By W. E. Johns
A lifeless murmur, like far-off thunder, reached their ears and taken Biggles to his toes with a hurry. 'What is it?' he gasped.-At the 1st sound Dickpa had leapt for the flashlight. 'Quick,' he snapped, because the flooring of the cave sagged sickeningly. 'Get out - it's an earthquake! Ah - stop!' he screamed. a trip to Biggles' uncle, Dickpa, lands Biggles, Algy and mechanic Smyth in a perilous event trying to find an old Inca treasure hoard.
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Extra resources for Biggles and Cruise of the Condor
For 1 / 4 of an hour or twenty mins Smyth laboured on the engine, the others looking at him with curiosity. 'It's the magazine, as I thought,' remarked the mechanic; 'brush has long past. i have a spare, inside of. ' In a couple of minutes the defective half was once changed and the reason for the breakdown remedied. As Smyth reached for the magneto disguise, and a spanner to bolt it on, Biggles grew to become away casually to come to his cockpit, however the subsequent second a shrill cry of alarm broke from his lips as he pointed to the financial institution, prior which they have been floating with ever-increasing velocity. 'We've drifted to the top of a few rapids,' stated Dickpa crisply. 'Get the engine all started; we now have no time to lose. ' An eddy stuck the nostril of the Condor and spun the computer around by itself size. They swung dizzily around a bend, and because the new vista got here into view a cry of horror broke from Algy, and he pointed, white confronted. excessive within the air, now not 1 / 4 of a mile away, hung a superb white cloud. A low rumble, just like the roll of far-off thunder quickly coming near near, reached the ears of the listeners. 'The falls! ' cried Biggles. 'The falls! Get that magazine jacket on, Smyth, for heaven's sake; if it's not on in mins we are misplaced. ' the present had now seized the computer in its relentless grip and used to be whirling it alongside at superb velocity; now and then an eddy could swing it around dizzily, a manœuvre the pilot had no technique of checking. 'Look out! ' Algy, taking his existence in his palms, reached some distance over the part and fended the Condor clear of a jagged element of rock that thrust a black, tooth-like spur above the skin. by means of his presence of brain the risk used to be avoided nearly ahead of it had arisen, yet little flecks of froth marked the positions of extra forward. instantly throughout their course lay a protracted, black boulder, a miniature island round which the water seethed and raged in white, lashed fury. 'If we hit that, we are sunk,' snapped Biggles. 'How lengthy will you be, Smyth? ' 'One minute, sir. ' 'That's thirty seconds too long,' answered Biggles, and the reality of his phrases was once in basic terms too obvious to the others, for the Condor used to be actually racing in the direction of the rock as though decided to spoil herself. A naked hundred yards past it the river ended suddenly the place it plunged out of sight into the amazing, seething cauldron less than. The rock appeared to actually jump in the direction of them. 'Steady, Algy! go away me if i do not make the bank,' barked Biggles, and sooner than the others may well detect his goal, he had seized a mooring-rope and brought a flying jump onto the rock. He landed on his ft and flung his weight opposed to the nostril of the laptop. Waterborne, it swung away quickly. The tail whipped around, the elevators actually grazing the rock, and the following immediate it was once transparent. Biggles took a lightning flip of the rope around a jutting piece of rock and flung himself backward to take the stress. The rope jerked taut with a twang like a good banjo-string, and the Condor, nostril in the direction of the rock, remained immobile, curling feathers of spray jumping up from her bow because it lower the raging torrent.