Explosive Adventures (11 page)

Billy’s Plan: Part One

The next day, over a tasty breakfast of poppadoms and marmalade, Billy told everybody about his plan.

“Our only hope,” he said, “is to scare those men away. If they become too frightened to work in the jungle, then they’ll leave.”

“And the trees will be saved,” interrupted Nicola.

“Exactly,” said Billy.

There was a silence while everybody thought about this. There was no doubt it was true; but there was something which still needed to be explained.

It was Mr Gopal who asked the question which everybody was pondering.

“But how do we frighten them away?” he asked. “It’s easy to say that you will frighten somebody, but how do you do it? Those men sound pretty fierce from what Mr Bhalla has told us.”

Billy smiled. “They may be fierce, but there’s something much fiercer than they are.”

“I don’t understand,” said Mr Gopal, shaking his head.

“Nor do I,” said his aunt. “I don’t see how we could frighten people like that.”

“We might not be able to frighten them,” said Billy. “But what about tigers? Wouldn’t they frighten them away?”

Mr Gopal snorted. “Of course they would,” he said. “But where are the tigers going to come from?”

Billy smiled. This was the funny part of the plan.

“You’ll see,” he said. “But first, we have to go off and have a word with these men. Just you and I will go, Mr Gopal. The others must stay behind and get ready for tonight.”

Once Billy had explained the rest of the plan, Mr Gopal was full of enthusiasm.

“What a brilliant idea!” he cried. “Oh, Billy, well done! I certainly wouldn’t like to be in those men’s shoes this evening!”

Together they climbed down the ladder from Mr Bhalla’s house, while the others waved farewell from above. Then, following the well-worn path that led to the bubblegum trees, they set off purposefully on their errand.

As they got closer to the trees, they heard a sound which made their blood run cold. It was the sound of an axe chopping away at wood.

“Listen to that,” said Billy angrily. “That’s a tree being cut down.”

“I know,” said Mr Gopal. “What a terrible waste of a bubblegum tree. A hundred years being thrown away – just like that.”

They followed the sound and in a few minutes, as they rounded a bend in the path, they heard a voice shout out ahead of them.

“Timber!” it yelled. “Down it comes!”

Billy and Mr Gopal stopped short. A giant tree was coming down – but where
would it land? Suddenly, there was a great crashing sound, and the sky above them seemed for a moment to be blotted out by a canopy of leaves and branches.

“Mr Gopal!” shouted Billy. “Run!”

Mr Gopal was confused, but Billy grabbed him by the shirtsleeve and tugged him off the path. He was just in time, for had he not done so, Mr Gopal would have been crushed by the great tree as it fell.

“Thank you,” said Mr Gopal, wiping his brow. “That was a very close shave. If you hadn’t pulled me away like that …”

He did not finish the sentence. Angry voices could now be heard, and within a few moments the two of them found
themselves surrounded by men with axes in their hands and red handkerchiefs tied round their foreheads.

“What are you doing here?” snapped the tallest of the men. “You could have got yourself killed then! You should keep away from logging, you know!”

“I’m very sorry,” said Mr Gopal. “But my young friend here and I are on a very important mission. We certainly didn’t want to disturb you.”

The polite tone of Mr Gopal’s words seemed to make the man a bit calmer, and when he next spoke he sounded less angry.

“Well, just watch out in future,” he said. “What do you want, anyway?”

Mr Gopal glanced at Billy, who now stepped forward to speak.

“Mr Gopal here is a famous photographer,” he said. “And we have come from a very long way away to photograph some animals which we have been told are to be found in this part of the jungle.
That is why we are here.”

The man looked at Billy and sneered. “Well, you’re wasting your time,” he said. “There’s nothing of any interest in this jungle.”

“Except for tigers,” said Billy quickly.

“What did you say?” said the man sharply.

“Tigers,” said Billy. “Big tigers. They’re very fierce, these ones, we believe – and very rare.”

This was the signal for all the men to burst out laughing.

“What nonsense,” said one of them. “There are no tigers here! There aren’t any tigers for miles. We should know.”

“But you must be wrong,” said Billy. “We’ve been told that they’re here, and in fact we’ve already seen one, haven’t we, Mr Gopal?”

Mr Gopal nodded energetically. “Yes. We saw a terribly big one only this morning. It was drinking from the river and I got a very good shot of it with my camera. I wish I could show you the picture, but it’s not been developed yet.”

The men stopped laughing. Billy noticed that one or two of them exchanged rather nervous glances.

“And what else have you heard about these tigers?” said their leader,
mockingly. “Have you heard that they ride bicycles and eat bananas?”

