Chapter 1
FOUR MISERABLE INVALIDS

'POOR Polly!' said a small sad voice outside the bedroom door. 'Poor Polly! Blow your nose, poor
Polly!'
There was the sound of loud sniffs, and after that came a hacking cough. Then there was a
silence, as if the person outside the door was listening to see if there was any answer.
Jack sat up in bed and looked across at Philip in the opposite bed.
'Philip — do you feel you can bear to let Kiki come in? She sounds so miserable.'
Philip nodded. 'All right. So long as she doesn't screech or make too much noise. My head's
better, thank goodness!'
Jack got out of bed and went rather unsteadily to the door. He and Philip, and the two girls as
well, had had influenza quite badly, and were still feeling rather weak. Philip had had it worst, and
hadn't been able to bear Kiki the parrot in the bedroom. She imitated their coughs and sneezes and
sniffs, and poor Philip, much as he loved birds and animals, felt as if he could throw slippers and
books and anything handy at the puzzled parrot.
Kiki came sidling in at the door, her crest well down. 'Poor thing,' said Jack, and she flew up to
his shoulder at once. 'You've never been kept out before, have you? Well, nobody likes your kind
of noises when their head is splitting, Kiki, old thing. You nearly drove Philip mad when you gave
your imitation of an aeroplane in trouble!'
'Don't!' said Philip, shuddering to think of it. 'I feel as if I'll never laugh at Kiki's noises again.'
He coughed and felt for his handkerchief under the pillow.
Kiki coughed too, but very discreetly. Jack smiled. 'It's no good, Kiki,' he said. 'You haven't
got the flu, so it's no use pretending you have.'
'Flue, flue, sweep the flue,' said Kiki at once, and gave a small cackle of laughter.
'No, we're not quite ready yet to laugh at your idiotic remarks, Kiki,' said Jack, getting back
into bed. 'Can't you produce a nice bedside manner — quiet voice, and sympathetic nods and all
that?'
'Poor Polly,' said Kiki, and nestled as close to Jack's neck as she could. She gave a tremendous
sigh.
'Don't — not down my neck, please,' said Jack. 'You are feeling sorry for yourself, Kiki! Cheer
up. We're all better today and our temperatures are down. We'll soon be up and about, and I bet
Aunt Allie will be glad. Four wretched invalids must have kept her hands full.'
The door opened cautiously, and Aunt Allie looked in. 'Ah — you're both awake,' she said.
'How do you feel? Would you like some more lime juice?'
'No, thanks,' said Jack. 'I tell you what I suddenly — quite suddenly — feel like, Aunt Allie —
and that's a boiled egg with bread-and-butter! It came over me all at once that that was what I
wanted more than anything else in the world!'
Aunt Allie laughed. 'Oh — you are better then. Do you want an egg too, Philip?'
'No, thanks,' said Philip. 'Nothing for me.'
'Poor boy, poor boy,' said Kiki, raising her head to look at Philip. She gave a small cackle.
'Shut up,' said Philip. 'I'm not ready to be laughed at yet, Kiki. You'll be turned out of the room
again if you talk too much.'
'Silence, Kiki!' said Jack and gave the parrot a small tap on the beak. She sank down into his
neck at once. She didn't mind being silent, if only she were allowed to stay with her beloved Jack.
'How are the two girls?' asked Jack.
'Oh, much better,' said Aunt Allie. 'Better than you two are. They are playing a game of cards
together. They wanted to know if they could come into your room this evening and talk.'
'I'd like that,' said Jack. 'But Philip wouldn't, would you, Phil?'
'I'll see,' said Philip, grumpily. 'I still feel awfully bad-tempered. Sorry.'
'It's all right, Philip,' said his mother. 'You're on the mend — you'll feel yourself tomorrow!'
She was right. By the evening of the next day Philip was very lively, and Kiki was allowed to
chatter and sing as much as she liked. She was even allowed to make her noise of an express train
racing through a tunnel, which brought Mrs. Cunningham up the stairs at once.
'Oh no!' she said. 'Not that noise in the house, please, Kiki! I can't bear it!'
Dinah looked at her mother, and reached out her hand to her. 'Mother, you've had an awful time
looking after the four of us. I'm glad you didn't get the flu too. You look very pale. You don't think
you're going to have it, do you?'
'No, of course not,' said her mother. 'I'm only just a bit tired racing up and down the stairs for
the four of you. But you'll soon be up and about — and off to school!'
Four groans sounded at once — and then a fifth as Kiki joined in delightedly, adding the biggest
groan of the lot.
'School!' said Jack, in disgust. 'Why did you remind us of that, Aunt Allie? Anyway I hate
going back after the term's begun — everyone has settled down and knows what's what, and you
feel almost like a new boy.'
'You are sorry for yourselves!' said Mrs. Cunningham, with a laugh. 'Well, go on with your
game — but do NOT let Kiki imitate aeroplanes, trains, cars or lawn-mowers.'
'Right,' said Jack, and addressed himself sternly to Kiki. 'Hear that, old thing? Behave yourself
— if you can.'
'Mother does look a bit off-colour, doesn't she?' said Philip, dealing out the cards. 'I hope Bill
will take her for a holiday when he comes back from wherever he is.'
'Where is he? And hasn't anyone heard from him lately?' asked Dinah, picking up her cards.
'Well, you know what old Bill is — always on some secret hush-hush job for the Government,'
said Philip. 'I think Mother always knows where he is, but nobody else does. He'll pop up out of
the blue sooner or later.'
Bill was Mrs. Cunningham's husband. He had married her not so very long ago, when she was
the widowed Mrs. Mannering, and had taken on Dinah and Philip, her own children, and the other
two, Jack and Lucy-Ann, who had always looked on her as an aunt. They had no parents of their
own. All of them were very fond of the clever, determined Bill, whose job so often took him into
danger of all kinds.
'I hope Bill will come back before we return to school,' said Jack. 'We haven't seen him for
ages. Let's see — it's almost October now — and he went off into the blue at the beginning of
September.'
'Disguised!' said Lucy-Ann, remembering. 'Disguised as an old man, do you remember? I
couldn't think who the old, bent fellow was who was sitting with Mother that night he left. Even his
hair was different.'
'He had a wig,' said Jack. 'Buck up, Dinah — it's your turn. Have you got the king or have you
not?'
Dinah played her card, and then turned to the radio-set nearby. 'Let's have the radio on, shall
we?' she said. 'I feel as if I'd like to hear it tonight. Philip, can you bear it?'
'Yes,' said Philip. 'Don't pity me any more. I'm as right as rain now. Gosh — when I think how
miserable I was I really feel ashamed. I wouldn't have been surprised if I'd burst into tears at any
time!'
'You did once,' said Jack, unfeelingly. 'I saw you. You looked most peculiar.'
'Shut up,' said Philip, in a fierce voice. 'And don't tell fibs. Dinah, that set's not tuned in
properly. Here, let me do it — you girls are never any good at that sort of thing! Dinah — let me do
it, I said. Blow you!'
'Aha! Our Philip is quite himself again!' said Jack, seeing one of the familiar brother-and-sister
quarrels beginning to spring up once more. 'You've got it, now, Philip — it's bang on the station.
Ah — it's a skit on a burglary with John Jordans in it. It should be funny. Let's listen.'
It was funny, and Aunt Allie, having a quiet rest downstairs, was pleased to hear sudden roars of
laughter upstairs. Then she heard a loud and prolonged whistle and frowned. That tiresome parrot!
But it wasn't Kiki. It was John Jordans in the comical play. He was the policeman, and was
blowing his police whistle — pheeeeeeee! Then someone yelled 'Police! Police!' and the whistle
blew again.
'Police, police!' yelled Kiki too, and produced a marvellous imitation of the whistle
'PHEEEEEEEE! Police! Police! PHEEEEEEEEEEEE!'
'Shut up, Kiki! If you shout and whistle as loudly as that you'll have the real police here!' said
Jack. 'Oh, my goodness! — I hope Kiki doesn't start doing this police-whistle business. She'll get
us into no end of trouble! Kiki — if you shout "Police" once more, I'll put you down at the very
bottom of the bed.'
Before Kiki could make any reply, a knock came on the bedroom door — a most imperious
knock that made them all jump. A loud voice came through the door.
'Who wants the police? They're here. Open in the name of the law!'
The door opened slowly, and the startled children watched in amazement. What did this mean?
Had the police really come?
A face came round the door, a smiling face, round and ruddy and twinkling, one that the children
knew well and loved.
'BILL!' cried four voices, and the children leapt out of bed at once, and ran to the tall, sturdy
man at the door. 'Oh, Bill — you've come back! We never heard you come home. Good old Bill!'

Chapter 2
WHAT A SURPRISE!

BILL came right into the room and sat down on Jack's bed. Kiki gave a loud cackle of pleasure and
flew to his shoulder, nipping the lobe of his ear gently. Aunt Allie came in too, smiling happily,
looking quite different now that Bill had arrived.
'Well, what's this I hear about four miserable invalids?' said Bill, putting an arm round each of
the two girls. 'You'll have to get up now I'm back, you know. Can't have you lazing in bed like
this!'
'We're getting up tomorrow at teatime,' said Lucy-Ann. 'Bill, where have you been? Tell us!'
'Sorry, old thing. Can't say a word,' said Bill.
'Oh — very hush-hush then!' said Dinah, disappointed. 'Are you going to stay at home now?'
'As far as I know,' said Bill. 'I sincerely hope so. It looks to me as if somebody ought to look
after your mother now. She's gone thin. WHY did you all have to have flu together, so that she
couldn't have any of you to help her?'
'It was very selfish of us!' said Jack. 'And even you were away too, Bill. Never mind —
everything seems all right when you're here — doesn't it, Aunt Allie?'
Mrs. Cunningham nodded. 'Yes. Everything!' she said. 'Shall we all have a picnic meal up here
in the bedroom, children, so that we can have a good old talk with Bill?'
It was a very hilarious meal, with Kiki more ridiculous than usual, blowing her police-whistle
whenever she felt like it. Everyone got tired of this new trick very quickly, even Bill.
'Bill! Bill, pay the bill, silly-billy, silly-bill!' shouted Kiki. She got a sharp tap on the beak from
Jack.
'No rudery,' said Jack. 'Behave yourself, Kiki.'
Kiki flew down to the floor, very hurt. 'Poor Kiki, poor, poor,' she muttered to herself and
disappeared under the bed, where she found an old slipper and spent a pleasant half-hour pecking
off the button.
Everyone talked, asked questions, laughed and felt happy. The flu was quite forgotten. But about
half-past nine Lucy-Ann suddenly went pale and flopped down on the bed.
'We've overdone it!' said Bill. 'I forgot they'd all had a pretty bad time. Come on, Lucy-Ann,
I'll carry you to bed! Dinah, can you walk to your room?'
Next day the doctor came as usual, and was pleased with all four. 'Up to tea today — up after
breakfast tomorrow,' he said. 'Then up the same time as usual.'
'When can they go back to school, Doctor?' asked Mrs. Cunningham.
'Not yet,' said the doctor, much to the children's surprise. 'They must go somewhere for
convalescence — ten days or a fortnight, say. Somewhere warm and sunny. This flu they've had is
a bad kind — they will feel very down all winter if they don't go away somewhere. Can you
manage that, Mrs. Cunningham?'
'We'll see about it all right,' said Bill. 'But I'm not letting my wife go with them, Doctor. She
needs a holiday herself now after so much illness in the house — and it wouldn't be much of a
holiday for her to be with these four live wires. Leave it to me.'
'Right,' said the doctor. 'Well, I'll be in on Saturday, just to see that everything goes well.
Goodbye!'
'A holiday!' said Dinah, as soon as the door had closed. 'I say! What a bit of luck! I thought
we'd have to go straight back to school!'
There was a conference about what was best to be done. 'It's October tomorrow,' said Bill, 'and
the weather forecast isn't too good. Rain and wind and fog! What a climate we have! It's a pity
they can't go abroad, Allie.'
'They can't go abroad without anyone responsible in charge,' said his wife. 'We'll have to find
somewhere on the south coast, and send them there.'
But all the plans were altered very suddenly and dramatically. On Friday night, very late, the
telephone-bell shrilled through the house, and awoke Bill and his wife, and also Kiki, whose ears
were sharper than anyone's. She imitated the bell under her breath, but didn't wake the boys. She
cocked up her crest and listened. She could hear Bill speaking in a low voice on the telephone
extension in his bedroom along the landing. Then there was a clink, and the little ping that sounded
whenever the telephone receiver was put back into place.
'Ping!' muttered Kiki. 'Ping pong! Ping!' She put her head under her wing again, and went to
sleep, perched comfortably on the edge of the mantelpiece. The children all slept peacefully, not
guessing what changes in their plans that telephone call was going to mean!
In the morning Bill was not at breakfast. All the children were down, and Lucy-Ann had even
got down early enough to help to lay the table. They were pale, and rather languid, but very
cheerful, and looking forward now to their holiday, even though the place chosen did not seem at
all exciting — a quiet little village by the sea.
'Where's Bill?' asked Dinah, in surprise at his empty place. 'I didn't hear him whistling while
he was shaving. Has he gone out for an early-morning walk or something?'
'No, dear — he had to leave hurriedly in the middle of the night,' said her mother, looking
depressed. 'He had a telephone call — didn't the bell wake you? Something urgent again, and
Bill's advice badly needed, of course! So he took the car and shot off. He'll be back about eleven, I
expect. I only hope it doesn't mean that he'll have to race off again somewhere, and disappear for
weeks. It would be too bad so soon after he had come back!'
Bill returned about half-past eleven, and put the car away. He came whistling in at the side door,
to be met by an avalanche of children.
'Bill! Where have you been? You haven't got to go away again, have you?' cried Dinah.
'Let me go, you limpets!' said Bill, shaking them off. 'Where's your mother, Dinah?'
'In the sitting-room,' said Dinah. 'Hurry up and talk to her. We want to hear your news too.'
Bill went into the sitting-room and shut the door firmly. The four children looked at one another.
'I bet he'll be sent off on another hush-hush affair,' said Jack, gloomily. 'Poor Aunt Allie — just
when she was looking forward to having him on a little holiday all to herself!'
Half an hour went by and the talking was still going on in the sitting-room, very low and earnest.
Then the door was flung open and Bill yelled for the children.
'Where are you, kids? Come along in — we've finished our talk.'
They all trooped in, Kiki on Jack's shoulder as usual, murmuring something about 'One-two,
buckle my shoe, one-shoe, buckle my two!'
'Shut up, Kiki,' said Jack. 'No interruptions, now!'
'Listen,' said Bill, when the children were all in the room and sitting down. 'I've got to go off
again.'
Everyone groaned. 'Oh, Bill!' said Lucy-Ann. 'We were afraid of that. And you've only just
come back.'
'Where are you going?' asked Jack.
'That I'm not quite sure about,' said Bill. 'But briefly — and in strict confidence, mind — I've
got to go and cast an eye on a man our Government are a bit suspicious of — they don't quite know
what he's up to. It may not be anything, of course — but we just want to be sure. And they want me
to fly out and spend a few days round about where he is and glean a few facts.'
'Oh! So you may not be long?' said Philip.
'I don't know. Maybe three or four days, maybe a fortnight,' said Bill. 'But two things are
important — one, that nobody suspects I'm out there for any Government purpose — and two, that
as the climate where I'm going is warm and summery, I feel you'd better all come too!'
There was a dead silence as this sank in — then a perfect chorus of shrieks and exclamations.
Lucy-Ann flung herself on Bill.
'All of us! Aunt Allie too! Oh, how marvellous! But how can you take us as well?'
'Well, as I told you — nobody must suspect I'm a lone investigator snooping about on my own,'
said Bill. 'And therefore if I go as a family man, complete with a string of children recovering from
illness, and a wife who needs a holiday, it will seem quite obvious that I can't be what I really am
— someone sent out on a secret mission.'
The children gazed at him in delight. A holiday somewhere abroad — with Bill and his wife!
Could anything be better? 'Wizard!' thought Lucy-Ann. 'I hope it's not a dream!'
'Where did you say it was? Oh, you didn't say! Do we go to a hotel? What will there be to do?
It's not dangerous, is it, Bill — dangerous for you?'
Questions poured out, and Bill shook his head and put his hands over his ears.
'It's no good asking me anything at the moment. I've only heard the outline of the affair myself
— but I did say that as a kind of camouflage I could take you all with me, and pose as a family man
— and it seemed to click, so I left the High-Ups to arrange everything. Honestly, that's all I know
at the moment. And don't you dare to talk about this except in whispers.'
'We won't, Bill,' Lucy-Ann assured him earnestly. 'It shall be a dead secret.'
'Secret!' yelled Kiki, catching the general excitement and dancing up and down on the table.
'Secret! High-up secret! High, high, up in the sky, wipe your feet, blow the secret!'
'Well, if anyone's going to give it away, it's Kiki!' said Bill, laughing. 'Kiki, can't you ever
hold your tongue?'
Kiki couldn't, but the others could, as Bill very well knew! They hurried out of the room and up
the stairs and into a little boxroom. They shut the door, and looked at each other in excitement.
'Whew!' said Philip, letting out an enormous breath. 'What a THRILL! Thank goodness for the
flu! Now — let's talk about it — in whispers, please!'

