Explosive Adventures (10 page)

The jungle had now thinned out, and they seemed to be reaching the edge of a plain, with dotted trees, and mountains in the distance.

“We don’t actually live in the jungle itself,” said Mr Bhalla. “We prefer to be just on the edge. And now, if you look closely, you’ll see our place up ahead.”

They all looked ahead. There was a lot of grass, and a large cluster of tall trees, but nothing else.

“I can’t see any houses,” said Mr Gopal’s aunt. “Are you sure we’ve come the right way?”

“Ah,” said Mr Bhalla, smiling broadly. “Perhaps you should look up a bit rather than down.”

They looked up, and it was Nicola who saw it first. “Look,” she cried, pointing at the trees. “There’s a house!”

“That’s right,” said Mr Bhalla. “That’s my brother’s house, actually. Mine is a bit further on, in that large tree with the bushy top. And over there, at the
far end, is the school. And the hospital is over there. It has two trees all to itself.”

Billy was astonished, and as they drew closer to the trees, his astonishment grew. The Bubblegummies had made an entire village in the trees! Craning his neck,
Billy could see just how skilfully they had made it. Each house, which was beautifully fashioned out of wood, was connected to the tree next to it by a wooden walkway, and that tree would be connected to the tree beyond, and so on. There were ladders, too, which led from level to level, and swinging bridges, knotted with vines, crossing the wider spaces. You could live entirely in the trees, it seemed.

Mr Bhalla led them to the bottom of a large tree, looked up into the branches, and whistled. For a moment nothing happened, and he whistled again. Then, out of the thick leaves above, there
appeared a long ladder, being lowered slowly down to them.

“Please,” he said, gesturing politely. “Please climb up here.”

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Bungee Jumping

This is my house,” said Mr Bhalla, when they reached the top of the ladder. “Please come in.”

They followed him into the tree house, and found themselves in a large room filled with colourful furniture. Mr Bhalla
asked them to sit down, and then went off to fetch refreshments.

“Now, what is the trouble?” asked Mr Gopal, as they sipped at long glasses of a delicious pink sherbet drink which Mr Bhalla had given them.

Mr Bhalla put down his glass. “If you come to this window, you’ll see,” he said.

They crossed the room, which was swaying gently as the tree moved with the breeze. Mr Bhalla opened a window and pointed to the edge of the jungle.

“Our bubblegum trees grow on the edge of the jungle,” he said. “They’re very old trees. Each tree has to grow for at least a hundred years before it gives any gum.
Fortunately, nobody ever thought of cutting them down before, and so we’ve had a good number of trees. But now …”

Billy looked out of the window towards the jungle. Was that a plume of smoke in the distance? Or was it a cloud?

“Do you mean somebody is cutting them down?” asked Mr Gopal, sounding shocked.

“Yes,” said Mr Bhalla. “They are. It started a few months ago. Some men came and set up camp further up the river. Then they started to cut down our trees. They have wonderful wood, you see – there’s nothing else quite like it. The men cut down our trees and float them down the river to a sawmill.”

Billy was outraged. “But they’re your trees!” he exclaimed. “You’ve always looked after them!”

Mr Bhalla sighed. “We think they’re our trees, but these men say otherwise. We’ve tried to stop them, but they’ve just run after us with their axes and chased us away. There’s nothing we can do. Maybe it would be different if we were different people, but Bubblegummies don’t like fighting – we never have.”

Mr Bhalla returned to his chair and sank his head in his hands. “So that’s why you haven’t been getting your gum,” he said. “And if things go on as they are, in a few months the men will have cut all the trees
down and that will be the end of the bubblegum tree – forever.”

Nobody said anything. Billy thought that he had never heard such a sad story before. Surely somebody could think of something? Surely somebody could do something to save the bubblegum trees before it was too late.

Mr Bhalla invited them all to stay, and showed them to their rooms in his tree house. Then, since they had a few hours before dinner, Billy and Nicola set off to explore the Bubblegummie village.

It was a marvellous, exciting place.
Everybody was very friendly, and when they met some children coming out of the school, their new friends quickly agreed to show them round. They took them along all the walkways and swinging bridges, and even showed them up the
lookout ladders that led to the very tops of the trees.

