trees were a species of conifer. There was no sign anywhere of cultivation. There was no road or track in sight; nor was there a light anywhere to suggest a human habitation.

  Gimlet looked again at his wrist-watch. "Four o'clock," he observed. "We shall soon have to be looking for somewhere to lie up. When we've made a thorough survey of the place in daylight we shall know better just how the land lies. It's going to be hot tomorrow, so we shall have to find somewhere near water." He pointed half left to the outline of a hill, conical in shape, at no great distance. "If there is any water near, that would suit us for a temporary hide-out.

  We'll move in that direction. One way is as good as another at the moment."

  As he finished speaking Gimlet started off towards the hill, the others automatically dropping into file behind him.

  The foot of the immediate objective was reached without alarm, and without a living creature being seen. Another stiffish climb followed, up a rocky slope from which sprang a knee-high tangle of shrubs, and an occasional cedar tree. Each member of the party now chose the way that seemed easiest to him, without, of course, losing contact with his companions; and in doing this Cub was lucky, in that he struck what seemed to be a break in the herbage which, naturally, impeded progress.

  At first he took this to be a natural feature, due perhaps to a fault in the rock; but presently it dawned on him that it was in fact a faint track, although whether it had been made by men or animals he had no means of knowing. Looking ahead, he observed that it wound a meandering course towards
a group of cedars that stood out darkly against the moon just below the summit.

  He lost no time in conveying this information to Gimlet, whereupon the others joined him on the path—if a path it could be called. Gimlet studied it for a minute or two, and surveyed thoughtfully the timber into which it ultimately disappeared. "It's certainly a track, but I don't think it's been used lately," he remarked softly. "I was making for those trees, anyhow, so we may as well go on. Quiet, now. If there's a house up there no doubt there will be dogs. If so, if they hear us, they'll give us away."

  In twenty minutes or so the question was answered. There was a house, of sorts, in the trees. After a cautious approach it turned out to be an abandoned ruin, consisting of a single chamber, built of rough stones, about eighteen feet square, to which a doorless opening gave access.

  Ancient goat droppings made it clear that a long time had passed since the place had a human occupier. Gimlet, exploring, called attention to a rough cross over the doorway. "What I think we've struck is an ancient hermit's cell," he observed. "

  In the early days of Christian fervour there was hardly a hill of any size in Eastern Europe without its hermit. Heaven only knows how old this place is. It might even date back to biblical days. Queer things have happened in this country. Incidentally, it was somewhere near here that St. George was supposed to have slain the dragon. But never mind ancient history. The place should suit us admirably for the time being. Tidy up the floor a bit, Copper, and we'll throw some grass on it. Cub, you might look around to see if you can find a spring. If someone once lived here there must be water handy."

  In the light of a waning moon Cub wandered around, and it was not long before he found what

  he sought—a little well into which trickled water from an underground supply. A crude potsherd

  beaker still lay beside it, and as he picked it up he couldn't help wondering what hand had last held it. It was obviously very, very old. He went back and reported to Gimlet, who expressed his satisfaction.

  Trapper, who with his jack-knife was cutting scrub for beds, made another discovery.

  This was a fruit of some sort. He had bumped his head against it while passing under a bushy tree. He held up a specimen, which was soon identified as a pomegranate.

  "If the old buffer who lived 'ere lived on pomegranates 'e must 'ave 'ad the pip,"

  remarked Copper. "Ha! That's a joke. I must remember that one."

  There were smiles as the work proceeded until a fairly comfortable bivouac had been made.

  "All right, you fellows. Turn in now and get some sleep," ordered Gimlet.

  "I'll take first watch."

  CHAPTER III

  INTO THE UNKNOWN

  DAWN broke without a sound; at first with a glow that made the whole sky blush and turned the distant peaks to points of fire. Then, with majestic dignity, came the sun itself, to reveal a landscape that was inspiring in its wild magnificence, a scene in which the hand of man was nowhere visible. To the east, filling the horizon, rose the mighty backbone of the land, higher and yet higher until the topmost summits seemed to be holding up the dome of heaven.* On the lower slopes, still shrouded in sombre shadows, one darker than the rest marked the limit of the timber line, while from the valleys rose billowing mist as white as bonfire smoke.

  The ground around the knoll on which Copper lay watching, with steady thoughtful eyes, was in plain view; and here the picture was as pleasant as nature in a rugged mood could make it. Wild flowers and shrubs of many sorts grew in profusion, with occasional groups of trees, or outcrops of rock, to lend variety. So slowly as to be almost imperceptible the hues of dawn drained from the sky to

  * The Caucasus Range of mountains, goo miles in length, is sometimes reckoned to be the boundary between Europe and Asia. The highest peak is Mount Elbruz (59,000 ft.).

  Mts. Koshtantau and Kazbek both rise about 17,000 ft. Eleven others are more than 10, 000 ft.

  leave it an infinity of palest egg-shell blue, without a blemish to mar its pristine purity.

  There was not a movement anywhere. Even the air was still, giving promise of the heat of the day to come.

