For a moment, I seemed to see again the Huna girl standing on the veranda of the house looking across at me, the flat, empty face, dark animal eyes giving nothing away.
"Good God, you surely didn't let her fall for that?"
"What could I do, senhor?" He spread his hands. "I tried to argue with her, but I had no authority to prevent her leaving and she persuaded Avila and four of his men to go with her. For a consideration, naturally."
"You mean they've actually gone to Santa Helena?" I said in astonishment.
"In the mission launch."
I turned to Mannie. "And Joanna?"
He nodded. "She and Sam had one hell of a row that day. I don't know what it was all about, but I can guess. She told him she was going with Sister Maria Teresa. That she never wanted to see him again."
Poor Sam. So in the end, he had lost all along the line?
"You've been in touch with them?" I said. "They have a radio?"
"Oh, yes, I insisted they took the one the military left in my care. It seems the girl went into the jungle the day they arrived and has not returned."
"And that doesn't surprise me."
"You think the whole thing could be some sort of trap to get them up there?" Mannie asked.
"On her part, perhaps, to put herself right with her people if she wants to return to them permanently. They'd catch on to the idea fast enough.' I turned back to Figueiredo. 'What's the latest development?"
"Huna have been seen near the mission for two days now. Some of Avila's men panicked and insisted on leaving. It seems Sister Maria Teresa stood firm."
"So they cleared out, anyway?"
"Exactly. Avila was on the radio just before noon. Reception was bad and he soon faded, but he managed to tell me that three of his men had cleared out at dawn in the mission launch, leaving the rest of them stranded."
"Anything else?"
"He said the drums had started."
"Which was why you were trying to sober up our friend?" I stirred Hannah with my foot. "Have you been in touch with Alberto?"
"He's on leave, but I spoke to a young lieutenant at Forte Franco an hour ago who said he'd contact Army Headquarters for instructions. In any case, what can they hope to do? This is something to be handled now or not at all. Tomorrow is too late."
"All right," I said. "I'll leave at once in the Hayley. Is she ready for off, Mannie?"
"Is now. She was having magneto trouble, but I've fixed that."
"How come the Bristol's here?"
"Sam went down-river by boat and flew her back. Had to just to keep a plane in the air while I fixed the Hayley. Once that penalty clause comes into operation he has a fortnight to find another pilot. He still hoped something would turn up or at least I thought he did."
He hurried out and Figueiredo said, "With four to bring back you must go alone, which could be dangerous. Would a machine-gun help?"
"The best idea I've heard today."
He beckoned and I went round the bar counter and followed him through the bead curtain into the back room. He sat down, grunting, beside an old cabin trunk, took a key from his watch-chain and opened it. There were a dozen rifles, a couple of Thompson guns, a box of Mills bombs and quantities of am-munition.
"And where did you get this little lot?" I demanded.
"Colonel Alberto. In case of attack here. Take what you wish."
I slung one of the Thompson guns over my shoulder and stuffed half a dozen fifty-round clips of ammunition and a couple of Mills bombs into a military-type canvas haversack. "If this doesn't do it, nothing will."
I returned to the bar and paused beside Hannah. He moaned a little and stirred. I turned to Figueiredo who had followed me through. "I meant what I said. Lock him in the steam house and don't let him out till he's sober."
"I will see to it, my friend. Go with God."
I patted the butt of the Thompson gun. "I prefer something you can rely on. Don't worry about me. I'll be back. Keep trying to raise Avila. Tell him I'm on my way."
I smiled bravely, but inside, I felt considerably less sanguine about things as I went down the steps into the street
I took the Hayley up and out of there fast. The last time I'd flown her to Santa Helena it had taken me forty minutes. Now, with the wind under my tail, I had every chance of doing it in half an hour.
When I was ten minutes away, I started trying to raise them on the radio without any kind of success. I kept on trying and then, when I was about three miles down-river from Santa Helena, I found the mission launch. I reduced speed, banked in a wide circle and went down low to take a look.
The launch was grounded on a mudbank, her deck tilted steeply to one side. The hull and wheelhouse were peppered with arrows and the man who hung over the stern rail had several in his back. There was no sign of the other two. I could only hope, for their sakes, that the Huna hadn't taken them alive.
So that was very much that. I carried on up-river, my speed right down, and passed low over the mission. There was no sign of life and I tried calling them over the radio again. A moment later and Avila's voice sounded in my ear with reason-able clarity although the strength was weak and there was lots of static.
"Senhor Hannah, thanks be to God you have come."
"It's Mallory, I said. "How are things down there?"
"Senhorita Martin, the good Sister and I are in the church senhor. We are all that is left.' In spite of the distortion, the astonishment in hisvoice was plain. 'But you here, senhor. How can this be?"
"Never mind that now. I found the launch downstream. They didn't get very far, those friends of yours. I'm going to land now. Get ready to bring the women across."
"An impossibility, senhor. There is no boat."
I told him to stand by and turned over the jetty. He was right enough, so I crossed the river and went in low over the airstrip. There was no sign of life there, but there was a canoe by the little wooden pier.
I circled the mission again and called up Avila. "There's a canoe at the landing strip pier. Have the women ready to go and I'll come over for you. I'm going down now."
I banked steeply and plunged in very fast, going in low over the trees. A final burst of power to level out and I was down. I taxied to the far end of thecampo, turned the Hayley into the wind ready for a quick take-off and cut the engine.