Chapter 3
AWAY THEY GO!

THAT week-end was full of excitement. The telephone went continually, and finally a small,
discreet car drew up in the drive on Monday night, and three men got out; they went, as instructed,
to the garden door, where Bill let them in. He called to the boys.
'Philip! Jack! Go and sit in that little car out there and keep watch. I don't think anyone is likely
to be about, but you never know. These are important visitors, and although we don't think anyone
knows of their visit here, you may as well keep watch.'
The boys were thrilled. They crept out to the car, and sat there, hardly breathing! They kept a
very sharp look-out indeed, scrutinising every moving shadow, and stiffening every time a car
came up the quiet road. The girls watched them enviously from an upstairs window, wishing they
were hidden in the car too.
But nothing exciting happened at all. It was very disappointing. In fact, the boys got very tired of
keeping watch, when two or three hours had gone by. They were very thankful indeed when they
heard the garden door opening quietly and footsteps coming to the car.
'Nothing to report, Bill,' whispered Jack, and was just about to slip away with Philip when. Kiki
decided that the time had come to open her beak again. She had not been allowed to make a single
sound in the car, and had sulked. Now she really let herself go!
'Police! Fetch the police! PHEEEEEEEEE!' She whistled exactly like a real police-whistle
being blown, and everyone was electrified at once. Bill hadn't heard Kiki's newest achievement,
and he clutched at one of the three men in alarm. All of them stood stock still and looked round in
amazement.
Jack's voice came penitently out of the darkness. 'Sorry, Bill. It's only Kiki's latest. I'm awfully
sorry!'
He fled indoors with Philip. Kiki, sensing his annoyance, flew off his shoulder and disappeared.
She let herself down into the big waste-paper basket in the sitting-room, and sat there very quietly
indeed. Outside there was the sound of an engine being revved up, and the car moved quietly out of
the gateway and disappeared into the night. Bill came back indoors.
'Well!' he said, coming into the sitting-room and blinking at the bright light. 'What came over
Kiki to yell for the police like that? It nearly startled us out of our wits! My word, that whistle — it
went clean through my head. Where is she? I've a few straight words to say to her!'
'She's hiding somewhere,' said Jack. 'She knows she shouldn't have done that. She heard it on
the radio the other night, and she keeps on calling for the police and doing that awful whistling.
Bill, any news?'
'Yes,' said Bill, filling his pipe. 'Quite a lot. Rather nice news, too — we're going to have some
fun, children!'
'Really, Bill?' said his wife. 'How?'
'Well — the place we are going to — which I am not going to mention at present, in case Kiki is
anywhere about, and shouts it all over the place — is quite a long way off, but as we are going by
plane that won't matter. And, my dears, the Powers-That-Be have decided that they will put a small
river-launch at our disposal, so that we can go on a nice little trip and see the country — enabling
me to make quite a lot of enquiries on our journey!'
'It sounds great!' said Philip, his eyes shining. 'Absolutely tops! A river-launch of our own! My
word, what a super holiday!'
'It does sound good,' said his mother. 'When do we go, Bill? I'll have to look out summer
clothes again, you know.'
'We have to catch the plane on Wednesday night,' said Bill. 'Can you manage to be ready by
then? Everything will be arranged for us at the other end — you won't have to bother about a
thing.'
Everyone was in a great state of excitement at once, and began to talk nineteen to the dozen, the
words almost falling over themselves. In the midst of a little pause for breath, a loud hiccup was
heard.
'That's Kiki!' said Jack, at once. 'She always does that when she's ashamed or embarrassed —
and I bet she was horrified at her outburst in the dark garden. Where is she?'
A search began, but Kiki was not behind the thick curtains, nor under the chairs or tables.
Another hiccup made everyone look about them, puzzled. 'Where is she? We've looked absolutely
everywhere. Kiki — come out, you fathead. You haven't got hiccups — you're putting them on.'
A sad and forlorn voice spoke from the depths of the waste-paper basket. 'Poor Polly! Polly-
Wolly-Olly all the day, poor Polly!' There followed a tremendous sigh.
'She's in the waste-paper basket!' cried Lucy-Ann, and ruffled all the papers there. Yes — Kiki
was at the very bottom! She climbed out, her head hanging down, and walked awkwardly over the
floor to Jack, climbed all the way up his foot and leg, up his body, to his shoulder.
'I suppose you've forgotten how to fly!' said Jack, amused. 'All right, you idiot — put up your
crest and stop behaving like this. And DON'T shout for the police and blow that whistle any more!'
'You're going on a trip, Kiki,' said Dinah. But the parrot was still pretending to be very upset,
and hid her head in Jack's collar. Nobody took any more notice of her, so she soon recovered, and
began to enter into the conversation as usual.
After a while Mrs. Cunningham gave a horrified exclamation. 'Do you know what the time is?
Almost midnight — and these children only just recovered from being ill! What am I thinking of?
They'll all be in bed again if we're not careful! Go to bed at once, children.'
They went upstairs, laughing. They had quite thrown off the miserable feeling they had had with
the flu — and now that this exciting trip lay in front of them, they all felt on top of the world.
'I wonder where we're going to,' said Jack to Philip. 'Bill didn't tell us even when he thought
Kiki wasn't there.'
'Bill's always cagey about everything till we're really off,' said Philip. 'It's no use badgering
him — and anyway, what does it matter? It's wonderful to go off into the blue like this — literally
into the blue, because we're going to fly — instead of straight back to school.'
'Lucy-Ann wouldn't like to hear me say so — but it's quite an adventure!' said Jack. 'Come on,
get into bed. You must have brushed each of your teeth a hundred times.'
The next two days were very busy indeed. Summer clothes were taken from drawers and chests,
canvas aeroplane-cases were thrown down from the loft by the boys, everyone hunted as usual for
lost keys, and there was such a hubbub that Mrs. Cunningham nearly went mad.
'Hubbub!' said Kiki, pleased with the new word, when she heard Bill complaining about it.
'Hubbub, hip-hip-hubbub! Fetch the doctor, hubbub!'
'Oh, Kiki — I can't help laughing at you, even though I'm so busy,' said Mrs. Cunningham.
'You and your hubbubs! You're a hubbub on your own.'
By Wednesday night all the bags were more or less neatly packed, the keys put safely in Bill's
wallet, and arrangements made for someone to come in and air the house, and dust it each day. Bill
went to get the car from the garage, and at last it was time to start.
Bill drove to the airport. It was exciting to arrive there at night, for the place was full of lights of
all kinds. A loud amplifier was giving directions.
'Plane now arriving from Rome. Rome plane coming in.'
'The plane for Geneva will leave ten minutes late.'
'Plane arriving from Paris. Two minutes early.'
The little company, with Kiki on Jack's shoulder, sat in the waiting-room, for they were early.
They began to feel sleepy in the warm room and Lucy-Ann felt her head nodding. Bill suddenly
stood up.
'Here's our plane. Come on. We'll have to keep together, now. Don't let Kiki fly off your
shoulder or scream or anything, Jack. Put her under your coat.'
Kiki grumbled away under Jack's coat, but as she felt a little overcome by the constant roar of
arriving and departing planes, she said nothing out loud. Soon all six of them, and Kiki too, were
safely in their plane-seats.
They were exceedingly comfortable, and the air hostess plied them with food and drink at once,
which pleased the children immensely.
There was nothing to be seen outside the plane as it flew steadily through the night. The weather
was good, the skies were clear and calm. All the children slept soundly in their tipped-back seats.
Kiki, rather astonished at everything, settled under Jack's coat and went to sleep too.
The plane flew on and on. Stars faded in the sky. Dawn crept in from the east, and the sky
became silver and then golden. The sun showed over the far horizon and the children awoke one by
one, wondering at first where they were.
'Another two or three hours and we're there,' said Bill. 'Anyone want anything to eat? Here's
our kind air hostess again.'
'I wish I lived on an aeroplane,' said Jack, when the air hostess brought them a tray full of most
delicious food. 'Why is food always so super on a plane? Look at these enormous peaches — and I
don't think I've ever tasted such delicious sandwiches!'
'This is fun!' said Lucy-Ann, taking her fourth sandwich. 'Jack, stop Kiki — that's her second
peach, and she's spilling juice all over me!'
Yes, it was fun! What a bit of luck that Bill had to go on this trip!

Chapter 4
WHAT PART OF THE WORLD IS THIS?

THE children spent a good bit of time after that looking out of the windows and seeing the earth
below. They were flying high, and very often wide stretches of white cloud, looking like fields of
dazzling snow, lay below them. Then came gaps in the clouds and far down they could see hills and
rivers and tiny towns or villages.
There was a great bustle when the plane at last landed on a long runway. Many men ran up,
steps were wheeled here and there, luggage was unloaded, passengers streamed out of the plane and
were soon greeted by friends.
A big car was waiting for Bill and his family. 'They were soon seated comfortably in it, and a
very brown-skinned man drove them away.
'Everything laid on, you see,' said Bill. 'We are going to a fairly small place called Barira,
where there is a very comfortable hotel. I don't want to stay in a large place, where someone might
possibly recognize me. In fact, from now on I'm going to wear dark glasses.'
The 'small place' was a long way away, and it took the car three hours to get there. The road
was very bumpy in parts, and ran through country that was sometimes very well wooded and
sometimes bare and desert-like. But at last they arrived, and the big car stopped outside a rambling
hotel, white-washed from top to bottom.
The hotel manager himself came to receive them, a fat little man with a very big nose. He bowed
himself almost to the ground, and then barked out very sharp orders in a language the children did
not understand. Porters came up and unpacked the luggage from the car, perspiring in the hot sun.
'You wish to wash, Madame?' said the hotel manager. 'Everything is most ready, and we speak
a hearty welcome to you.'
He bowed them into the hotel and took them to their rooms. These were spacious and airy, and
very simply furnished. The children were delighted to find a shower bath in their rooms. Jack
promptly stripped and stood underneath the tepid shower.
'Any idea where we've come to, Philip?' he called. 'I know Bill said it was somewhere called
Barira, but I've never heard of it in my life.'
Bill came into their room just then. 'Well, everything all right?' he said. 'Where are the girls?
Oh, is that their room next to yours? Good! Ours is just across the landing if you want us. We're to
have a meal in about a quarter of an hour's time. Come and bang on our door when you're ready.'
'Hey, Bill — what part of the world are we in?' called Jack. 'The men we've seen look like
Arabs or something.'
Bill laughed. 'Don't you know where we are?' Well, we're some way from the borders of Syria
— a very old part of the world indeed! Tell the girls to join you as soon as they can, will you?'
The small hotel proved to be extremely comfortable. Even Kiki was made welcome, after the
manager had got over the shock of seeing the parrot perched on Jack's shoulder.
'Ha — what you call him — parrot!' said the little fat man. 'Pretty Poll, eh?'
'Wipe your feet,' said Kiki, much to the man's surprise. 'Shut the door!'
The little man was not sure whether to obey or not. 'Funny bird!' he said. 'He is so much clever!
He spiks good. Polly, polly!'
'Polly put the kettle on,' said Kiki, and gave a screech that made the man hurry out of the room
at once.
There were no other guests at the hotel. The children sat in the shade on a verandah overhung
with clusters of brilliant red flowers. Enormous butterflies fluttered among them. Kiki watched
these with much interest. She knew butterflies at home, but these didn't seem at all the same. She
talked to herself, and the waiters going to and fro regarded her with awe. When one of them
coughed, and Kiki imitated him exactly, he looked very scared and ran off quickly.
'Don't show off, Kiki,' said Jack, sleepily. 'And for goodness' sake keep still. You've been
dancing about on my shoulder for the last ten minutes.'
Next day plans were made for the river-trip, which was to last at least a week. Bill produced a
map which showed the winding course of a river, and pointed to various places.
'We start here — that's where our launch will be. We go here first — see? And then down to
this town — I don't know how you pronounce it — Ala-ou-iya — something like that. I leave you
there and have a snoop round for my man — though, as I said, I might take you boys with me.'
'What's his name?' asked Jack.
'He calls himself Raya Uma,' said Bill. 'No one knows whether that is his real name or not, or
exactly what nationality he is — but we do know he's a trouble-maker who wants watching. What
he's out here for we simply can't imagine. It may be something that is perfectly innocent, but,
knowing his record, I don't think so. Anyway, all I have to do is to spot him, find out what he's
doing, and report back. Nothing more — so there's no danger attached, or I wouldn't have brought
you with me.'
'We wouldn't have minded if there had been!' said Philip. 'A spot of danger makes an
adventure, you know, Bill!'
Bill laughed. 'You and your adventures! Now listen — this fellow Uma doesn't know me
personally, and has never met me — but he may have been warned that his doings are being
enquired about, so he may be on the look-out for a snooper. If anyone questions any of you, answer
candidly at once. Say you've been ill, and this is a trip to give you sunshine, and so on — which is
perfectly true as far as you're concerned.'
'Right,' said Jack. 'What's this man Uma like?'
'Here are some photographs of him,' said Bill, and he spread out five or six prints. The children
looked at them, astonished.
'But — they're all of different men,' said Dinah.
'Looks like it — but they're all our friend Uma,' said Bill, 'He's a master of disguises, as you
see. The only thing he cannot very well disguise is a long white scar on his right forearm, which
looks very like a thin curving snake. But it's easy enough to cover that up, of course, with the
sleeve of his shirt or coat, or whatever garment he happens to be wearing.'
He gathered up the prints and put them back into his wallet. 'You're not likely to recognize him
at all,' he said. 'So don't go suspecting everyone you meet — you'll spoil your holiday! I know
where to find people who know him, and I may get word of him. On the other hand, he may not be
anywhere about now — he may have flown to America or Australia. He gads about all over the
place — a most extraordinary fellow.'
Something long and sinuous suddenly glided by Bill, disappearing into the bushes nearby. He
jumped, and then put out a restraining hand as Philip darted by him. 'No, Philip — that might be a
poisonous snake — don't try any tricks with animals here.'
Dinah gave a small shriek. 'Was that a snake? Oh, how horrible! Bill, you didn't tell us there
were snakes here. I hate snakes. Philip, don't you dare to catch one, else I'll scream the place
down.'
'Fathead,' said Philip, sitting down again. 'All right, Bill. I won't keep a poisonous snake, I
promise you. That was rather a pretty one. What was it?'
'I don't know,' said Bill. 'I'm not over keen on snakes myself. And be careful of some of the
insects here too, Philip. They can give you nasty nips. Don't carry too many about in your pockets!'
Dinah was not so happy now that she knew there were snakes about. She kept her eyes on the
ground wherever she walked, and jumped at the least waving of a leaf. The little fat hotel manager
saw her and came to comfort her.
'Many snakes here, yes — beeg, beeg ones that do not bite — and little, little ones, which are
much poison. The little bargua snake is the worst. Do not touch him.'
'Oh dear — what's it like?' asked poor Dinah.
'He is green with spottings,' said the manager.
'Oh! What sort of spottings?' asked Dinah.
'Red and yellow,' said the little man. 'And he is fast with his head when he strikes — so!' He
struck out with his hand as if it were a snake darting at Dinah, and she gave a small scream and
drew back.
'Ah — I fright you!' said the little fat man, filled with dismay. 'No, no, do not be fright. See, I
have somethings for you!'
He scuttled off to fetch the 'somethings' and brought back a dish of extremely rich-looking
sweetmeats.
'I give you my apologizings,' he said. 'And my beggings for pardon.'
Dinah couldn't help laughing. 'It's all right,' she said. 'I wasn't really frightened — you just
made me jump. But thanks awfully for these sweets.'
The little man disappeared and the children tried the sweets. They were very rich, very sticky,
and very sweet. After one each they all felt slightly sick. Kiki, however, helped herself generously,
and then began to hiccup loudly, much to the delight of a passing waiter.
'Shut up, Kiki,' said Jack. 'That's enough. Be quiet now.'
But this time Kiki really did have hiccups, and was rather astonished to find that she couldn't
stop. 'Pardon,' she kept saying, in a surprised tone that sent the children into gales of laughter.
'That'll teach you not to be so greedy!' said Jack. 'I say — we're starting on the river-trip
tomorrow! Bags I drive the launch sometimes!'
'Bags I, bags I!' repeated Kiki at once, dancing up and down. 'Three bags full! Bags I! Oh —
pardon!'
Tomorrow! Away on an unknown river to mysterious places in a strange land — what could be
more exciting?

