Explosive Adventures (12 page)

What took place next happened so quickly that Billy hardly saw what was going on. He noticed Mr Bhalla reach into
his pocket and get something out, and then, with a flick of his wrist, toss it over Nicola’s shoulder. That’s madness, Billy thought. The snake will strike.

The snake did strike. With a sudden lightning movement it struck, but not at Nicola. The snake struck at the small square of bubblegum which Mr Bhalla had tossed towards it. And of course, with its snake’s sharp eyesight, it caught the bubblegum effortlessly. Its jaws snapped shut, the fangs sinking into the soft pink gum.

Of course the snake was now quite helpless!

“Hssss,” it went, from between its stuck-together jaws. “Hssss.”

“It’s completely harmless now,” said Mr Bhalla, with a laugh. “You can even step right over it if you wish, Nicola. It will take hours, maybe even days, before it gets that gum out of its mouth!”

They left the angry, but now harmless, cobra behind them and continued on the path. They could see the bubblegum trees in the distance now and soon it would be time to get into the skins. Then the real excitement would start.

In the logging camp, the men had just finished work. They had had a hard day of cutting down bubblegum trees, and they were resting, while their cook prepared
their evening meal. This was the time of the day that they always liked – when work was finished and they could sit about and chat outside their tents. But today there was something wrong.

“Do you think that business about tigers was true?” said one of the men. “I thought it was quite safe round here.”

The other scratched his head. “I don’t know. Why would that man lie to us? He seemed pretty sure that he had seen something. I think there might be tigers after all.”

“If I see a tiger round here, I’m packing up and going,” said another man. “I don’t fancy being a tiger’s breakfast.”

“Neither do I,” agreed another. “My wife doesn’t want me to be eaten. She told me so herself.”

The head man got to his feet. “Stop all this talk about tigers! I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again. This jungle is perfectly safe. There are no tigers.”

Just then, from some thick growth behind one of the tents, there came a noise. It was not a loud noise, but it made every head in the camp turn and stare.

“What was that?” asked one man. “Did you hear it? There’s something in those bushes over there.”

“I heard something!” shouted another, rising to his feet and huddling up with one
of his friends. “Do you think it could be … a … a … tiger?”

“Nonsense!” snapped the head man. “How many times do I have to tell you? THERE ARE NO TIGERS!”

He had barely finished speaking when another noise came from the bushes. This time it was unmistakable. It was a growl!

8

Tiger! Tiger!

From within the bushes, covered in his heavy tiger skin, Billy could just make out what was happening in the camp.

“They’re getting nervous,” he whispered to Mr Bhalla. “I think they heard your growl.”

“Good,” said Mr Bhalla. “Let’s just wait a few minutes. Let them think about it for a while.”

The men did think about it, and were clearly becoming more and more frightened. Several of them went to stand by the cooking fire, knowing that tigers were meant to be afraid of fire. Others stood close to the mouth of their tent, ready to dash inside if any tigers should appear.

“I think the time has come,” said Billy quietly. “I’ll go first.”

On all fours, looking quite like a fierce tiger, Billy started to move slowly out of the bushes. As he did so, he turned his tiger head from side to side, as if he were
sniffing at the evening air. Then, for good measure, he growled.

When the men in the camp saw him, a great shouting broke out.

“Look!” cried one. “Tiger! Tiger!”

“Where? Where?” shouted another.

“Over there, by the bushes! A tiger!”

As the shouting continued, Billy darted to another clump of bushes and disappeared.

“Calm down!” shouted the head man, who had been looking away when Billy appeared. “You’re imagining things. I tell you again, THERE ARE NO TIGERS!”

“But there was one right there,” howled one of the men. “A great big one!”

As they argued amongst themselves, Mr Gopal crawled out of the bushes and stretched out a great tiger claw.

“Oh!” shouted one of the men. “Another one! Oh, save us! Save us!”

“Where?” shouted the head man. “Where is it?”

He turned round, and saw Mr Gopal crawling across the ground to join Billy, closely followed by Mr Bhalla and Nicola.

“Hundreds of them!” shouted one of the men. “We’re surrounded by tigers!”

This was the signal for all the men to start running around at once. Stumbling over one another, they rushed about, picking up their possessions. Then, their belongings in their arms, their axes and saws left behind on the ground, the men ran as fast as they could down to the river, where their boat was moored.

“Grrr!” roared Mr Bhalla. “Grrr! Grrr!”

The sound of the roaring made the men run even faster. And when they reached
the river edge, they did not even climb into the boat, but leapt, like frightened rats.

