BIGGLES FLIES NORTH

by Captain W. E. Johns

XX. LOST (Pages 218 – 231)

Ginger has read about the stealth of Indians, but even he is amazed that the Indian could have sneaked up and taken the rifle – but there can be no other explanation. Now Ginger can’t return to the machine without running the gauntlet of the Indian’s fire. “Reproaching himself bitterly for his carelessness”, Ginger looks out of the window and moves out of the way just in time to avoid a bullet. The shot gives Ginger the rough idea of the Indian’s position and Ginger racks his brains about what to do. “He fell back on his old resort. What would Biggles do in such a case?” Ginger realises there is a slight fold in the ground outside the cabin and if he crawls outside into this depression he may be able to crawl round and get to him in the deceptive twilight. Ginger darts out and begins crawling but after he has gone about two hundred yards, a gust of wind brings a flurry of snowflakes with it. As the snowfall worsens, Ginger realises there is no need to stay prone as the snow blots out everything outside a radius of a few yards. Ginger walks swiftly back to the cabin – or at least towards where he believes the cabin to be. But it is not there. Retracing his steps, Ginger tries another direction. He knows the cabin can’t be more than a hundred yards from where he stands. Ginger starts quartering up and down, this way and that, counting steps so as not to go too far in any one direction, but eventually he walks into the blunt end of a twig. The snow stops and the moon breaks through and Ginger can now see the cabin and the aircraft. Ginger then hears the howl of a wolf and fearing being torn to shreds by a pack of them, he runs for the cabin. A chorus of howls break out and glancing over his shoulder, Ginger sees a line of black shapes breaking cover higher up the wood and streaking to cut him off. Ginger swerves away from the cabin and runs to the aircraft, which is nearer, praying he left the door open so he can jump straight in. He has and he takes a flying leap in and slams the door just as the first wolf jumps at him. Ginger shots it through the door and the rest of the pack tears it to pieces. The wolves then advance on the log cabin where others are already circling. Ginger sees, conspicuous against the snow-covered roof of the cabin, a man clinging on for dear life. It is the Indian. (Conspicuous against the snow on the roof was a dark object - is the illustration on page 231).