Chapter 5
AWAY DOWN THE RIVER

NEXT day they all drove down to the river. The white road wound here and there, and the natives
they met ran to the side of the road to keep out of the way of the big car.
'They look like people out of the Bible,' said Lucy-Ann.
'Well, many of the people in the Bible came from these parts!' said Bill. 'And in some ways the
people and their villages too have not changed a great deal, except for modern amenities that have
crept in — the radio, for instance, and wrist-watches, and modern sanitation sometimes. And
cinemas, of course — you find them everywhere.'
'Bill — in the picture-Bible I had years ago Abraham looked exactly like that man!' said Lucy-
Ann, nodding towards a dignified, white-robed man walking by the road-side. 'And look at that
woman with a pot on her head — pitcher, I mean. She's like the picture I had of Rebecca going to
the well.'
'Hey, look — camels!' shouted Philip, suddenly excited. 'Oh, there's a baby one. I've never in
my life seen a baby one before. Oh, I wish I had it for a pet.'
'Well, at least you couldn't keep it in your pocket, like a snake or a mouse,' said Dinah. 'Don't
those camels look cross!'
'Yes,' said Bill. 'Camels always look annoyed. That one over there is looking down his nose at
us as if he really couldn't bear the sight of our car.'
'He probably can't!' said Dinah. 'It must smell horrible to him. Yes, he does look down his
nose, doesn't he? Cheer up, camel!'
They saw patient donkeys too, loaded down with such heavy pannier-baskets that it was a
marvel they could walk at all. Philip was interested in the birds too, almost as much as Jack was.
'I wish I'd brought my big world-bird book,' mourned Jack. 'I'd be able to look up all these
brilliant birds then. I did put it 'Out to bring, but I left it on my dressing-table.'
'You wouldn't have been allowed in the aeroplane with that monster book,' said Bill. 'I see you
brought your field-glasses, however. You'll find plenty to look at with those.'
'Is that the river?' said Dinah, suddenly, as she caught sight of a flash of blue through the trees.
'Yes, it is! I say — it's very wide here, isn't it!'
So it was. The farther shore seemed quite a distance away. Their launch was waiting for them, a
trim little vessel with a native on board looking very clean and neat. He saluted them when they
came over from the car.
The launch was beside a little jetty, and Bill looked at it with approval. He nodded to the man.
'I Tala,' said the man, and bowed. 'Tala look after ship, and look after you, Master.'
Tala showed them over the launch. It was small but quite big enough for them all. The cabin was
stuffy and hot, but nobody planned to be there very much! The bunks down below looked stuffy
and hot too, but, as Bill said, they could sleep on deck, providing they rigged up a mosquito net
over them. A little breeze blew every now and again, which was very pleasant.
'Master start now, this minute, at once?' enquired Tala, his black eyes taking them all in. He had
remarkably white teeth and a twinkle in his eyes that the children liked immediately. Bill nodded.
'Yes. Off we go. You can show me any gadgets there are, and I'll take the wheel if I want to.
Cast off.'
The launch went off smoothly, her engine making very little noise. At once it seemed cooler, for
the breeze was now in their faces. The children sat on the deck and watched the banks slide by on
either side.
Mrs. Cunningham went down into the lower part of the launch to see what kind of food was
stored away there. She called to Bill.
'Just look here!' she said. 'They've done you proud again, Bill — there's enough for an army
here — and such nice food too! And there's a fridge packed with butter and milk. You must be
quite an important person, Bill, to have all this done for you!'
Bill laughed. 'You come along up on deck and get some colour into your cheeks!' he said.
'Hallo, what are the children excited about?'
The launch was passing a small village and the native children had come out to watch it go by.
They shouted and waved, and Jack and the others waved back.
'What's this river called, Tala?' asked Philip.
'It is called River of Abencha,' answered Tala, his eyes on the water ahead.
'I say, you others!' called Philip. 'He says this river's called the River of Adventure — sounds
exciting, doesn't it?'
'Abencha, Abencha,' repeated Tala, but Philip thought he was trying to say 'Adventure' and not
pronouncing it correctly. Tala found many English words difficult to say!
'All right, Tala — we heard you,' said Philip. 'It's a lovely name for a river, I think — the River
of Adventure. Well, this is certainly an adventure for us!'
It was a quiet, peaceful trip that day, gliding along hour after hour. Bill took the wheel when
Tala went down below to prepare a meal. The children wondered what kind of a meal it would be.
They were all extremely hungry.
Tala came up with a marvellous repast. As Dinah said, it was much too grand to be called just a
'meal' — it was nothing less than a 'repast', or perhaps even a 'feast'!
Tala had apparently opened a good many tins, and concocted some dishes of his own, garnished
with pickles and sauces of many kinds. There were fresh rolls to go with the meal, and to follow
there was fresh or tinned fruit. Lucy-Ann pounced on a big peach and put it to her lips.
'No, don't eat the skin of that peach, Lucy-Ann,' said Bill. 'All fruit eaten out here must be
peeled before being eaten. Don't forget that, please.'
Mrs. Cunningham really enjoyed that peaceful day, hearing the lap-lap of the water against the
bows of the boat, seeing the villages slip by on the banks, and sometimes meeting other boats on
the blue-green water.
The sun and wind tired them all out, and each of them fell asleep at once when they had bedded
down on deck. Tala tied up the boat safely, and went to his own shake-down in the stern.
Jack just had time to think that the stars seemed amazingly large and bright before he fell fast
asleep. Nobody heard a sound that night, not even the cry of a night-bird, whose voice seemed half
a hoot and half a shriek. Kiki opened one eye and considered whether to answer back in her own
language of squawk-and-scream — but decided that Bill might not like it!
The river was beautiful in the early morning. It was a pale milky blue, and Jack was thrilled to
watch a whole covey of tiny water-birds swimming round the yacht. 'What are they?' he asked
Tala, pointing to the little blue and yellow things. Tala shrugged his shoulders.
'Tala not know,' he said. Jack soon found that Tala knew absolutely nothing about birds, insects
or flowers. He could not put a name to a single one. His whole interest was in the launch's engine
and in the care of it.
'We come to big, big place soon,' said Tala, early that evening. He looked rather excited. 'Place
name Sinny-Town.'
'Sinny-Town?' said Bill, puzzled. 'I don't think so, Tala. There is no big town along this river-
side — only small ones. I've never heard of Sinny-Town. It isn't on my map.'
Tala nodded his head vigorously up and down. 'Yes, Sinny-Town. Tala know. Tala been. Half
an hour and we see Sinny-Town.'
Bill took out his map, and looked down the river as it was shown there. He shook his head again,
and showed the map to Tala.
'You're wrong,' he said. 'There is no Sinny-Town marked here. See.'
Tala put his finger on a place where the river shown on the map curved a little.
'Sinny-Town there,' he said. 'You will see, Master. Tala right. Tala been there. Big big town.
Many peoples. Big big towers, tall as the sky.'
This was most astonishing. Bill couldn't understand it. Why wasn't this 'big big place' shown
on the map? Even small places were shown there. In fact, the little place he had planned to go to
was marked as being very near the curve of the river where Tala said Sinny-Town was.
He shrugged his shoulders. Tala couldn't know what he was talking about. Towers as tall as the
sky — what nonsense!
The darkness came suddenly, as it always does in southern countries. Stars shone out, large and
mysterious, and very very bright. The river turned black and silver, and held as many stars as were
in the sky.
'Bend of river, Master — then Sinny-Town,' said Tala, in an excited voice. 'You will see!'
The launch glided smoothly round the bend — and then Bill and the others saw a most
astonishing sight!
A great city lay there, on the west bank of the river. A city of lights and noise. A city with
towers that went up to the sky, just as Tala had said!
Bill stared in the utmost astonishment. He simply could not understand it! Here was a big place
not even marked on the map — and the map was a modern one, not a year old! A city could not be
built in a year. Bill was more puzzled than he had ever been in his life. He stood and stared as if he
could not believe his eyes.
'Tala go Sinny-Town tonight?' said Tala, beseechingly. 'Tala like Sinny-Town. Tala go,
Master? Boat be all right with you, Master.'
'Yes, yes — you go,' said Bill, finding his voice. 'Bless my soul, this is a most extraordinary
thing. A large, lively town, with great buildings — and it's not marked on the map, and no one in
London told me a word about it. What can it mean?'
'Let's visit it, Bill,' said Jack.
'Not tonight,' said Bill. 'We'll see what it looks like in the daylight. But what a brilliantly
lighted place — and what enormous buildings! I simply don't understand it. It's very — very —
queer!'

Chapter 6
SINNY-TOWN

EVERYONE slept very well that night. They had stayed up fairly late looking at the lights of the
surprising Sinny-Town. Tala had gone off in glee, leaping from the launch to the shore with one
lithe spring. He had not come back by the time the others had bedded down on the cool deck, and
Bill was rather uneasy, wondering if he would return.
But in the morning the sound of someone tinkering with the engine of the launch awoke Jack —
and there was Tala, looking rather the worse for wear after his late night, at work on the plugs. He
grinned at Jack when the boy stood up and stretched.
'Tala go Sinny-Town,' he said, and nodded towards the bank. Jack remembered their surprise of
the night before and ran to the other side of the launch to gaze at the mysterious Sinny-Town.
It was so extraordinary that he called to Bill. 'Bill! I say, Bill — do come and look.'
Bill awoke and joined Jack. The two of them looked at the sprawling town. Bill was astonished.
'There's something queer about it,' he said. 'Look at those towers — somehow they don't look
real — and what's that over there — a palace or something? There's something queer about that
too. Isn't one side missing? Where are your field-glasses, Jack? Lend them to me.'
Jack handed them to him and Bill gazed through them. 'No — I don't understand this,' he said,
lowering them. 'The town is a most peculiar mixture of buildings — there are shacks and sheds,
ancient houses, towers, that palace, and something that looks remarkably like an old temple — and
here and there are crowds of people milling round, and droves of camels, and . . . no, I don't
understand it.'
'Do let's go and look at it after breakfast,' said Jack.
'Yes, we certainly will,' said Bill. 'Sinny-Town is no village — it's quite a big place — but
WHY isn't it marked on my map? I had a look at another map last night, but it's not shown there
either. Wake the others, Jack.'
Soon they were all having breakfast. Mrs. Cunningham was as surprised as the rest of them to
see such a strange mixture of a town on the bank of the river.
'That palace looks quite new,' said Lucy-Ann, staring at it. 'And yet it must be thousands of
years old and ought to be in ruins.'
After breakfast they all went ashore, leaving Tala in charge of the launch. Kiki was on Jack's
shoulder as usual, and very talkative, much to the amusement of the natives they met.
'Shut the door,' she ordered imperiously.' Fetch the doctor, Polly's got a cold. A-HOO-choo!'
Her sneeze was so realistic that Lucy-Ann almost offered her a hanky. Soon Jack had to make
the parrot stop talking, for, on looking behind him, he found a group of small, dark-skinned
children following, pointing at Kiki in delight.
They came near to the town — and then Bill gave an exclamation. 'It's not a real town! It's a
fake! All these towers and temples are imitation! Look at this one — it is only a front — there's no
back to it.'
They stared in wonder. Bill was right. It was just a flimsy false front, which, from a distance,
looked exactly like a real temple — but behind it was nothing but boards and canvas, with joists of
timber holding the whole thing up.
They went on, coming to well-built sheds, stored with masses of peculiar things, jerry-built
shacks that served all sorts of purposes — one sold cigarettes, one sold soft drinks, and others sold
groceries and so on.
The people were a curiously mixed lot. Men and women walked or ran here and there, mostly
dressed in sloppy-looking European clothes — and others, dressed in native costume, went on their
way too. Small children with hardly anything on darted everywhere.
And then, round a corner, they came upon a curious sight. It was a procession of magnificently
dressed men, walking slowly, and chanting as they went. In the midst of the procession was a
space, and here, surrounded by women dressed in the robes of long, long ago, was a kind of bed on
which lay a very beautiful woman, carried by four slaves, tall, strong and dark-skinned.
Bill and the others stood and stared — and then Bill heard a curious whirring noise. He looked
to see what was making it — and gave an exclamation.
The others looked at him. Bill grinned at them. 'I've got it!' he said. 'I see it all now, and I can't
think why it didn't dawn on me before. The reason why Sinny-Town isn't shown on the map is
because it probably wasn't here when the map was drawn a year ago! See those enormous cameras?
They're ciné-cameras — they're taking pictures for a film, and . . .'
Then everyone exclaimed, too, and began to talk excitedly.
'Of course! It's a town specially built for the making of a film of long-ago days!'
'Why didn't we think of it before! That's why that temple is only a front and nothing else!'
'And why there is such a mixture of people here!'
'And, of course, it's Ciné-Town, not Sinny-Town as we all imagined!' said Jack. 'A town of
cinema cameras taking pictures — Ciné-Town.'
'It's jolly interesting!' said Philip. 'Bill, can we wander round on our own? Look, there's a
fellow doing acrobatics over there — look at him bending over backwards and catching hold of the
back of his ankles with his hands!'
Bill laughed. 'All right. You can go and have a good look round. I expect this place attracts a lot
of show-people, who think they can make a bit of money by their tricks. You may see something
interesting. But keep together, please. Boys, see that the girls don't get separated from you. I'll go
off alone with your mother, Philip — I might pick up some useful information.'
The children knew what that meant! Bill hoped to find out something about Mr. Raya Uma.
Well, it was quite likely that he had come to Ciné-Town!
They set off by themselves, followed by a little tail of interested native children. Beggars called
to them as they passed by, holding out all kinds of wares — trays of sticky sweetmeats, covered
with flies, that made the two girls shudder in disgust. Fresh fruit in baskets. Little gimcrack objects
such as might be found in fairs at home. Pictures of the stars who were, presumably, acting in the
film being made in the town. There were all kinds of goods, none of which the children wished to
buy.
Even the natives seemed to speak English — or, rather, English with a pronounced American
accent, for the company making the film was one of the biggest ones from America. It was easy to
pick out the Americans and Europeans, not only by their dress but by their quicker walk and louder
voices.
The four children wandered round the false temples and towers, wondering what the film was
that was being made — it was obviously a story taken from the Old Testament. Then they made
their way to a large group of huts where a little crowd sat watching a man who was performing a
most peculiar trick. He was walking up a ladder of knives!
A weird chant went up from two of his attendants as he climbed up the edges of the blades,
setting his bare feet on them without flinching. Someone began to play a kind of tom-tom, and the
children stood there, fascinated.
The man leapt down, grinning. He turned up the soles of his feet to show that they were not in
the least cut. He invited the audience to come and test the sharpness of the knife-edges with their
hands, and some of them did.
He beckoned to the four children and they went to the strange ladder of knives and felt the edges
too — yes, they were certainly sharp! They gazed at the man in respect, and put a little money into
his bag. It was English money, but he didn't seem to mind at all. He could probably change it into
his own coinage at any of the ramshackle shops around.
'What a way to earn your living — climbing up sharp knives with bare feet!' said Lucy-Ann.
'Oh, look — there's a juggler!'
The juggler was extremely clever. He had six glittering balls and sent them up and down, to and
fro, as fast as he could, so that it was almost impossible for the eye to see them. He caught them so
deftly that the children stood lost in admiration. Then he took six plates and juggled with those,
throwing them over his shoulder and between his legs, one after the other, without dropping or
breaking a single one.
Just as the children were clapping him, Jack felt a hand sliding into his shorts pocket and turned
quickly. He grabbed at a small, dirty boy, but the child wriggled away quickly.
'Hey, you! Don't you dare to do that again!' yelled Jack, indignantly, feeling in his pocket. As
far as he could tell, nothing had been taken — he had been too quick for the little thief. Still, it was
a lesson to him and to all the others too.
'We obviously mustn't get so engrossed in watching things that we forget to guard our pockets,'
said Jack. 'Why didn't you see that little monkey of a fellow, Kiki? You could have yelled out
"Stop thief!" '
'Stopthief, stopthief, stopthief!' shouted Kiki immediately, thinking that it was all one word.
This astonished all the passers-by so much that they stood and stared. One small girl darted away at
once.
'She thinks Kiki is addressing her,' said Philip, with a grin. 'I expect she had just planned to
pinch your little bag, Lucy-Ann.'
Just then a queer, thin music floated over to them, and they stopped. 'I say — that sounds like
snake-music!' said Philip, suddenly excited. 'Come on, quick — I've always wanted to see a snake-
charmer at work. Quick!'