In the bushes, the four tigers sat down and laughed more heartily than they had ever laughed before. Mr Gopal laughed so much that he almost choked, and he had to take his tiger head off to wipe the tears of mirth away from his eyes.

“I’ve never seen anybody look so frightened,” he said. “They were terrified!”

“They won’t be coming back here,” said Mr Bhalla, a broad smile on his face. “That’s the last we’ll see of them.”

“And your bubblegum trees are saved,” said Billy. “That’s the important thing.”

*

They could have gone home right then, but Mr Bhalla thought that it would be a good idea to stay just a little longer, just in case the men looked back from the river. So they all refastened their tiger skins and got down on their hands and knees again. Then they walked out of the bushes, with the proud walk of a group of tigers who had just done a very good job.

They prowled around the abandoned camp, sniffing at the axes and giving the occasional roar. It was all going very well. It had been a wonderful plan, and nothing had gone wrong. Or at least, nothing had gone wrong until then. Then it happened.

“That was a good growl you made,” said Mr Bhalla to Billy. “It sounded very fierce.”

“But I didn’t growl,” said Billy. “Maybe it was Nicola.”

“It wasn’t me,” muttered Nicola from within her tiger skin.

“Nor me,” said Mr Gopal. “I didn’t growl.”

They all stopped. Who had growled? Had Mr Bhalla imagined it?

He had not. For now there came another growl, and this time it was even louder. Billy spun round, and looked behind him. There, on the edge of the camp, was a great tiger, sniffing at the air
with its fine, proud tiger’s nose. And this tiger, for a change, was real!

“Let’s go!” cried Mr Bhalla. “If we scamper away he’ll think we were just a passing band of tigers. Perhaps he’ll pay no attention.”

They started to run on all fours, as fast as they could. It was hard work, but they were managing quite well until Mr Gopal stumbled.

When the real tiger saw one of the other tigers fall, he pounced. He did not like the sight of these four rather peculiar-looking tigers, and he thought that he would teach this one a lesson.

The other three stopped and watched in horror as the great tiger landed on Mr Gopal’s back and dug its claws into his tiger skin. Mr Gopal collapsed under the weight of the real tiger and closed his eyes. At any moment his tiger skin would come off, he thought, and the real tiger would find a tasty snack inside. What would it be like to be eaten by a tiger? Would it hurt, or would it all be over very quickly?
What will I taste like?
he thought miserably.

“Fight back, Mr Gopal!” shouted Billy. “Remember you’re a Gopal!”

Inside the tiger skin, Mr Gopal heard Billy’s voice and the words stirred him.
Remember you’re a Gopal!
Yes! He was a Gopal! He was the grandson of Sikrit Pal Praviwallah Gopal, after all, the man who had fought off a tiger by biting its tail!

Yes! That was it! Without wasting any more time, Mr Gopal reached out and grabbed the angry tiger by its tail. Then, opening his mouth as wide as he could, he popped the end of the tail inside and bit.

It did not taste very pleasant, and there was a great deal of fur. But Mr Gopal’s teeth sank well into the tiger’s tail and it gave a roar of pain.

“Take that!” muttered Mr Gopal from between his clamped teeth. “That’ll teach you to jump on a Gopal!”

The bite was too much for the tiger. Releasing Mr Gopal from his grip, he turned round to lick gingerly at his sore tail. This gave Billy his chance. Rushing forward, he helped Mr Gopal to his feet and bundled him off down the path, followed by the other two, all running as fast as they possibly could. Everybody was back on two legs by now, and had turned into people again – very frightened people running down a path with a tiger not too far behind them.

“Will he follow us?” gasped Nicola. “I’m sure he’ll be twice as angry now!”

“I’m afraid he might,” panted Mr Bhalla. “Tigers get very cross about this sort of
thing. They’re not ones to give up easily. We shall have to climb a tree.”

On hearing Mr Bhalla’s suggestion, they all stopped and looked about them. The path on either side of them was flanked by great towering trees, and if they managed to scale one of these then the tiger might walk right past them.

“What about this one?” said Billy, pointing to a particularly tall tree. “There are enough low branches to give us a start.”

“A splendid idea,” said Mr Bhalla. “You children go first and Mr Gopal and I will follow.”

It was not a difficult tree to climb, and soon all four of them were perched right
up at the top, looking down through the leaves to the path far below. Now all they had to do was wait until the tiger went past. It would soon realise it had lost them, and all they would have to do then would be to wait a little while before they climbed down and made their way home.

The minutes went past slowly and Billy was beginning to wonder whether the tiger had gone in the other direction. Then suddenly Mr Bhalla touched Billy on the arm and pointed downwards.