I sat there for a couple of minutes waiting for something to happen. Nothing did, so I primed the two Mills bombs, shoved a clip into the Thompson, slipped the haversack over my shoul-der, got out and started towards the river.
Except for the path which had been flattened by constant use as a landing strip, the grass over the rest of thecampo was three or four feet high. Somewhere on the right, birds lifted in alarm. Enough to warn me in normal circumstances, but then it all happened so fast.
There were suddenly voices high and shrill, a strange crack-ling noise. When I turned, flames were sweeping across thecampo from the edge of the jungle, the long, dry grass flaring like touch paper. Beyond, through the smoke, I caught sight of feathered head-dresses, but no arrows came my way. Pre-sumably they thought me a moth to their flame.
It was certainly the end of the Hayley for as I turned to run, the flames were already flaring around the underbelly. I was halfway to the river when her tanks blew up, burning fuel and fuselage spraying out in a mushroom of flames. That really finished things off and within a few moments the entirecampo was a kind of lake of fire.
But at least it put an impassable barrier between myself and the Huna, one flaw in their plan or so it seemed. I scrambled into the canoe at the jetty, pushed off and found half a dozen canoes packed with Huna coming down-river to meet me.
Even with the Thompson, there were too many to take on alone and in any case, I couldn't paddle and fire at the same time. There seemed to be only one thing to do which was to push like hell for the other side and that's exactly what I did.
A point in my favour was the numerous shoals and sand-banks in that part of the river. I got to the far side of a par-ticularly large one, ibis rising in a great red cloud, putting what seemed like something of a barrier between us.
They were nothing if not resourceful. Two canoes simply grounded on the sandbank and their occupants jumped out and ran towards me, ankle-deep in water, the other turned and paddled back upstream to cut me off.
The men on the sandbank were too close for comfort by now so I dropped my paddle in the bottom of the canoe for a moment, pulled the pin on one of the Mills bombs and tossed it towards them.
It fell woefully short, but as on a previous occasion, the ex-plosion had exactly the effect I was looking for. They came to a dead stop, shouting angrily so I gave them n amber two which turned them round and sent them running back the other way.
Even at that stage in the game I didn't want to kill any of them, but as I picked up my paddle again I saw that the others were rounding the tip of the sandbank a hundred yards north of me, effectively blocking the channel. Which only left the jungle on my left and I moved towards it as quickly as I could.
Undergrowth and branches spilled out over the bank in a kind of canopy. Inside die light was dim and I was completely hidden as far as anyone on the river was concerned. I paddled upstream for a little way, looking for a suitable landing place and came to a shelving bank of sand where a creek emptied into the river.
I turned the canoe in towards it, aware of the Huna voices drawing nearer, aware in the same moment of another canoe lying high on the mudbank inside the mouth of the creek, as if left there by floodwater, tilted to one side so that I could see it was not empty.
I splashed through the water towards it and knelt down, groping amongst the broken bones, the tattered scraps of what had once been nuns' habits. They were both there, but I could only find one identity chain.Sister Anne Josepha. L.S.O.P. It was enough. One mystery was solved at least. I dropped the disc and chain into my pocket and started up the creek as the canoes moved in behind me.
I had about three hundred yards to go to the mission and it seemed sensible to get there as quickly as possible. I started to run, holding the Thompson at the high port, ready for action in case of trouble.
I kept as close to the riverbank as possible, mainly because the ground was clearer there and I could see what I was doing. I could hear their voices high and shrill, down on the river, and there was a crashing somewhere behind me in the brash. I turned and loosed off, raking the undergrowth, just to show them I meant business, then ran on, bursting out of the forest into the open a couple of minutes later.
The church was only thirty or forty yards away and I put down my head and ran like hell, yelling at the top of my voice. An arrow whispered past me and buried itself in the door, then another as I went up the steps.
I turned and fired as a reflex action towards the dark shadows at the edge of the trees, each topped by a bright splash of colour. I couldn't tell if I'd hit anything. In any case, at that moment, the door opened behind me, a hand grabbed me by the shoulder and pulled me inside so forcibly that I lost my balance.
When I sat up, I found Avila leaning against the door clutch-ing a carbine. Sister Maria Teresa and Joanna Martin on either side of him. The American girl was holding a rifle.
She leaned it against the wall and dropped to her knees be-side me. "Are you all right, Neil?"
"Still in one piece as far as I can tell."
"What happened out there? We heard a terrific explosion."
"They set fire to thecampo and the Hayley went up with it I was lucky to get here."
"Then we are finished, senhor/ Avila cut in.'Is that what you are saying? That there is nothing to be done?"
"Oh, I don't know," I said. "You could always ask Sister Maria Teresa to pray."
A drum started to beat monotonously in the distance.
FIFTEEN
The Last Show
There was still the radio, but according to Avila, he had tried to raise Landro on several occasions since he'd last had contact at noon and I knew Figueiredo had been trying to get through to him which meant something was wrong with the damn thing.
I did what I could considering my limited technical know-ledge, unscrewed the top and checked that no wires were loose and that all valves fitted tightly which was very definitely my limit. I left Avila to keep trying and went and sat with my back against the wall beside Joanna Martin who was making coffee on a spirit stove
Sister Maria Teresa knelt at the altar in prayer. "Still at it, is she?" I said. "Faith unshaken."
Joanna gave me a cigarette and sat back, waiting for the water to boil. "What happened, Neil?"