Chapter 7
A SURPRISING MORNING

JACK, Philip and Lucy-Ann hurried towards the sound, but Dinah hung back.
'Ugh! Snakes! I don't want to see them,' she said. 'I hate snakes. I'm not coming.'
'Dinah, you've got to keep with us,' said Philip, impatiently. 'Bill said so. You don't need to
watch, you can turn your back. But you must keep with us.'
'All right, all right,' said Dinah, sulkily. 'But why you want to go and gloat over snakes I cannot
imagine. Horrible things!'
She dawdled behind, but kept within reach, and then, when they came to the little crowd
surrounding the snake-charmer, she turned her back. She felt rather sick, for she had caught sight of
a snake rising up from a basket, wavering to and fro. She swallowed once or twice, and felt better,
but she did not dare to turn round again. She stared out over the strangely mixed crowd.
The other three were in the little crowd round the snake-charmer. He was a rather dirty-looking
man, with a turban wound round his head, and a wide cloth round his middle. He had only one eye.
The other was closed — but his one eye looked round piercingly, and Lucy-Ann decided that she
didn't like it at all. It was as unblinking as a snake's!
Beside the man stood his attendant, a small boy, quite naked except for a cloth round his middle.
He was painfully thin, and Lucy-Ann could easily count all his bony little ribs. His eyes were sharp
and bright — not like a snake's, thought Lucy-Ann, but like a robin's. He was talking at top speed
about the snakes in the basket.
He spoke a curious mixture of his own language and American. The children could not follow
half of it, but they gathered enough to know that the snakes in the basket were dangerous ones, with
a bite so poisonous that it could kill even a grown man in twelve hours.
'He dart like this,' chanted the little fellow, and made a snake-like movement with his arm, 'he
bite quick, quick, quick. . . .'
The man sitting by the round basket began to play again the strange, tuneless music that the
children had heard a few minutes before. The snake that Dinah had seen had disappeared back into
its basket — but now it arose again and everyone gasped at its wicked-looking head.
Lucy-Ann whispered to Jack. 'Jack — it's the snake that the hotel manager told us about —
green with red and yellow spots — look! What was its name now?'
'Er — bargua, I think,' said Jack, watching the snake. 'My word, it's a little beauty, but wicked-
looking, isn't it? See it wavering about as if it's looking round at everyone. My goodness, here's
another!'
A second snake had now uncoiled itself and was rising up slowly, seeming to look round from
side to side. Some of the crowd came a little closer to the snake-charmer, and at once the small boy
cried out sharply, 'Back, back, back! You want to be bit? He bite quick, quick, quick!'
The crowd at once surged back, frightened. The snake-charmer went on with his weird music,
blowing interminably on his little flute, his one eye following all the movements of the crowd. A
third snake arose and swayed from side to side as if in time to the music.
The small boy tapped it on the head with a stick and it sank down again.
'He very bad snake, he not safe,' explained the boy, earnestly. The other two snakes still
wavered about, and then, quite suddenly, the man changed his music, and it became louder and
more insistent. One of the snakes swayed more quickly, and the little boy held a stick over its head
as if to stop it.
The snake struck at it, and then, before anyone could stop it, slithered right out of the basket
towards the crowd.
At once there were screams and howls, and everyone surged back. The small boy ran at the
snake and picked it up. He threw it back into the basket, and a cry of admiration went up at once.
Shouts and claps and cheers filled the air, and the snake-charmer stood up slowly, and patted the
small boy on the head.
'He save you all!' he said, and then added a few rapid words in his own language. 'He brave.
Snake might bite him. He brave,' he finished.
'What a kid!' said an American voice, warm with admiration. 'Here, boy — take a hold of this!'
and he threw a dollar bill on the ground. The little boy darted on it as quickly as a snake, and
nodded his thanks.
That was the signal for other people in the crowd to throw down money for the boy too, and he
picked it all up, stuffing it into a fold of his waist-cloth.
The snake-charmer took no notice. He was busy putting the lid on the snake-basket, preparing to
leave.
Jack put his hand into his pocket to throw down a sixpence, but to his surprise Philip stopped
him. 'No, don't,' said Philip. 'It's all a fake.'
Jack looked at him in enormous surprise. 'A fake? How? That kid's as brave as can be! You
heard the hotel manager tell us how poisonous those barguas are.'
'I tell you, it's a fake!' said Philip, in a low voice. 'I agree — they are barguas, and dangerous
— but not one of those snakes could hurt a fly.'
'What do you mean?' asked Lucy-Ann, astonished.
'Come away and I'll tell you,' said Philip. They joined Dinah and went a little way away. Jack
looked at Philip impatiently.
'Come on, then — tell us how it was a fake.'
'Did you notice that when those snakes were swaying about in the basket they kept their mouths
shut all the time?' said Philip. 'They didn't open them at all, or show their forked tongues, not even
when one of them was tapped on the head — which would usually anger a snake and make him get
ready to bite.'
'Yes — now I come to think of it, they did keep their mouths shut,' said Jack. 'But what does
that matter? The one that escaped might easily have opened his to strike if he had had a chance. I
wonder he didn't pounce at that small boy.'
'Do listen,' said Philip. 'I was a bit suspicious when I saw that those snakes didn't open their
mouths at all — so that when one snake escaped — though it's my firm opinion that that "escape"
was all arranged, part of the trick, you know — well, when that snake escaped and came writhing
near us I took a jolly good look at him. And believe it or not, the poor thing's mouth was sewn up!'
The others gazed at him in horror. 'Sewn up!' said Lucy-Ann. 'Oh, how cruel! That means, of
course, that the snake-charmer is perfectly safe — he can't be bitten because the snakes can't open
their mouths to strike.'
'Exactly,' said Philip. 'I never knew before how the snake-charmer's trick was done. The snake
that "escaped" had its mouth well and truly sewn up — I saw the stitches. The snake was probably
doped somehow, and then, while it was doped, the man sewed up its mouth.'
'But it can't eat or drink then,' said Lucy-Ann, feeling sick. 'It's cruel. Why doesn't someone do
something about it?'
'That boy wasn't brave after all then,' said Jack.
'No. That's what I told you,' said Philip. 'He had been trained to put on that little bit of
spectacular courage. You saw how it pulled in the money, didn't you? My word, talk about a hard-
hearted swindle! To sew up snakes' mouths and use them for a living — ugh, horrible!'
'I'm jolly glad I didn't throw down any money,' said Jack.
'And I'm jolly glad I didn't watch,' said Dinah.
'I'm sorry for those snakes,' said Lucy-Ann. 'I hate to think of them.'
'So do I,' said Philip. 'Such pretty things too — that lovely bright green, and those glittering red
and yellow spots. I'd like one for a pet.'
Dinah stared at him in horror. 'Philip! Don't you dare to keep a snake for a pet — especially a
poisonous one.'
'Don't fly off the handle, Di,' said Jack, amused. 'You know jolly well that Bill would never
allow him to keep a poisonous bargua. Cheer up!'
'Do you suppose it's safe to buy ice-creams here?' said Lucy-Ann, suddenly feeling that she
could eat at least three. 'My mouth feels so hot and dry.'
'We'll find a decent place,' said Jack. 'What about that one over there?'
They walked over to it and looked inside. It was clean and bright, and at the little tables sat
many Americans and two or three actors and actresses still in costume.
'This should be all right,' said Philip, and they went in. People stared at the children, and
especially at Jack, who, of course, had Kiki on his shoulder as usual.
A little bell was on each table, so that customers could ring if they wanted anything. Jack picked
up the one on his table and rang it.
'Ding dong bell,' remarked Kiki. 'Pussy's in the well. Fetch the doctor!' She went off into one
of her cackles of laughter, and then began again. 'Pussy's in the well, me-ow, me-ow, puss, puss,
puss! Ding dong bell!'
There was a sudden silence, and everyone stared in amazement at the parrot, who now
proceeded to cough like an old sheep. Jack tapped her on the beak.
'Now then, Kiki — don't show off!'
'Great snakes!' drawled an American voice nearby. 'That's a reemarkable parrot, young fellow!
Like to sell him?'
'Of course not!' said Jack, quite indignantly. 'Shut up, Kiki. You're not giving a concert!'
But Kiki was! Delighted at all the sudden attention, she gave a most remarkable performance —
and was just in the middle of it when something happened. A man came in and sat down at the
children's table!
'Hallo!' he said. 'Surely I know you! Don't you belong to old Bill? Is he here with you?'

Chapter 8
THE SNAKE-CHARMER AGAIN

THE four children stared at the man in surprise. He was dressed well, and his face looked brown
and healthy. He smiled at them, showing very fine teeth.
Nobody answered for a moment. Then Kiki cocked her head on one side, and spoke to the man.
'Bill! Silly-bill! Pay the bill, silly-billy, pay the billy!'
'What a wonderful parrot!' said the man, and put out his hand to ruffle Kiki's crest. She gave
him a quick nip with her beak, and he scowled at once, making his face completely different.
'Well?' he said, nursing his finger and smiling again at the children. 'Have you lost your
tongues? I asked you who you were with? Is it old Bill, my good old friend?'
Both girls got a quiet kick on the leg from Jack and Philip. Everyone had remembered what Bill
had said. They were not to give away any information if they were asked questions!
'We're here with my mother,' said Philip. 'We've all been ill, so this is a sort of convalescence
trip. We're just having a short river-trip on a launch.'
'I see,' said the man.' You don't know anyone called Bill then?'
'Oh yes,' said Dinah, to the horror of the two boys. 'We know Bill Hilton — is he the one you
mean?'
'No,' said the man.
'Then there's Bill Jordans,' said Dinah, and by the glint in her eye the boys knew that she was
making all this up. They joined in heartily.
'He may mean Bill Ponga — do you, sir?'
'Or Bill Tipps — he's the fellow who had four big cars and two small ones — is he the Bill you
mean?'
'Perhaps he means Bill Kent. You know, Jack, the chimney-sweep Mother always has.'
'Or do you mean Bill Plonk, sir? You might know him — he's a biscuit-manufacturer, and his
biscuits are . . .'
'No. I do not mean him — or any of the others!' said the man shortly. 'Isn't anyone called Bill
with you?'
'No. As you can see, we're all alone,' said Jack.
'Where's your launch?' asked the man. This was getting awkward and Jack cast about in his
mind for a way to bring the conversation to a natural end. He glanced suddenly at Lucy-Ann and
spoke urgently.
'I say, old girl! Do you feel sick? Better go out, if so.'
Lucy-Ann took the cue at once and stood up, looking as ill as she could.
'Yes. Take me out,' she said, in a suitably faint voice. The others led her down the room and out
into the open air.
'Scoot!' said Philip as soon as they were outside. 'I don't think he'll come after us — but he
might. Jolly good idea of yours, Jack, to pretend Lucy-Ann felt sick.'
They disappeared at top speed round the building and went into an empty shed. There was a
dirty window there and they peered through it, keeping a watch for the over-friendly man. Lucy-
Ann made a peculiar noise.
'I think I am going to be sick,' she said. 'Jack was right!' But she wasn't sick after all, and soon
began to feel better.
'Here comes our friend,' said Jack, gazing through the dirty window. 'He's standing still,
looking this way and that. Now he's got into a car — he's driving off at top speed. Goodo!'
'Do you think he was Raya Uma himself?' asked Dinah.
'Shouldn't think so,' said Jack. 'Though he did have very white teeth — did you notice? And
Bill said that Raya Uma had remarkably white teeth. I couldn't see if he had a scar en his arm,
because his coat-sleeves were long.'
'We told him about plenty of Bills,' said Dinah with a laugh.
'Bill! Pay the bill!' said Kiki, joining in as usual.
'We did, old thing!' said Jack. 'We paid for the ice-creams when they were brought to us. Didn't
you notice? You're as blind as a bat!'
'Batty,' said Kiki, jigging up and down. 'Batty, batty, batty!'
'Quite right. You are!' said Philip, and everyone laughed. They went to the door of the shed. 'Is
it safe to go now, do you think?' asked Dinah. Jack nodded.
'Oh yes. He won't try and get anything more out of us. He knows we were fooling with him —
but he doesn't know if it was because we were being cautious, or were just plain rude. We'll have
to tell Bill about it and see what he says. I think there's no doubt but that the man has got wind that
someone's coming out to snoop, and has been looking out for newcomers.'
They went out of the shed and wandered round. They came to a collection of tumbledown native
huts, which looked as if they might have been built for years, not merely for the film outfit.
'A bit smelly,' said Jack. 'Let's go back. I say, though — what's that?'
A sudden cry had come to his sharp ears. He stood still and then the others heard a cry too. They
also heard something even worse — the sound of a cane or stick being used as a weapon!
Every time that the sound of a blow came, there followed immediately a high-pitched scream of
pain and terror.
'That's a child yelling!' said Philip. 'He sounds as if he's being half killed. Come on — I can't
bear this. We've got to do something about it!'
They raced round the huts, and came to a bare space, where old boxes and crates lay about. At
the back stood a man, thrashing a child with a thick stick. One or two other people were there, but
nobody made the slightest attempt to stop the whipping.
'Gosh — it's that snake-charmer!' cried Jack. 'And that's the little boy who picked up the
money — look, the fellow has got him on the ground!'
All four of them raced over to the angry man. Philip caught hold of his arm, and Jack wrenched
the stick from his hand. The man swung round in fury.
He shouted something they didn't understand, and tried to catch at the stick. But Philip put it out
of reach. 'No you don't! You're a cruel beast, lashing out at that little kid like that! What's he
done?'
The man shouted again, and his one eye glittered dangerously. The small boy raised his head,
and sobbed out a few words.
'He say I keep money. He say I rob. But see, I have none!'
He opened his folded waist-cloth and shook it. He pointed at the snake-charmer. 'I give him all,
all! He say I spend some. He beat me. Ai, ai!'
The small boy put his thin arms across his face and wept again. The man made a move towards
him as if to strike him with his bare fist, but Philip jumped forward with the stick.
'Don't you touch him again! You 'let him be! I shall report you for this!'
Philip had no idea to whom he should report the man, but he was determined not to let him hit
the child again. The snake-charmer glared at him in fury out of his one eye. Then he made a sudden
move towards his snake-basket, which lay on the ground nearby. He lucked off the lid and at once
the snakes rose up, scared and angered.
'Run! Run!' he shouted, in English. 'I tell my snakes bite, bite, bite!'
Dinah turned and ran at once, but the others kept their ground. If Philip was right, and the
snakes' mouths were sewn up, they were harmless, and there was no need to run. Two of the snakes
came gliding rapidly over the ground towards them. Then Philip did something surprising. He
threw the stick to Jack, and then knelt down on the ground. He made a curious hissing noise, the
same noise that he used in his own country when he wanted to tame grass snakes.
The snakes stopped immediately. They raised their heads and listened. Then they glided right up
to Philip and ran their mouths over his hands. One snake writhed up his arm and hung itself round
his neck.
The snake-charmer stared in the utmost amazement. Why — the snakes had never done that to
him! They had avoided him whenever they could, for they hated him. Never, never had he seen
wild snakes go to anyone as they went to this quietly hissing boy! He wasn't even afraid!
'Snakes bite — bite, bite, bite!' he said, and stamped on the ground to frighten them and make
them strike with their shut mouths.
'They can't,' said Philip, scornfully, and ran his hand gently along the sides of their mouths.
'You have sewn them up. In my country you would be sent to prison for such a cruel deed.'
The man fell into a rage and yelled loudly in his own language. The small boy ran to Philip. 'Go,
go! He call friends, they hurt you. Go!'
Philip put down the snakes promptly, thinking of the two girls. They must go at once if there
was any danger of this fellow's friends coming and making themselves a nuisance. 'We'd better
scoot,' he said to Jack. But it was too late!
Three youths had come running at the snake-charmer's call, and they surrounded the four
children, pushing Dinah close to the others. Philip put on a bold face. He walked forward.
'Make way!' he said. 'Make way, or we'll get the police.'
But the youths closed in even more, and the boys felt their hearts sink. They couldn't take on
these three and the angry snake-charmer too!
But Kiki was not going to stand this kind of thing. She danced up and down on Jack's shoulder
in anger, and screamed out at the top of her voice.
'Police! Police! Fetch the police!' she screeched, and then whistled like a police-whistle.
PHEEEEEEEEE! PHEEEEEEEEEE! PHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!'