Billy smiled. “No,” he said. “Nobody has said anything about that. But we have been told that they’re man-eaters.”

As he spoke everybody became quite silent. The leader of the loggers stared at Billy, and Billy could see that there were tiny little drops of sweat forming on his forehead, just below his red handkerchief.

“Did you say man-eaters?”

“Yes,” said Billy. “We heard that they ate ten men further down the river. It was terrible. Only their hats were left.”

The loggers looked at one another again, and Billy decided it was time to go.

“Well,” he said. “We mustn’t keep you from your work. You’ve still got lots of those trees to cut down.”

“Yes, indeed,” said Mr Gopal as they turned to leave. “We shall just be on our way. And if you see these tigers, could you possibly let us know? I can’t wait to photograph them again!”

Billy and Mr Gopal walked back down the path, leaving the men standing around the felled tree.

“It worked,” whispered Billy to Mr Gopal. “It worked perfectly!”

Mr Gopal tried hard, but he could not help laughing.

“Oh, their faces!” he said. “Did you see how they looked at one another for support? Those men are scared absolutely stiff!”

“Yes,” said Billy. “Now on to part two of the plan!”

7

Billy’s Plan: Part Two

Back at Mr Bhalla’s tree house, Billy recounted what had happened.

“It worked perfectly,” he said. “But now we must get ready for the next stage of the plan. Mr Bhalla, have you got them?”

Mr Bhalla nodded. “I’ve laid them all out in the room next door,” he said. “And Aunt Gopal has been busy doing some stitching.”

“Good,” said Billy. “That will be one for me, one for you, one for Mr Gopal, and one for Nicola.”

Mr Bhalla opened the door with a flourish, and there in the next room, laid out on the floor before them, were four large tiger skins. Some of them had been used as rugs, and had holes here and there, but Mr Gopal’s aunt had done her best with needle and thread and these holes now looked far better.

Billy was delighted. “I’ll try mine first,” he said. “Then you can all see what it looks like.”

He dropped to his hands and knees, and Mr Gopal draped the skin over him, tying it underneath with strings which his aunt had cunningly sewn on. It was a perfect fit.

“Oh, my goodness!” exclaimed Mr Gopal. “A tiger! A tiger in this very room!”

Billy moved about a little, and gave a roar, just for effect.

“Oh!” shouted Mr Gopal. “My goodness me! Please help us, please! A tiger!”

Nicola tried her skin next, and she, too, looked very realistic. Then it was the
turn of Mr Gopal and Mr Bhalla, both of whom made very fine tigers indeed.

“This is wonderful,” said Billy, from within his tiger skin. “Now let’s take them off and get ready to go!”

They waited until it was late afternoon. India can get very hot, and nobody fancied spending much time in those heavy skins until it became a bit cooler. It was also better to wait, Billy thought, until it was getting just a little bit dark. Tigers look more frightening then.

After enjoying a final glass of the pink sherbet drink on the veranda, they bundled the tiger skins into one large bundle and Mr Bhalla lowered it to the
ground on a rope. Then they all climbed down the ladders to the ground and set off along the path to the jungle. Mr Gopal’s aunt had been invited to go with them, but, her work on the tiger skins over, she had chosen to stay with her new friends in the village.

“We must be very quiet,” said Mr Bhalla. “Those men have sharp hearing.”

They walked on, each person carrying a tiger skin under his arm. Each had his own thoughts. Billy thought:
I do hope this works. But what if they see the strings? What will they do to us?

Mr Bhalla, for his part, thought:
If this fails, then they’ll probably cut down the
bubblegum trees even more quickly – just out of spite
.

Mr Gopal thought:
My goodness! Should I really be prowling around the jungles of India dressed in a tiger skin – at my age? Should I?

And Nicola was just about to think:
Will the tail of my tiger skin
… when she stopped, and every thought left her mind. For there, directly in front of her on the path, was a large snake, coiled up and hissing, poised to strike!

Nicola stood stock still. She opened her mouth to shout out, but no sound came. She was utterly paralysed with fright.

“Nicola,” called out Billy. “Don’t hold us up! Come on!”

“Help!” squeaked Nicola at last, just managing to sound the word. “A snake!”

The other three stopped, and looked behind them.

“Oh no,” muttered Mr Gopal. “A cobra! Oh, goodness!”

When Mr Bhalla saw what was happening, he stopped where he was, a short distance behind Nicola.

“Don’t move,” he whispered. “Stay absolutely still. If you move a muscle, that snake will strike. Understand?”

Nicola gave a groan. The snake was hardly more than a pace away from her, and it was clearly very angry indeed. It was her worst nightmare – her very worst nightmare – come true.