“Why do you live in tree houses?” asked Billy.

“Why not?” said one of the Bubblegummie boys. “Wouldn’t you prefer to live in a tree house?”

“I suppose I would,” said Billy. “You get a much better view. And it’s cooler. And your house would never get flooded in the rain.”

“That’s it,” said the boy. “That’s why we live up here.”

Most exciting of all, though, was the emergency exit. This was right in the middle of the village, at the top of one of
the tallest trees, and it was shown to Billy and Nicola by the Bubblegummie boy.

“We have to have a way of getting down to the ground in a hurry,” he said. “Like if somebody fell, or if there were a fire. This is what we do.”

He showed them to a platform to which a thick pink rope was tied. “You hold the end of this rope,” he said, “and then you jump.”

Billy inspected the rope. It had a very strange feel to it.

“This feels like bubblegum,” he said.

“And that’s just what it is,” said the boy. “We use bubblegum for all sorts of things.”

He took the end of the rope from Billy’s hand. “Let me show you,” he said. “Please stand back.”

Billy and Nicola watched as the boy tucked the end of the rope into his belt. Then, without any further warning, he leapt over the edge of the platform.

The two children gave a gasp as they saw the boy plummet down.

“He’s going to hit the ground!” screamed Nicola. “Oh, look out!”

But Nicola was wrong. The long bubblegum rope unravelled swiftly, but then stopped, and began to stretch. It was just like a great piece of elastic, and it
brought the boy to a stop just before he hit the ground. Then, with a loud twanging noise, the rope jerked him back up, shooting through the air, to land on his feet on the platform.

“There you are,” said the boy. “It’s quite simple. If I had wanted to get off at the bottom, I would just have slipped the rope out of my belt. But it’s just as easy to come back up again.”

Billy laughed. “It’s just like bungee jumping!” he exclaimed.

“Of course it is,” said the boy. “We invented bungee jumping, you see. The Bubblegummies were the first to do it – not that anybody knows about that!”

He passed the end of the rope to Billy. “Would you like to try?” he asked. “It’s very simple.”

Billy’s heart gave a leap. The ground was a very long way away. What if the bubblegum rope broke?

“I’m not sure,” he stammered. “Maybe tomorrow …”

“I’ll go,” said Nicola, reaching for the rope. “It looks like great fun.”

Billy held his breath as Nicola launched herself into space. He would get into terrible trouble, he thought, if the rope broke, and he had to take Nicola home all covered in plaster. But it did not, and within seconds his sister was back up on
the platform, beaming with pleasure. After that, Billy had to do it himself, and he found it just as easy as the boy had said. So they each had one more jump, and then it was time to get back to Mr Bhalla’s for dinner. The sun was going down now, and night was falling on the jungle.

Mr Bhalla had prepared a magnificent meal of coconut rice, and there was more of the pink sherbet drink which they had all enjoyed so much earlier on. Then, because they were all tired from the journey, they decided it was time to go to bed.

As he prepared to go off to his room, Billy took Mr Bhalla aside. “Are there many wild animals here?” he asked.

Mr Bhalla smiled. “You don’t have to be worried, Billy,” he said reassuringly. “You’re perfectly safe up in the trees. The most we get up here is the odd monkey now and then.”

“But what about in the jungle?” Billy pressed. “Are there any … any tigers?”

Mr Bhalla shook his head. “No tigers, I’m afraid. There used to be, many years ago, but they moved on. So don’t worry about that.”

Billy thought for a moment.

“If there were tigers a long time ago,” he said quietly, “does anybody in the village have a tiger skin?”

Mr Bhalla looked at Billy in surprise. “What a strange question! But as a matter of fact, they do. We have three or four altogether. I have a very old one which my grandfather gave to me before he died. And there are a few others. But why do you ask?”

“I’ve had an idea,” said Billy. “I’ve had
an idea about how to help you. I’m not sure whether it will work, but there’s no harm in trying.”

Mr Bhalla looked at Billy, and for a moment it seemed as if his eyes would fill with tears.

“If it might save our trees,” he said, “then anything –
anything
– is worth trying.”

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