Chapter 9
AT LUNCH TIME

KIKI'S shouts for the police and her marvellous imitation of a police whistle terrified all the youths.
They stood aghast, staring at this extraordinary parrot. Then, with one accord, they and the snake-
charmer took to their heels and fled. The snake-charmer snatched up his basket of snakes as he
went — all three were in it again, which was a pity.
The four children stood gazing after the runaways, most relieved. Kiki gave an enormous
chuckle, and then such a cackle of laughter that the children couldn't help joining in.
'Kiki! Thanks very much!' said Jack, scratching the delighted parrot on her head. 'I suppose you
heard Philip say the word "police" and that reminded you of your police-whistle performance. Very
very lucky for us!'
'No police came, though,' said Lucy-Ann. 'Good old Kiki! That was the best whistling you've
ever done — better even than your train-whistle.'
'We'd better get back to the launch, I think,' said Philip. 'I don't like the girls getting mixed up
in anything like this. Bill would row us like fury if something serious happened.'
They were just setting off, when a small figure ran out from behind a hut. It was the little boy.
He ran to Philip and took his hand. He knelt down before him.
'Take me with you, lord! Bula has gone with snakes, and I have no money. He bad man, I no
like him. Take me with you.'
'I can't,' said Philip, gently undoing the boy's hands from his. 'I will give you money, though.'
'Not money. Take me with you, take Oola with you!' said the boy, beseechingly.
'No, Oola, we can't,' said Philip.
'Yes, lord! Oola be servant, Oola work for you!' said the boy, clutching at Philip's hand again.
'You like snakes, lord? Oola bring you some!'
'Listen, Oola — I do like snakes — but not those with their poor mouths sewn up,' said Philip.
'And it would be dangerous to have one that could bite. Have you no family to look after you?'
'Only Bula, who my uncle is,' said Oola, still clutching Philip's hand. The boy felt really
embarrassed. 'Bula bad man, Bula hit, see, see!'
He showed bruises and weals all over his body. Lucy-Ann gave a sudden little sob.
'Poor little Oola!' she said. 'Can't we take him, Philip?'
'No, Lucy-Ann, we can't,' said Philip. 'We can't collect all the poor, ill-used animals or children
we see here — that mangy dog over there, the poor donkey I saw today, with sores all over it — the
little baby, so thin and tiny, that we saw lying on a dirty rug, don't you remember? They each want
help and friends — but we can't collect them all and take them to the launch. No, Oola — we
cannot take you.'
'What I do? What I do?' said Oola in despair.
'We'll take you to the First Aid Tent,' said Philip. 'I saw one somewhere about. They will look
after you and help you, Oola. They will bathe your bruises for you.'
Oola went with them disconsolately, dragging his bare feet, his head hanging down — but as
soon as they came to the immaculately white tent, with its nurse at the door in a starched apron,
Oola fled! They heard him wailing as he went, and both Dinah and Lucy-Ann had tears in their
eyes as they watched the half-naked little figure running behind a shack.
'Blow!' said Jack. 'I feel awful about this. I feel as if we've let Oola down very badly — But I
don't see what else we can do.'
'Come on,' said Philip. 'Let's go back to the launch. We're supposed to be back by one, and it's
almost that now.'
They made their way back to the river, none of them feeling very happy. Philip kept a watch for
the man who had questioned them, but there was no sign of him. They arrived safely at the launch,
and were greeted with pleasure by Tala. They all jumped aboard, and heard Bill's voice calling to
them.
'You're rather late. We were getting a bit worried about you. Go and wash and we'll all have a
meal.'
Over the meal they exchanged news with Bill. 'Did you find out anything about that fellow Raya
Uma?' asked Philip, dropping his voice so that Tala could not hear.
'Not a thing,' said Bill. 'But perhaps I shall when I get to Ala-ou-iya. Your mother and I just
wandered about, found out about this film, saw a friend we knew, and came back here. Very dull.
What about you? What did you do?'
Bill sat up straight when the children began to tell him about the man in the ice-cream shop who
had come up and questioned them. 'He didn't say your surname, Bill,' said Jack. 'He just kept on
saying "Bill". Wouldn't he know your surname?'
'No. But he might know my Christian name,' said Bill. 'You didn't by any chance say what my
surname was, did you?'
'Of course not,' said both boys, indignantly. 'But we told him a whole lot more Bills, and asked
him if he meant them,' added Jack, with a chuckle.
'What do you mean?' said Bill, puzzled.
'Well — we asked him if he meant Bill Hilton — or Bill Jordans — or Bill Ponga — or Bill
Tipps, who has four big cars and two small ones,' said Jack.
'Or Bill Kent the chimney-sweep — or Bill Plonk who makes biscuits,' went on Dinah.
Bill threw back his head and laughed. 'You little monkeys! All make-believe Bills, I gather.
Well, what happened next?'
'Oh — he asked where our launch was — we'd told him about the river-trip for our
convalescence,' said Philip, 'and we realised things might get a bit awkward — so Jack decided
that Lucy-Ann looked as if she was going to be sick, and we shot out with her, and hid.'
Bill roared again. 'I'd rather have you kids on my side than against me,' he said. 'You're too
smart for words! Well — it rather looks as if that fellow was a spy of Raya Uma's. What was he
like?'
They told Bill. 'It doesn't somehow sound like Uma,' said Bill. 'Except for the' teeth. No, I
don't think it was Uma. If he's going about openly like that he couldn't be up to anything serious.
He could be too easily watched. Still, it looks as if Uma is out here, if he has a friend who spots you
and asks you leading questions about someone called Bill. Thanks for keeping my surname secret!'
'Any other news?' asked Mrs. Cunningham. 'What else did you do?'
'Oh — the snakes!' said Dinah, remembering. 'You tell about them, Philip.'
Philip related the whole story, right down to where Kiki had yelled for the police and whistled.
Bill frowned.
'Now this kind of thing won't do, you know,' he said. 'You might have got yourselves into
serious trouble. You must never go wandering about native quarters again.'
'Yes, but Bill — we couldn't let that fellow go on hitting Oola without doing something about it,
surely?' said Jack.
'You two boys could have gone to stop the man, and have sent the girls away for help — they
would have been quite safe then,' said Bill. 'Even if your feelings run away with you, you have
ALWAYS got to think of your sisters first. If you want to jump into a brawl, do it when you're
alone. Understand?'
'Yes, sir,' said both boys, rather red in the face. 'Sorry, Bill!'
'Sorry, Bill,' echoed Kiki. 'Sorry, sorry, Bill.'
Everyone laughed, and Bill changed the subject. 'That's an extraordinary place,' he said,
nodding his head towards Ciné-Town. 'Scores of all kinds of buildings put up just for six months!
Did you see the fair they've got there?'
'No,' said the children, surprised. 'We missed that.'
'Oh yes — hoopla stalls, gambling games, dancing girls, shooting acts and goodness knows
what,' said Bill. 'I've no doubt your snake-charmer came from there. Whether he will venture back
again after Kiki's alarming call for the police I very much doubt. They've even got a fire-eater
there.'
'A fire-eater!' said Philip. 'I'd like to see him do his act. Take us, Bill!'
'No, I think not,' said Bill. 'I'd better be getting on to Ala-ou-iya. That's where I really hope to
get news of Uma. You'll have to hope to see a fire-eater another time. By the way, did you see the
fellow climbing a ladder of knives? We saw him just as we came back.'
'Yes, we saw him too,' said Jack. 'I do wish we had more time to spend at Ciné-Town — it's
ugly and queer, but it's quite fascinating!'
Bill got up, filling his pipe. He called to Tala. 'We've finished, Tala. Start for Ala-ou-iya in an
hour's time, please. We should be there about six o'clock. We'll spend the night there, off-shore, of
course.'
'Good, Master!' called back Tala, and came to collect the trays. The children settled down under
an awning to read. Bill had given them some books about the countryside nearby, telling them that
it was extremely interesting, and that civilisations thousands of years old had lived in the
countryside they passed on their way down the river.
It was a pleasant trip on the water that afternoon. Ciné-Town was soon left behind as the launch
glided slowly and smoothly along. Tala called to them just before six o'clock.
'We come to Ala-ou-iya!' he chanted, making the name sing on his tongue. 'You know old
town, Master? It called Ala-ou-iya, Gateway of Kings!'

Chapter 10
THAT NIGHT

TALA took the launch deftly to a mooring-post by a small wooden jetty. One or two fishing-boats
were there already. Trees came right down to the water, but beyond them the children could see the
outlines of native houses, low and whitewashed. Smoke rose on the evening air, rising straight up,
for there was no breeze away from the river.
'What did Tala mean — that Ala-ou-iya is the Gateway of Kings?' asked Dinah. 'It says that too
in the books you gave us to read, Bill — but it doesn't explain it.'
'I don't expect it means anything much,' said Bill. 'Unless it is a name handed down from old
times, when much of this country was the site of civilisations thousands of years old.'
'As old as Ur, the town in the Bible?' asked Lucy-Ann.
'Yes — as old as Ur — and probably much older!' said Bill, with a laugh. 'There must have
been great palaces and temples here in this country even before the Great Flood, when Noah sailed
off in his Ark.'
'Oh! "The Gateway of Kings" might really have meant something then,' said Dinah. 'There
might have been a golden gateway leading to a palace — or to a temple. I wish this book explained
more. Bill, it's strange, isn't it, to think that perhaps seven or eight thousand years ago, if we had
sailed down this river, we might have passed the most wonderful buildings on the way! All
towering high and glittering in the sun!'
'We might have seen the Tower of Babylon, that reached to the sky,' said Lucy-Ann. 'Should
we, Bill?'
'Not from this river. Babylon is miles away,' said Bill. 'Look — here comes nightfall — and out
come the stars!'
'And we can see the gleam of the fires now, outside the huts, through the trees,' said Dinah. 'I
love the evenings here. That little group of native houses looks most picturesque now — but I know
if we went and sat near them they would smell horrid. It's a pity.'
'Spitty!' said Kiki, at once. 'Spitty, spitty, spitty.'
'I didn't say that, Kiki,' said Dinah. 'I said "It's a pity." Don't be rude!'
'Spitty,' said Kiki, working herself up in a crescendo. 'Spitty, spitty, SPITTY . . .'
'Be quiet,' said Jack, and tapped her on the head.
'Spitty!' repeated Kiki at once, and went off into a shriek of laughter. Tala burst into laughter
too, and his huge guffaw made them all jump. He thought Kiki was the funniest thing he had ever
met, and was always bringing her titbits. He brought her one now — a piece of pineapple out of a
tin. She took it in one foot, and shook the juice from it.
'Don't!' said Dinah. 'I don't like pineapple juice down my neck, Kiki. Do be good.'
'Good, good, goody good,' said Kiki and nibbled daintily at the pineapple. 'Good boy, goodbye,
good morning, good afternoon, good . . .'
Tala roared again, and Bill motioned him away. He would have stood all evening watching Kiki
if he had been allowed to.
'Are you going ashore tomorrow or tonight, Bill?' asked Mrs. Cunningham.
'Tonight, I think,' said Bill. 'The man I want to talk to may be out all day — and anyway I'd
rather talk to him at night, with no one about.'
Bill went off about nine o'clock, slipping like a shadow through the trees. He had been told how
to find the man he wanted, and any native would direct him to the house, which was built alongside
a big store.
'I think I'll turn in,' said Mrs. Cunningham, after a while. 'I don't know why this air makes me
feel so sleepy, but it does. You turn in too, children — and remember your mosquito-nets!'
Dinah was already yawning. She and Lucy put up their net not far from Mrs. Cunningham,
arranging it over their mattress on the deck. The boys were not sleepy and hung over the side of the
launch, talking in whispers. Tala could be heard snoring at the other end of the boat.
'Wonder how Bill's getting on,' said Jack, in a low tone. 'Shall we wait up for him?'
'No. Better not. He may be pretty late,' said Philip. 'Let's turn in now. It must be about half-past
ten. Where's our net? Oh, you've got it. Good. Come on then.'
They lay down on their mattress, glad to feel cool after the heat of the day. It was very peaceful
lying there, hearing the small lappings of the river, and a night-bird calling out suddenly, or a fish
jumping in the darkness.
Jack went drifting off to sleep, and began to dream of enormous palaces and golden gates, and
vast store-houses of treasure. Philip tossed and turned, listening for Bill.
Ah! There he was! Philip heard a noise as if someone were creeping on to the launch, trying to
keep as quiet as possible. He listened for Bill to strike a match and smoke a last cigarette as he
always did. But no sound came. Bill must have decided to turn in at once.
Another small sound made him sit up suddenly. Was that Bill? Somehow it didn't sound like
him. Bill was big and heavy, and no matter how quiet he tried to be, he always made some noise.
Surely he would have made more noise than this? If it wasn't Bill — then who was it?
Philip rolled quietly off his mattress and pushed aside the mosquito-net. He sat on the bare floor
of the deck and listened again. Yes — someone was creeping about! Someone in bare feet.
It couldn't be Tala. He had bare feet — but Philip could quite well hear his snores at the other
end of the boat. Was it — was it that man who had asked them questions about Bill, come to snoop
about? Or could it possibly be the snake-charmer, come for a revenge of some sort? No — that was
impossible, surely!
Philip listened once more. A small sound came to him again, this time down in the cabin of the
launch. He crept silently over the deck, only the stars showing him the way.
He came to the top of the hatchway steps that led down to the cabin, and listened again. Yes,
someone was down there — and it sounded as if the someone was helping himself to food. And
drink too! There was a noise exactly like someone drinking!
Philip thought it was probably some native from the group of huts beyond the trees. What should
he do? Wake Tala? That might be a bit of a job, and Tala would probably wake up in a fright and
yell, which might give the intruder time to get away!
Then a bright thought came to Philip. Of course — he could close the hatchway and catch the
thief that way! So he tried to shut it down, but it was tightly fastened back, and he couldn't move it.
He decided to creep back to Jack and wake him. Together they would be a match for any native.
He crept back very quietly, stopping every now and again to listen for any other sounds from the
intruder. He half thought he heard one behind him and listened again. No. Nothing.
On he went, and rounded the corner that led to his mattress, coming out of the shadow into the
starlight.
And then he saw a black shadow standing in front of him! A shadow that seemed to look at him
and recognise him. It flung itself on him, and held him tightly, while he struggled to shake it off.
'Lord!' said the shadow. 'Lord, Oola follow you. Oola here, lord. Oola here!'
The sound of Oola's voice woke everyone up — everyone, that is, except the snoring Tala. Mrs.
Cunningham sat up at once. Jack leapt off his mattress and found himself entangled in his
mosquito-net. The girls sat up with hearts thumping loudly. What was happening?
Jack switched on a torch, and Dinah felt about for hers. Mrs. Cunningham threw aside her net,
and flashed her own torch in the direction of the noise. It lighted up a queer sight!
Philip was standing on the deck, and little Oola was kneeling in front of him, his arms clasping
Philip's knees so tightly that the boy couldn't move!
'Let go!' said Philip. 'You're waking everyone up. What on earth have you come here for?'
'Oola yours, lord,' said the small voice. 'Oola belong you. Not send Oola away.'
'Philip! What is all this?' called Mrs. Cunningham. 'Where's Bill? Isn't he back yet?'
'No, Mother!' said Philip. 'This is the kid we rescued from that snake-charmer we told you
about — the one who was beating him. He's followed us all the way here!'
'Oola follow boat, all way, all way, Oola run,' said Oola.
'Good gracious! Fancy running all the way down the banks of the river!' said Jack. 'Poor little
creature! He seems determined to be your slave, Philip. Oola, are you hungry?'
'Oola eat down there,' said the little boy, pointing towards the hatchway. 'Oola no food two,
three days.'
Mrs. Cunningham examined him by the light of her torch, and exclaimed in horror. 'Why, he's
absolutely covered in bruises and weals — and he's as thin as a rake. Poor little thing! Has he
really run all the way after the boat to find you, Philip?'
'Seems so,' said Philip, finding his heart suddenly full of pity and affection for this strange little
creature. He couldn't bear to think of him clambering through the bushes by the riverside all day
long, trying to follow the boat — hungry, thirsty, tired and sore. All because Philip had rescued him
from his hateful uncle! Perhaps nobody had ever been kind to him before.
Suddenly a voice came from the bank. 'Hallo! Are you all still up? I hope you didn't wait for
me.'
It was Bill. He leapt on to the launch, saw Oola kneeling on the deck, and stopped in
amazement.
'Whatever's all this? What's happening?' he demanded. 'Who's this come to visit us in the
middle of the night?'

