NO
REST FOR BIGGLES
by Captain W.
E. Johns
XIII. BAD LUCK (Pages 132 – 139)
“Biggles waited until the moon was riding
high and then moved the party near to the hangar, keeping just inside the
forest. It was painfully slow work, but
it would have been dangerous to expose themselves in the open”. The plan is to set fire to the hangar and
Biggles feels sure it will be made of a flimsy wooden construction, with a dry
thatched roof. If they can do that “the
show would be over as far as they were concerned” and they could meet Algy and
go home. This was all more difficult
than it appeared, as Biggles suspected that Bertie was feeling worse than he
pretended. He had lost a certain amount
of blood and was near to exhaustion, if not collapse. In his heart, Biggles doubted if Bertie could
walk to the rendezvous and he knew he and Ginger would not be able to carry
him. Biggles decides to go and have a
look round and he gives instructions in case he should not return. Ginger will have to leave Bertie to go and
meet Algy and then it will be up to Algy.
“Don’t worry about me, old boy,” said Bertie, weakly. “I’m all right. Sorry to be such a beastly nuisance, and all
that”. “You couldn’t be a nuisance if
you tried, you big stiff,” Biggles told him. He threw a meaning glance at Ginger and
walked away. Biggles then begins a long,
slow cautious approach to the hangar.
Seeing lights in the distance “Biggles moved on toward the lights,
peering and blinking through eyes that were now heavy from lack of sleep. He was, although it is unlikely that he would
have admitted it, nearly at the end of his strength, and was holding on by
sheer will power. (Hence the book
title, “NO REST FOR BIGGLES”). No
man can go indefinitely without sleep.
Nor can a man live on his nerves alone, however hard he may try to do
so”. When Biggles sees his objective –
the hangar, his heart sinks as there is at least a score (twenty) of
soldiers there. There are also some
“nondescript natives and, watching the scene, a party of the forest
tribesmen”. “The hangar was little more
than a palm-thatched roof supported by poles, which it overhung. A half-hearted attempt had been made to fill
in the sides with interlaced branches, but, having been carelessly done, most
of these had fallen away with the result that the interior was plain to
see. There stood the secret machine,
propped up more or less in flying position but a bit lopsided. Some men were working on it, although what
they were doing, or trying to do, was not evident. Whatever it was, they were making a good deal
of noise about it, as is the way of natives the world over”. The machine has been put in nose first and in
front of it – so at the rear of the hangar – were a number of petrol and oil
drums. Biggles stared at them. He was amazed and shocked. “Even knowing how careless natives could be
with inflammable and explosive objects he thought Christophe would have had
more sense than to leave large quantities of petrol in a place where men walked
about smoking”. The problem is that
there is no hope of getting near the petrol drums or the roof of the hangar to
set it on fire. Even if he did, the men,
if they kept their heads, would be able to drag the aircraft out before it was
affected. Biggles returns to where he
had left the others. Bertie is muttering
in his sleep. Ginger says that Bertie is
running a temperature. “That settles any
arguments about him walking to the aircraft,” said Biggles. “By tomorrow he’ll probably be in a high
fever”. “How did you find things?”
inquired Ginger. “Hopeless. The place is buzzing like a Woolworth store
on a Saturday morning. (The British branch of the F.W. Woolworth Company,
which had been founded in Pennsylvania, F. W. Woolworth & Co. Ltd, was
founded by Frank Woolworth in Liverpool, on 5 November 1909. Affectionately known as “Woolies”,
it went into administration on 27th January 2009). The hangar has a thatched roof, as we
thought. One match in the right place
would be enough to set it alight; but the problem is how to get the match to
it. You couldn’t get within twenty yards
of it without being seen”. “What about
the old Indian trick?” says Ginger.
“Shooting a blazing arrow into it.
That’s how they do it in books and on the films”. “So I believe. But this isn’t a book and it isn’t a film (Johns
must have written that with a wry grin).
I’ve always had a feeling that it isn’t as easy as it looks”. Ginger suggests they make a bow and
arrow. “It needn’t be very efficient”. He has some flex with his radio and they
could use that for string. Biggles
recalls seeing “a clump of bamboos” and goes to get enough for the bow and the
arrows. In under an hour, they have a
fairly serviceable bow. They tie tufts
of dry grass to half a dozen headless arrows.
Leaving Bertie asleep, both Ginger and Biggles go to fringe of the
forest by the hangar, where there are still loads of men, but more are sitting
down and some appear to be asleep as it is night time. Ginger lights their first arrow and Biggles
fires it onto the roof. It smokes for a
while then the smoke dies away. They try
again with the same result. Biggles is
worried that someone might notice the flaming arrow. They watch their third, hoping that a spark
will fall and it will set the thatch alight.
“But all that fell were some big spots of rain. Within a minute the rain was bucketing
down”. Biggles threw the bow away with
an exclamation of disgust. “Now you see
the difference between your precious films and real life,” he muttered. “After this deluge it’ll need a tin of petrol
to set anything alight. We might as well
get back to Bertie for all we can do here now”.
They return as the rain stops. As
they huddled together, shivering, Bertie opened his eyes and asked: “How did it
go?” “It didn’t,” answered Biggles,
sadly. “Bad luck,” said Bertie. “Ginger, hunched up, chin in his hands, gazed
at the sky, wondering what the morning would bring. None of his conjectures, it may be said, were
anywhere near the truth”.