  Copper, whose turn it had been to mount guard, backed into the cell where the others lay, still sleeping. "Show a leg there—show a leg there," he requested curtly. "The sun's up.

  You're wastin' daylight."

  The recumbent figures stirred, yawning.

  Gimlet was first on his feet. "Trapper, lay on some breakfast," he ordered. "Cub, fetch some water. No tea this morning. I'm not risking lighting a fire." He joined Copper in the doorway. "Anything doing?" he asked, taking his binoculars from their case.

  "Not a thing," answered Copper. "Looks like we've got it all to ourselves."

  "It may look that way, but I doubt it," returned Gimlet, subjecting the landscape to a thorough scrutiny.

  "Looks safe enough ter make a move," suggested Copper.

  "I feel inclined to take a chance on it," agreed Gimlet. "We should save a lot of time.

  Blundering about this sort of country in the dark is slow work. We'll try it and see how things go."

  "Which way do you reckon to aim for, sir?" inquired Copper.

  "I shall strike off south-east," informed Gimlet. "That is, diagonally inland. In that way I think we're bound to come on the river that is our guide to the fort. When I discussed the matter with Bigglesworth I told him to put us down a few miles north of the estimated position of the objective, and no doubt he did that. The river may be five, ten, or even twenty miles away. I don't know. But by heading south we're bound to strike it eventually. By working inland at the same time we shall get on higher ground, and so command a better view of the country. Stand fast.

  Don't show yourself in the open in case there are eyes about. I'll send you some breakfast."

  Gimlet went back into the cell, and over a meal of biscuit, bully and jam, informed the others of his decision.

  In twenty minutes, with all signs of their brief occupation carefully removed, the party was ready to move off. Copper had nothing to report, so with Gimlet in the lead the expedition moved off down the hill.

  Reaching the plain below the positions were changed. Trapper, the most experienced scout, went on ahead to reconnoitre the ground, the rest following in silence.

  Steady progress was made in this order, over gently rising ground, without incident of any sort, for upwards of an hour, by which time the sun was making its presence felt. The only living creature seen was an eagle that soared high in the blue. Then Gimlet raised a hand, bringing the party to a halt, as Trapper, bending low, came back, obviously with something to say.

  "I think we are approaching a village, or a farm perhaps," he reported.

  "There is a smell of goats.

  Also, there are some vines and apricot trees. They look wild, but some fruit has lately been picked. We had better go slowly now, till we see what this is."

  "Wait," said Gimlet softly. "I heard something. Listen."

  This precaution was rewarded when, a minute later, a kid bleated, no great distance away. Following this came a sound as strange as in the circumstances could have been imagined. It was a mellow piping, as if someone was playing on a tin whistle—a melancholy tune, in a queer minor key.

  Beyond the fact that it announced the presence of a human being there was nothing particularly alarming about this. In fact, Cub found it rather pleasant, in that it gave life to what had begun to seem like a dead land. But the next development was disconcerting, to say the least of it.

  There came a sudden swishing, as if someone, or something, was advancing through the brushwood, and a moment later a ferocious-looking hound, a type of mastiff, appeared about a dozen yards away. Apparently it had caught their taint, for immediately on seeing the strangers it broke into a furious snarling, rolling back its lips to reveal formidable teeth.

  The piping ended abruptly. A voice, the voice of a boy rather than a man, could be heard calling. The hound, still givin
g tongue to its anger, after a little while obeyed, backing away with obvious reluctance.

  For some minutes no one moved. All stood still, listening intently. Then Trapper wormed his way forward, to return after a short absence to report that a youth was driving a herd of goats in the opposite direction. The hound was with him.

  "He couldn't have seen us, but the dog must have told him that someone was here, and he isn't taking any chances of running into trouble,"

  murmured Gimlet. "He may go home and raise an alarm, so we'd better push on while we can. The district isn't as depopulated as it would appear. We shall have to be careful. Go ahead, Trapper."

  The march continued in the same order as before, over ground that inclined steadily upwards towards the foothills of the main range. The charred ruins of a house were passed, with a tangle of overgrown vines, nut shrubs and orange trees, marking what had once been a garden.

  "Looks like they've 'ad a fire 'ere," remarked Copper, glancing at the blackened ruin. "No fire brigade 'andy, I reckon."

  The next feature was a ridge, with some awkward going, one leg up and the other down, on the far side. A valley was crossed, with a tiny brook of ice cold water from the high tops running through it. Here a halt was called for a rest and a drink, for the heat now being flung down by the still mounting sun was considerable, and everyone was perspiring.

  "Lookin' for a town, never mind a single building, in this joint, is a nice game played slow," observed Copper, mopping his face with an already damp handkerchief. "Wot say you, Trapper ole chum?" "You've said it, pal," agreed Trapper.

  Gimlet ignored the remark. "Let's push on," he ordered. "If we can strike the river before it gets dark we shall have made a good start. The higher we get the more likely are we to spot it, although against that, the more likely are we to be seen from the lower ground.