Chapter 11
OOLA AND HIS PRESENT

OOLA crouched down at the sound of Bill's loud voice. Philip felt him trembling against his knees.
He pulled him up. 'It's all right,' he said. 'Don't be frightened. Bill, this is that kid we rescued this
morning from the snake-charmer. He's followed us all the way here, running along the banks.'
Bill stared in astonishment. 'But — he can't do this!' he said. 'Climbing on board someone
else's boat in the middle of the night! Has he stolen anything? These small kids are taught to steal
as soon as they can walk.'
'He took some food from the cabin. He says he hasn't had any for two or three days,' said Lucy-
Ann. 'Bill, he seems to think he wants to be Philip's slave. Whatever are we to do?'
'He'll have to go,' said Bill. 'It's just a trick to get on the boat. No doubt his snake-charmer
uncle has put him up to this, and is waiting for his share of the goods! Clear off, now, boy! Quick!'
Oola was so scared that he could hardly walk. He left Philip and stumbled over the deck towards
the jetty. As he passed Mrs. Cunningham, she put out her hand to the stumbling boy, and caught
him, so that he came to a standstill. She turned him round gently so that he stood in the light of her
torch, with his back towards Bill.
'Bill — look!' she said. And Bill looked, and saw the poor thin little body, with the bruises all
over it. He gave an exclamation.
'Good heavens! Who did that? Poor little creature, he looks half-starved. Come here, Oola.'
Oola came, half reassured by the kinder tone in Bill's voice. Bill shone his torch on him, and the
boy blinked. 'Why did you come, Oola?' asked Bill, still stern. 'Tell me the truth and nothing will
harm you.'
'I come find him,' said Oola, and pointed to Philip. 'I make him my lord. Oola his servant. Oola
bring present for lord.'
Bill looked him over. Except for the dirty cloth round his waist, Oola had nothing to bring!
'You bring no present,' said Bill. 'Why do you lie, Oola?'
'Oola spik truth,' said the boy. 'My lord, he say he like snake. Very much like snake. So Oola
bring one. Bargua snake!'
And, to everyone's horror, Oola slid his hand into his waist-cloth and brought out a slim,
wriggling green snake, spotted with bright red and yellow!
'Its mouth isn't sewn up!' yelled Jack. 'Look out, everybody! Look out, Oola, you fathead! It's a
poisonous snake. Its bite will kill you!'
Dinah shot to the hatchway, ran down and locked herself into a cupboard, trembling all over. A
bargua! One of the most poisonous snakes there were! How COULD Oola wear it round him like a
belt! She felt quite sick.
Oola still held the snake, which writhed about in his hand, opening its mouth and showing its
forked tongue.
'Throw it overboard, Oola!' shouted Bill. 'For goodness' sake, throw it overboard! Are you
mad?'
'Oola bring present for lord,' said Oola, obstinately. He lifted the snake towards Philip, who
retreated at once. He liked snakes. He was not afraid of them. But to take hold of a poisonous one
which was already frightened and 'full of anger would be a crazy thing to do!
'THROW IT OVERBOARD!' yelled Bill, terribly afraid that somebody would get bitten. 'You
silly little idiot!'
'Snake not bite,' said Oola. 'All poison gone. See!'
To everyone's horror he forced open the snake's mouth. Philip bent down and looked inside,
suddenly feeling that the snake might not be dangerous after all. He looked for the poison-gland
and the duct that led down to the hollow tooth out of which poison pours when a snake bites.
He looked up again in the midst of a dead silence. 'The snake's not poisonous,' he said, and he
calmly took it from Oola. 'Someone has cut the ducts that take the poison from the poison-glands to
the teeth. It's a horrible trick, because it usually means that the snake dies in three or four weeks'
time. Oola — who did this?'
'Old woman,' said Oola. 'Oola tell her my lord wants bargua snake, and she give Oola this one.
Safe snake, lord, not like snake-mouth sewn up. Lord like this one?'
Philip was now talking to the snake in his special 'animal' voice, and it was listening, lying quite
still in his hands.
'Poor thing!' said Philip. 'All because of me you have been injured! You have no poison in you
now, but you will die because of that. You shall live with me and be happy till then. Oola, you must
never have such a thing done to snakes again! It's cruel!'
'Yes, lord,' said Oola, humbly. He looked round fearfully at Bill. 'Oola stay?' he enquired.
'Oola lord's man. Belong him,' and he pointed at Philip.
'All right — you can stay for the night anyhow,' said Bill, feeling quite exhausted with all this.
'Come with me. I'll wake Tala and you can sleep with him.'
'Go, Oola,' said Philip, seeing the boy hesitate, and Oola went.
'I wanted to put some ointment on his back,' said Mrs. Cunningham. 'Poor little mite! Oh,
Philip — have we got to have that snake living with us now?'
'I'll keep it in my pocket,' said Philip. 'I won't let it out unless I'm alone, or with Jack. It's quite
harmless, Mother. Mother, can we let Oola stay with us? He can help Tala, and I'll see that he's not
a nuisance. I can't imagine why he has attached himself to me.'
'Well, you rescued him from that awful uncle of his, didn't you!' said Lucy-Ann.
'We'll see what Bill says,' said Mrs. Cunningham. 'He'll do what he can for him, I know.
Where's Dinah?'
'Probably locked in the broom cupboard!' said Jack. 'I'll go and see.'
Dinah was still in the cupboard, feeling rather ashamed of herself now, but not daring to come
out till someone fetched her. She was most relieved to see Jack.
Jack decided not to tell her yet that Philip had the snake. She might kick up a terrible fuss and
have a Violent quarrel with Philip. Better have all that in the morning, not now, when everyone was
tired and upset.
'Come on out, Di,' he said, opening the door. 'What an ass you are! The snake wasn't even
poisonous! The poor thing has had its poison-ducts cut, so no poison can run down to the hollow
fangs. We had all that fright for nothing.'
'I don't believe it,' said Dinah. 'It's still poisonous. You're just making that up to get me out!'
'No. It's true, Dinah!' said Jack. 'Do come out. Everyone wants to go to bed now. Oola has gone
to sleep with Tala. He's absolutely determined to be Philip's slave, poor little monkey!'
Dinah imagined that the snake had also gone with Oola, and she consented to come up on deck
again. Soon everyone had settled under their mosquito-nets and were soon asleep. What an
extraordinary evening!
In about half an hour, when Tala was snoring loudly again, a small figure crept over the launch
to where the boys slept. It was Oola. He had come to be near his 'lord'! He curled himself up on the
bare deck at Philip's feet, and closed his eyes, perfectly happy and at peace. He was with his 'lord'.
He was guarding him! No one could come near Philip without waking Oola.
In the morning Tala, as usual, awoke first. He remembered the episodes of the night and looked
for Oola. The boy was gone. He nodded his head in satisfaction. Had he not told Master that boys
like that were no good? But Master had said, 'He sleeps with you, he will stay here.' And now the
boy was gone, and Tala was right.
He prepared breakfast, planning what to say to Bill. 'Master, Tala right. Tala spoke true. Boy
gone.'
Tala was therefore extremely surprised and disappointed to see Oola curled up at Philip's feet.
He gave him a push with his foot and Oola was up on his feet at once, ready to defend Philip.
'You go back there,' said Tala, fiercely, in his own language, but under his breath so as not to
wake anyone. He nodded towards his own quarters. Oola shook his head and sat down by Philip
again. Tala raised his hand as if to strike him and Oola slid away deftly, running to hide.
But as soon as Tala went away Oola came back to Philip again, and sat looking down at the
sleeping boy with so much pride and admiration in his face that Philip would have been quite
embarrassed to see it.
The snake was safely in a little basket beside him. Oola scratched his finger against the basket
and whistled very softly. The snake hissed and tried to get out.
'You are my lord's snake,' Oola told it in his own language. 'You belong him, Oola belong
him!'
What a to-do at breakfast when Dinah realised that the snake now belonged to Philip, and he was
going to keep it. She gave such a shriek when its head peeped out of his pocket that everyone
jumped. 'Philip! I won't have you keep that snake. You know how I hate snakes. Bill, tell him he
mustn't. Bill, I do so hate them. I shan't stay a minute longer on this boat if you say he can keep it.
I'll go back to the hotel!'
'All right, Dinah,' said Bill, mildly. 'There's no need to go up in smoke. I shan't stop you from
going back to the hotel if you are so distressed. I'll get Tala to run you back with a note to the hotel
manager. You should be quite all right there, especially as he has two nice old English ladies
coming to stay at his hotel this week to do some painting. They'll look after you.'
Dinah couldn't believe her ears. What! Bill would actually let her go back — all alone —
instead of ordering Philip not to keep the snake?
'I'll call Tala now, shall I?' said Bill.
Dinah went brilliant red, and looked at him with tears in her eyes. 'No,' she said. 'I'd — I'd
rather put up with the snake than leave you all. You know that. You win, Bill.'
'Good girl, Dinah,' said Bill with a sudden smile. 'Now — what are our plans for today? And
WHAT are we going to do with Oola?'

Chapter 12
GOOD NEWS FOR OOLA

OOLA had been sent to have breakfast with Tala. Tala was very offhand with him, and kept him
strictly in his place. He liked children, but this boy had no business here, on his boat, thought Tala.
Oola did his best to please Tala. He listened to all that he had to say, only spoke when he was
spoken to, and put himself at the man's beck and call, running here and there at top speed for him.
When Tala was tinkering with the engine, Oola crept away to see Philip. He sat down in a corner
and feasted his eyes on the boy, noting the tuft of hair in front, just like Dinah's, the loud, merry
laugh, and the way he waited on his mother.
Oola nodded in satisfaction. This was his 'lord'; never before had he met anyone to whom he
wanted to give such utter loyalty or love. He had never known his mother, who had died when he
was born, and he had hated his father, who was as cruel as Bula, his uncle. When his father had
gone away he had given the boy to Bula, to be of use to him in his snake-charming.
And then had begun a miserable life for Oola, which had become steadily worse. But now — ah,
now he had chosen a master, his 'lord' Philip, the boy who sat over yonder, listening to big Master
Bill. Oola patted his full stomach contentedly, and thought about the present he had given to his
'lord.' Philip had the snake in his pocket — or somewhere about him — yes, under his shirt. Oola
could see the boy put his hand there at times as if he were caressing something.
He heard his name being spoken by Bill, who was just then saying, 'And WHAT are we going
to do with Oola?'
Oola's heart nearly stopped beating. To do with him? What did Big Master Bill mean? Would
they throw him overboard — or give him to the police? He bent forward anxiously to listen — and
just at that moment a strong brown hand came down, and yanked him upright by the neck.
It was Tala! 'What are you doing here?' he said, in his own language. 'Sitting here half asleep in
the morning! You come and help me, you lazy little son of a tortoise!'
Oola gazed at him fiercely, but did not dare to disobey. The words Bill had said rang in his ears
still. 'What are we to do with Oola?'
Bill and the others were discussing everything. Bill was all for putting the boy ashore, giving
him some money, and letting him go off to some relative. How could they bother with a boy like
that on the boat?
Mrs. Cunningham wanted him to have a chance. 'At least let him stay till we've fed him up a bit
and put some flesh on him,' she said. 'He's such a miserable little specimen. And when he looks up
at me with those big frightened eyes as if all he expects is a blow, I just can't bear it.'
'He'd be an awful nuisance to Philip,' said Bill. 'I know what it is when one of the natives takes
a fancy to anyone. Philip would find him underfoot all the time!'
'I could deal with him,' said Philip, quietly. 'I wouldn't mind.'
'What do you others think?' asked Mrs. Cunningham, looking round.
'We'd like him,' said Lucy-Ann, and everyone nodded. 'We'll keep him in his place — and so
will Tala! Once Tala has got used to him he'll like him, I know he will. Don't send him away, Bill.'
Dinah was sitting as far away from Philip as she could, trying not to think of the snake he had
somewhere about his person. She still felt very upset but she was doing her best to be sensible. Bill
felt pleased with her. He turned to her.
'You agree too, Dinah?'
She nodded. 'Yes. I wish he was cleaner and not so smelly, but I like him.'
'Oh, well — we can soon get rid of the dirt and the smell,' said Bill. 'I'll give him a trial, and
tell Tala to see that Oola washes himself, and has a clean bit of cloth to wind round his middle. I'll
call Oola. OOLA! OOLA!'
Oola dropped the piece of wire he had been holding while Tala tinkered with the engine and ran
forward immediately, his heart thumping. Was he to be turned away?
He stood before Bill, eyes downcast. 'Oola,' said Bill, 'we are going to give you a chance and let
you stay with us while we are on this ship. You will do everything that Tala tells you. I am Big
Master, he is Little Master. Understand?'
'Big Master kind, Big Master good!' said Oola, his eyes shining. 'Oola glad. Oola be good
worker!'
He looked at Philip, his face one big smile. 'I be with my lord!' he said to him. 'Oola lord's
servant! Oola work for him!'
Bill called Tala. 'Tala! Come here a minute!' Tala came so quickly that it was quite obvious he
had been listening. He bowed and stood waiting, his face rather sulky.
'Tala — Oola is to stay with us while we are on the ship. See that he washes himself and
becomes clean. See that he does not steal. Give him work to do. Tell me if he is good or bad.'
Tala bowed again but said nothing. He sent a quick look at Oola, who was now standing as close
to Philip as possible, his head bowed, listening.
'That's all, Tala,' said Bill. 'Today we go on down the river, and I will tell you where to stop.'
'Very good, Master,' said Tala, and went off, still looking rather grim. He heard his name called
again.
'Tala! Tala, Tala, Tala!' He went running back at once. But this time the caller was Kiki, who
felt that she could not keep silent any longer!
'Tala! Wipe your feet! One, two, four, seven, three, quick march! PHEEEEEEEEEEE!'
The police-whistle ending startled everybody, especially Oola, who almost threw himself
overboard in his fright. Tala forgot his sulks and burst into one of his enormous guffaws, staggering
about the deck in delight at the parrot's ridiculous talk.
'Stop that whistling, Kiki,' ordered Mrs. Cunningham. 'It goes right through my head. What a
din!'
'Din-din-din-dinner!' chanted Kiki, enjoying the interest she had created. 'Din-din-din . . .'
But a sharp tap on her beak from Jack silenced her, and she flew to a corner and muttered rude
things all to herself.
'Tala, take Oola with you and deal with him,' said Bill. 'See that he gets clean from top to toe
first of all. He smells.'
This was news to Tala. He hadn't even realized that Oola had an unpleasant smell. But he
sniffed in his direction at once and pretended that he could smell something horrid. He wrinkled up
his nose in disdain.
'Bad,' he said, scornfully. 'Bad smell. Pooh!'
'Pooh!' repeated Kiki in delight, waddling out of her corner. 'Pooh! Boo! Bad smell, pooh!'
Tala roared, grabbed Oola by the hand, and went off with him, Oola protesting all the way.
When they were safely out of hearing, Jack turned to Bill.
'Did anything interesting happen last night?' he asked. 'At Ala-ou-iya, I mean. You were jolly
late back, weren't you?'
'Yes. I don't know that I found out much,' said Bill. 'The man I had to contact didn't come
home to his house till fairly late, and I had to wait for him. He knows Raya Uma, of course, and he
thinks he is up to something, because he keeps disappearing, but nobody knows where he goes.'
'What is Uma supposed to be doing when he isn't disappearing?' asked Mrs. Cunningham.
'Well, apparently he is interested in Ciné-Town,' said Bill. 'He goes there quite a lot — has a
bedroom in the big hotel they've run up there. He says he was an actor himself once, and is
extremely interested in films — that may be just a tale, of course, to cover other activities.'
'Yes — but I can quite well believe that he was once an actor,' said Mrs. Cunningham. 'Those
photographs you have of him — they might all be of different men! I am sure he could put on
different voices and ways with each change of costume!'
'You're right,' said Bill. 'Well, granted that he was once an actor, and is interested in films,
where does he disappear to for a week or ten days every now and again? He's up to mischief of
some kind, I'm sure!'
There was a pause. 'What sort of mischief, Bill?' said Jack.
'Well — here is a list of some of his past activities,' said Bill, taking out a notebook. 'Gun-
running on a big scale — that means supplying guns illegally to those who will pay a big price for
them. Spying — he's clever at that, but no Government will use him now, because they can't trust
him — he's quite likely to go over to the other side if they offer him a bit more.'
'What a charming fellow!' said Jack, stroking Kiki, who was now on his knee.
'And smuggling,' said Bill. 'That's another thing he is very successful at. He did it on such a big
scale once that he almost made himself a millionaire — then someone gave him away, and in spite
of big bribes he offered to others to take the blame, he had to go to prison. Well — those are just a
few things he has done. Now it's said that he has very little money indeed, not many friends, and is
determined to pull off something big.'
'And you think that that something big might be hatched out here?' said Philip. 'How can you
stop him?'
'It isn't my job to stop him — only to report back to headquarters,' said Bill. 'If it's nothing that
will harm our own country or its trade, they won't do anything, but if he's stirring up trouble
somewhere — arming some tribe or other that will start a small war and plunge us all into danger
once more, then we shall have something to say.'
'And you found out nothing much last night?' said Mrs. Cunningham. 'Well, maybe you'll track
down something at the next place — what was its name?'
'A place called Ullabaid,' said Bill. 'The man. I saw yesterday says that Uma has a small motor-
boat himself, and uses this river quite a bit — so it's clear that the places he goes to are somewhere
on or near the river. Well — we'd better start. Go and see if Tala is ready, Jack. Tell him we'll go
slowly — it's a lovely day, and we're in no hurry!'
Jack hurried off to the other end of the boat.
'Can you start again now, Tala?' he called. 'You can? Good! Off we go, then!'

Chapter 13
AFTER TEA

IT was a lovely trip that day. The sun as usual shone all day long, and Tala kept near to the left
bank on which tall trees grew, in order to have a little shade when possible. They passed many
villages on the banks, and whenever the natives saw the boat gliding along, out they came and
shouted and waved.
Oola was kept busy by Tala, and Philip saw little of him till the afternoon rest. The sun was so
hot then that the boat was run in under the shade of trees, and moored. Everyone puffed and blew,
and Bill ordered a general rest.
Then it was that Oola crept forward to where the boys lay in a shady corner, and curled up not
far off, his eyes on Philip.
Philip saw him and grinned at him, and Oola was happy at once. 'Lord,' he whispered, 'Oola is
here to guard you. Sleep in peace!'
And, although everyone else on board, including Tala, slept soundly, Oola was awake, his eyes
darting about at any sound, but always coming back to rest adoringly on Philip's flushed face. Once
he saw the wicked-looking head of the bargua snake peeping out of the boy's shirt, and smiled
proudly. Ah — his lord had his present safely. He even kept it close to his heart.
Tea was a very pleasant meal. Everyone felt refreshed after their sleep, and was ready for
biscuits and something to drink. Mrs. Cunningham was the only one who wanted a cup of tea —
the others all demanded lime juice.
Oola had disappeared as soon as he heard Tala calling for him in a fierce whisper. Tala was
actually quite pleased with the small boy — but he was jealous of the way he went to sit near the
children when he had a chance. Tala would not have dared to do that.
Oola had become extremely interested in the launch's motor. Tala was already amazed at the
way the boy grasped all the details. 'Oola drive boat!' said the boy, after tea. 'Oola know how!'
'Oh no you don't,' said Tala, at once. 'No monkey tricks from you, Oola, or I go straight to Big
Master and say "Throw this boy overboard, he no good, Master!" You hear, Oola?'
'I hear, Little Master,' said Oola at once, terrified that Tala might complain of him. 'Oola clean
up oil for you? Oola polish?'
Yes — Oola was welcome to do any of the dirty work, certainly. The only thing that Tala
regretted about that was that the boy would become filthy dirty again — and Tala had taken great
pride in getting him spotlessly clean that morning. He had rubbed far too hard, and the boy had
cried out when his bruises had been roughly scrubbed.
'Ah — no smell, now, no pooh!' said Tala, when he had finished. 'You had much pooh, Oola,
very very bad.'
Oola certainly looked better now — clean, his too-long black hair smoothed back, and a new,
brilliant blue cloth round his middle, of which he was extremely proud.
They came to Ullabaid, a pleasant-looking village set a little back from the bank of the river.
There was quite a fleet of small boats tied to the fairly big jetty.
'I'm going ashore,' said Bill. 'Like to come with me? We'll leave your mother in peace, I think.
We're a noisy lot, you know!'
The children leapt to the jetty with Bill and ran ashore, leaving Tala, Oola and Mrs. Cunningham
behind. Tala was annoyed, because he would have liked to stretch his legs ashore too, and because
he could not go he would not let Oola go, either, and set him a long job to do. Oola scowled,
determined to slip off as soon as Tala's back was turned — or, as was most likely, the man fell
asleep. He had the native's gift of being able to sleep at any moment, and in any place, no matter
how uncomfortable.
The village of Ullabaid was quite a big one. There were the usual low, whitewashed houses,
with sleeping-roofs, and the usual hearths outside for cooking. There were also the crowds of
almost-naked, brown-skinned children, first half afraid and shy, then bold and curious.
Bill went to the biggest house in the place, which turned out to be a school. The teacher was a
native, with a fine face, intelligent and kind. He seemed surprised to see Bill, but when Bill showed
him a card, and spoke a few words in a low tone, he asked him in at once.
The four were left to wander round. Kiki was quite silent for once in a way, staring round at the
big-eyed children of the village.
A boy about twelve came up with a packet of post-cards in his hands. He showed one to Jack,
and pointed away in the distance, nodding his head vigorously, and saying something over and over
again.
The four children crowded round to look at the card. It was a picture of a ruin — an old old
temple which had apparently been discovered and excavated some years before when a famous
archaeologist had brought along a big digging-party.
'The Temple of the Goddess Hannar,' read Philip. 'Looks interesting. Shall we go and see it
while Bill is busy? Here, boy — how far is it? How — far?'
The boy could not speak any English, but he guessed what Philip was saying, and gestured that
he would take them.
They followed the boy between the trees and then through some cultivated fields, and were
themselves followed by a rabble of excited children, who could see that a tip would soon be
forthcoming.
And behind the rabble came a small figure, keeping out of sight — Oola! He had waited till Tala
had fallen asleep, and had left the launch immediately. He had asked where his friends had gone,
and had been told — and now he was keeping them in sight, not daring to join them.
The rabble of children began to push close to the four friends, and Jack looked round
impatiently. 'Keep back!' he said. 'Do you hear me? — keep back!'
But after a moment or two the little crowd was on their heels again — and this time Kiki took a
hand.
'Back!' she ordered. 'Back, back, quack, quack, BACK!' And then she gave her famous
imitation of an aeroplane about to crash, which alarmed the little crowd behind so much that they at
once kept a very long distance away.
Philip laughed. 'Good old Kiki!' he said. 'I don't know what we'd do without you!'
They came to the temple at last. It was rather disappointing — much more of a ruin than the
picture appeared to show. 'It's like one of those buildings in Ciné-Town,' said Lucy-Ann. 'All front
but not much at the back!'
'Look here,' said Philip, suddenly. 'See these funny little insects, basking in the sun — I think
my snake would like those. He's probably hungry by now.'
And, to Dinah's horror, Philip slid the bargua snake from beneath his shirt, and let him loose on
the ground, not far from the insects.
Dinah screamed, of course, and ran back. Her scream startled the native children — and when
they saw the snake, which they all knew to be deadly poisonous, they too screamed in terror and
fled.
'Bargua!' they shouted. 'Bargua!' The big ones dragged along the little ones, and even the big
boy who was the guide fled too, after one look at the gliding snake.
'Good gracious!' said Philip, quite as startled as the native children. 'They've all gone — just
because I took my snake out for a meal. What a to-do!'
'I don't blame them,' said Dinah, from a distance. 'We know the snake's safe — but they don't!
Honestly, Philip, that was a mad thing to do. Anyway, you'll lose the snake now, thank goodness!
It won't come back to you now you've let it loose.'
'Well, if it doesn't, it can go,' said Philip. 'But I bet it'll come back!'
The snake snapped at the insects, and had a very good meal. It also glided into some
undergrowth and caught a small frog, which it swallowed whole. Then it came back to Philip! The
others watched in amazement as it glided over to him, and, without any hesitation at all, wriggled
up his leg, made its way between two buttons of his shirt, and disappeared.
'Ugh! It makes me feel sick,' said Dinah, watching in fascinated horror.
'Don't watch then, silly,' said Philip. Then he looked round, alarmed.
'I say — I believe it's going to get dark pretty soon — what's the time? Whew, yes, we've let
the time slip by without noticing it. We must get back to the launch at once. Come on.'
But after about ten minutes the children knew they had gone wrong. They stopped and looked
round.
'We didn't pass that tree struck by lightning before, did we?' said Jack, doubtfully. 'Anyone
remember it?'
Nobody did. 'Better go back a bit,' said Philip, feeling anxious. 'Buck up. Darkness may come
at any moment and none of us has a torch.'
They went back for a hundred yards or so, and then took another path. But this one led them into
a wood and they knew that was wrong. They went back again, all of them in rather a panic.
'I'll shout and see if those native children will come back,' said Jack. So he called in a stentorian
voice: 'Hey, you kids! Come back! Come back, I say!'
'Come back, I say!' echoed Kiki, and ended with a screech that could surely have been heard
half a mile away.
But no little dark-skinned children came running up. Except for a bird that went on and on
singing without a stop, there was hardly a sound to be heard.
'What are we to do?' said Jack, anxiously. 'There isn't even a house in sight. Gosh, this is awful,
Philip!'
'What I'm afraid of is that darkness will fall suddenly, as it always does here,' said Philip.
And, just as he said that, darkness did fall, like a black curtain! Now they were truly lost, and
Lucy-Ann caught hold of Jack's hand in fright.
'What are we to do?' she said. 'What are we to do?'

Chapter 14
BACK TO THE BOAT

THE four children stood in the darkness, hoping to see the stars shine out bright and clear. Then
they might be able to see a little. But for once in a way it was a cloudy night, and only when the
clouds parted could a few stars be seen.
Their eyes got used to the darkness in a little while, and they made a few steps forward. Then
Jack thought he caught sight of something moving cautiously a short distance away.
'Who's there?' he called at once. 'Don't come any nearer. Who is it?'
The shadow moved quickly forward, and knelt down at Philip's feet. He felt two hands grasping
his knees. It was Oola!
'Oola here, lord,' said a voice. 'Oola follow, follow. Tala say no, not come, but Oola come. Oola
guard you, lord.'
Such a wave of relief went over all four children that they could hardly speak!
'Oola! Goodness gracious, you're the last person we expected,' said Philip, gladly. He patted the
boy's head as he knelt. 'Get up. We're VERY glad to see you. We're lost. Do you know the way
back to the launch?'
'Yes, lord,' said Oola, delighted at the pat on his head. 'Oola take you now. Follow Oola.'
'Have you been behind us all the time, Oola?' asked Lucy-Ann, astonished.
'Yes, Missy, all time Oola follow, follow,' said Oola, walking on ahead. 'Oola guard his lord.'
Oola seemed to have cat's eyes. He went forward without any hesitation, taking this path and
that, and at last they came to the village, which now had fires alight, and looked rather mysterious.
The native children came running up when they saw strangers walking through their village —
but when they saw that it was the same children who had had the terrible snake, they ran away in
fear, crying out loudly, 'Bargua! Bargua!'
Philip stopped. He had seen the big boy who had acted as guide. He was standing some distance
away, peering at them, lighted by the flames from a fire.
'Oola — see that boy over there?' said Philip, pointing. 'Go give him this money.'
'No! Boy not good!' said Oola, indignantly.
'Oola, obey!' said Philip in a commanding voice, and Oola at once took the money and sped off
to the boy. Judging by his angry voice, he was ticking the boy off well and truly — but he gave him
the money all the same. The boy was delighted and ran into his house at once, calling out
something in an excited voice.
'After all, the kid did take us all the way to the old temple,' said Philip, and the others agreed.
'Whew! What a stir the snake made! I never dreamed that those kids would be so frightened.'
'We're going to get into a frightful row with Bill when we get back to the launch,' said Jack,
gloomily. 'He won't like us being out in the dark like this.'
'Let's hope he won't be back,' said Dinah, who had no wish to make Bill annoyed again.
They made their way quickly to the river, and went on board the launch. Mrs. Cunningham was
sitting reading down in the cabin, for it was unexpectedly cool that evening. She was most relieved
to see them.
'Oh — you had Oola with you — that's all right then,' she said,'as she saw Oola's face peering
down the hatch with the others. 'Bill's not back yet. Are you hungry? Because if so, tell Tala, and
we'll have supper.'
'We're always hungry,' said Jack. 'You never really need to ask us that, Aunt Allie. But we'd
better wait for Bill.'
Bill came back ten minutes later. 'Had supper yet?' he asked. 'Good, tell Tala we'll have it. I'm
famished. Well, what did you four do?'
'Nothing much — just went to see an old temple, but there wasn't much to look at when we got
there,' said Jack.
'There was a lot of digging round about this district some years ago,' said Bill. 'I've been
hearing about it from that teacher you saw — a very fine and intelligent fellow. Made me wish I
could do a little digging myself!'
'Did you hear anything about Raya Uma?' asked Jack, very much relieved that Bill had shown
so little interest in their own doings that evening. He was determined to keep Bill on some safe
subject now.
'Yes. The teacher knows him quite well, and likes him. Says he is a most interesting man and
can talk on any subject under the sun! Even archaeology, which is rather a learned subject — the
study of old buildings and other remains. He appears to think that Uma is here to study the old
temples and so on that have already been excavated — but he's not, of course. That's just a cover
for something else he's doing!'
Jack suddenly sniffed hard. A most delicious smell was coming from Tala's quarters. Fried fish!
'Yes,' said Mrs. Cunningham with a laugh. 'Tala has been fishing — and we're having his catch
for supper. Doesn't it smell good!'
'My word, yes,' said Philip. 'We've been having so many cold meals that I didn't even guess
that Tala could cook. I bet Oola is pleased — he'll enjoy a meal like that.'
'That reminds me — Tala was very angry because Oola slipped off this evening, after you had
all gone,' said his mother. 'He came to me in quite a rage. But as Oola had apparently done all the
work Tala had set him to do, I didn't take much notice. I suppose he went after you, didn't he?'
'Yes,' said Jack. 'He came to guard his lord! He's cracked about Philip. I simply can't
understand it!' He looked at Philip and grinned.
'I can't understand it either,' said Dinah, at once. 'I mean — I could understand him having an
admiration for Jack, because of Kiki — but why Philip?'
The conversation was cut short by Oola and Tala bringing trays. The big dish of fried fish,
garnished with some strange greenery, and surrounded by most succulent vegetables, was hailed
with enormous enthusiasm, and Tala grinned in pleasure as he saw the smiling faces that greeted
him.
Oola was a little subdued. He had been well scolded by Tala, who had threatened to tell Bill how
he had left his work and run off.
But when Oola had related to Tala how the children had been lost in the darkness, and how he,
Oola, had rescued them and brought them safely back, Tala said no more. He did not praise Oola,
for secretly he was jealous of what the boy had done, but at least he ceased to scold him.
Oola was very much hoping that Tala would let him share in this delicious meal, and so he was
most attentive and obedient. Tala could not hold his anger for long, and had already made up his
mind to give the boy a big helping as soon as he could.
Everyone set to and ate heartily, even Mrs. Cunningham, who usually had a very small appetite.
'Tala would make his fortune in a restaurant as a chef,' she remarked. 'What is this sauce? I've
never tasted anything so delicious in my life.'
'Better not ask,' said Bill, mischievously. 'It might be a score or so of some peculiar insects
mashed up — or . . .'
Dinah gave a small scream, and spat out a mouthful of the sauce at once.
'Don't, Dinah!' said Mrs. Cunningham. 'Do remember your manners. Bill, don't say things like
that. You've rather spoilt the sauce for me too.'
'Sorry,' said Bill, contritely. 'It was just a bit of fun. I do agree that this sauce is marvellous. Ah,
here's Tala. Tala, this sauce is fine. What is it made of?'
Dinah put her hands over her ears at once. She felt sure that it was mashed-up insects, as Bill
had said, or water-snails, or something equally horrible.
'Master, it is milk and onion, and bark of tree called in our language Mollia,' said Tala, pleased
at the praise. 'Also some mashed-up — mashed-up — how you call it? — er . . .'
'Insects,' supplied Jack, helpfully.
Tala looked hurt. 'Tala not use insects. Tala use — yes — it is mashed-up potato — a very very
little.'
Everyone roared. It seemed so ordinary after what Bill had been suggesting. Tala smiled. He
liked to make people laugh, though he certainly had no idea what the present joke was.
'Take your hands from your ears, Dinah,' said Jack. 'It was only mashed-up POTATO — very
very little!'
Dinah took down her hands, very much relieved to be told that the sauce was so harmless. The
dish was soon completely empty, and everyone felt much better.
Oola was sent with a dish of fresh fruit, bought by Tala at one of the villages that day. It was
about all that anyone could manage after the very rich fish.
When the meal had been cleared away, Tala and Oola sat down to theirs. Oola was very happy.
Here he was, with the most marvellous meal in front of him, and the evening's adventure to gloat
over. He had guarded his lord, and brought him safely back to the boat!
He began to tell Tala about it all over again, but Tala had no wish to hear such an epic twice. He
told Oola to take the dishes and scrape them over the side of the launch.
'Fish eat pieces, fish grow fat, Tala catch fish, we eat again,' he explained to Oola, who saw the
point at once.
Oola went to scrape the dishes, and suddenly caught sight of another boat gliding up through the
darkness, its prow set with a single light. He stared at it. Would it pass by without hailing their own
boat?
It slid in to the bank, and stopped by the jetty. Bill had heard the motor, and was already looking
over the side.
A man jumped out of the motor-boat and walked to where the launch was tied. He called up
loudly.
'Anyone there?'
'Yes. Who's that?' Bill shouted back.
'Someone to see you!' came an answering shout. 'Can I come aboard?'
'What's your name?' asked Bill.
'RAYA UMA!' came the answer, and everyone on board sat up at once. Goodness — Raya
Uma!

Chapter 15
MR. RAYA UMA

BILL was enormously surprised. He was so nonplussed that he didn't say a word.
'Hey — can I come on board or not?' said the voice impatiently. 'I heard there was an English
family on the river, and I thought I'd like a chat.'
Bill recovered himself. 'Yes — come on up,' he shouted back. 'You took me by surprise. I
wasn't expecting to hear an English voice here, I must say!'
'Shall we go away, Bill?' said Jack, in a low voice. Bill shook his head.
'No. Better stay with me. I don't know if he guesses who I am or not. Anyway, it's better if he
sees a whole family aboard. Here he is!'
Tala had gone to light the man up to the launch. Now he was bringing him to where Bill and the
others sat under an awning draped with mosquito-netting, lighted by a big lantern. Everyone gazed
at him in interest.
They saw a medium-sized man, dressed in ordinary summer clothes — flannel trousers, shirt and
thin pullover. He wore a white linen hat, and had a beard and thin little moustache. He wore dark
glasses like Bill.
He smiled down and the children saw that he had very white teeth. He bowed to Mrs.
Cunningham, and, as Tala held back the mosquito-net, he put out his hand. She shook it, and then
he shook hands with Bill. He nodded at the four children.
'Ah — you've got your family with you, I see!'
'Yes — the children all had flu very badly, and the doctor said they should go somewhere warm
— abroad if possible — so we decided to come out here,' said Mrs. Cunningham, politely. 'I must
say it's doing them a great deal of good.'
'Ah — and what are the children's names?' asked Mr. Uma, smiling down and showing a lot of
teeth.
Philip answered for all of them. 'I'm Philip — that's Jack — Lucy-Ann — and Dinah.'
'And what is the parrot's name? What an unusual pet!' said Mr. Uma.
'Her name's Kiki,' said Jack. 'Kiki, this is Mr. Uma.'
'Wipe your feet, blow your nose, fetch the doctor,' said Kiki, politely, spoiling the whole effect
by giving a terrible screech at the end.
'Don't, Kiki,' said Mrs. Cunningham. 'Not when we have visitors!'
'How did you hear of us?' asked Bill, offering Mr. Uma a cigarette.
'Oh, news soon gets round, you know,' said Mr. Uma. He gave Bill a straight look. 'I've no
doubt you've heard my name too,' he said.
'Er — yes,' said Bill, frowning as if he was trying to remember where. 'Someone told me of a
Mr. Uma who was interested in films at Ciné-Town.'
'Oh, that's only a side-show for me,' said Mr. Uma, puffing at his cigarette. 'My great hobby is
archaeology.' He looked at the four children and made what they considered to be a very feeble
joke. 'That's the study of arks, you know!'
The children ha-ha-ed politely. How old did he think they were, making feeble jokes like that?
Lucy-Ann tried to see if he had the snake-like scar on his arm, but his shirt-sleeves were long, and
she couldn't.
'We went to see an old temple outside Ullabaid this afternoon,'said Jack. 'Very disappointing.
All front and no back — like the one at Ciné-Town.'
Mr. Uma took this as a joke and laughed too much. 'Ah, yes,' he said. 'Well, of course,
archaeology is disappointing. Like the story of old Brer Rabbit, you know — "he diggy-diggy-dig
but no meat dar".'
'I suppose it's very very expensive to do a lot of excavating for old towns and so on, isn't it?'
asked Mrs. Cunningham, seeing that the children did not appreciate Mr. Uma very much.
'Yes, Ma'am! You can pay out thousands of pounds doing that!' said Mr. Uma. 'I've given it
up, it's too expensive. You don't make any money out of it, either — your only reward is the
excitement of — er — uncovering ages-old civilisations. All the same, it's a wonderful hobby. I've
decided to combine an interest in films with my hobby — make a bit of money in films, and spend
it wandering about this old, old country, making maps and plans of the last excavations and so on.
And what about you, sir — are you interested in that kind of thing?'
'About as much as the average man,' said Bill, cautiously, knowing that he was being sounded
about his own mysterious work. 'But any new experience is of interest to me. I write articles, you
know, and one of these days I'm going to write a book — plenty of interesting things to put into it!'
The children smiled quietly to themselves. Bill did write articles. That was true — but this was
the first time they had heard of a book. Bill could write a marvellous book if he were allowed to!
The things he had seen and done were quite unbelievable. They felt proud at having shared in so
many of his adventures.
'Ah — a writer! A man of leisure,' said Mr. Uma. 'It's only you writers and you painters that
can afford to dispense with an office and go all over the world to look for material for your brush or
your pen.'
The children began to feel bored. It was quite obvious now that Mr. Uma did not know for
certain who Bill was, nor whether he had come out merely for a holiday or on some other mission.
He and Bill had been 'crossing swords' so to speak, testing each other out. They felt that Bill was
winning. He had persuaded Mr. Uma that he was a writer, they were sure of it.
'Where are you going to next?' asked Mr. Uma. 'May I offer you any hospitality? I have a little
shack farther down the river — I'm on my way there now, actually. I would be pleased to give you
dinner — such as it is — if you and your wife would care to come?'
Bill considered this invitation quickly. Should he accept? It would look queer if he didn't. Well
— he might conceivably find out a little more if he went to Uma's house. So he nodded and
thanked him.
'Well, thank you, that's kind of you. We'll be pleased to come. When? Tomorrow?'
'Certainly,' said Mr. Uma, and got up to go. 'Tomorrow night at seven o'clock, shall we say?
Your man will know the landing jetty at Chaldo, I'm sure. I will be there to meet you and take you
to my house.'
'Stay and have a drink,' said Bill. 'I'll call Tala.'
But Mr. Uma would not stay. He bowed very politely, and raised the mosquito-net. Then he
almost fell over somebody crouching on the floor just outside.
He kicked out and there was a yell.
'Now then — who's this? Get out of the way there, lying ready to trip me up!' roared Mr. Uma,
losing his temper suddenly and surprisingly. He kicked out again.
Philip was up in a trice, guessing it was Oola who had crept up as usual to be near him.
'Mr. Uma — it's only the little native boy who helps our man,' he said, angrily, and at once felt
Bill's hand pressing his shoulder warningly.
'Sorry, Mr. Uma,' said Bill. 'I hope you haven't hurt your foot, kicking out like that.'
Mr. Uma didn't quite know how to take that. He recovered himself immediately, said goodnight
quite heartily, and was led off by Tala with a lantern.
'Oola! It serves you right if people fall over you, if you hide in corners like that!' said Bill.
'Bad man, that,' said Oola. 'Bad bad man. Oola come to guard lord from bad man.'
'Don't be silly,' said Bill. 'You don't know anything about him. Or do you?'
Oola shook his head. 'Oola know he bad man, Oola say so. Oola not seen bad man before.'
'Go behind with Tala,' said Bill. 'And don't come over to us again till we call you. Understand?'
Oola disappeared, and Bill went under the mosquito-net to the others. Uma's motor-boat had
now been started up, and had gone down the river, disturbing all the stars reflected in the water.
'Well?' said Bill to his wife. 'What do you think of our friend Uma?'
'I don't trust him a scrap,' said Mrs. Cunningham. 'He's, he's . . .'
'Slimy,' said Dinah, and everyone nodded. It was just the right word.
'What do you suppose he is up to?' said Bill. 'Anything?'
Mrs. Cunningham considered. 'No,' she said. 'I think he's got a bad reputation and knows it,
and he's nervous in case anyone should think he's up to anything and spy on him. I think he's
probably hard-up, and making a bit of money in Ciné-Town somewhere. He was so insistent on his
love for old buildings that I feel his real interest must be in something else.'
'You mean he may be using this archaeology hobby of his to camouflage the business he's doing
in Ciné-Town?' asked Bill.
'Yes,' said Mrs. Cunningham.
'Well, I bet whatever he's doing in Ciné-Town is something underhand,' said Jack. 'Probably
backing a shady little fair or something — or a string of shops — and having an interest in the film
too. Plenty of irons in the fire.'
'Well, if that's the kind of thing he's doing, it's pretty harmless from my point of view,' said
Bill. 'I am after bigger stuff than that — the kind of things I told you he had done before! If it's no
more than messing about in Ciné-Town, well, he's of no interest to the High-Ups!'
'Good,' said Mrs. Cunningham, heaving a sigh of relief. 'I don't want you mixed up in anything
dangerous, Bill — and I somehow think that Raya Uma could be very dangerous and very ruthless.'
'You're quite right, my dear!' said Bill. 'Now, what about bed? I'll just go and smoke my last
cigarette. The stars are out beautifully now, and I shall enjoy a quiet ten minutes looking down the
river.'
They all said good night. They were tired, and fell asleep immediately their heads were on the
pillows. Bill stood silently smoking, thinking of the strange Mr. Uma. Then he saw a small figure
creeping over the deck and settling down at the foot of Philip's mattress. Oola had come to guard
his lord!
Oola sat up in fright when Bill came over, on his way to his own mattress.
'You may stay, Oola,' said Bill, softly, and Oola sank down again happily. His lord was asleep
— and he, Oola, was guarding him!