<h2 id="c10"><span class="small">CHAPTER X</span> <br/>The Barrier</h2>
<p>Night turned the Burmese jungle into a frightening
enemy. Towering trees, teak, acle, ironwood, shot
straight upward, so close packed and dense that they
blotted out the starlit sky.</p>
<p>Vines, some of them as thick as a man’s arm, were
forever stretching low across the boys’ path, as if trying
to hold them back from their bold venture.</p>
<p>What bothered Biff most of all was the sickening
smell of the jungle. Rotted vegetation gave off a rank,
stifling odor. Biff had been in the jungles of Brazil,
but they were nothing compared to the one he and
Chuba were forcing their way through.</p>
<p>During the two hours they had traveled in the waning
daylight, their progress had been swift. Chuba
knew the trails well. Sometimes, moving at a trot
several steps ahead of Biff, the native boy would seem
to be swallowed by hedges of low, thick brushwood.
But he would reappear, parting the thick growth so
that Biff could follow.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_71">71</div>
<p>Moving swiftly, silently, without talking, to conserve
their breath, Biff was suddenly startled. From
directly overhead came a chorus of angry screams.
Biff stopped and looked up.</p>
<p>“Only monkeys, Biff,” Chuba called back. “We
wake them from their sleep, and they no like. Come.”</p>
<p>Once again Chuba took up his steady pace. Thorny
bushes grabbed at Biff’s already tattered clothes. Ugly
scratches marked his legs. Most upsetting was the unexpected
change from dry land into dank, oozing
swampland. Chuba never stopped, or gave any warning
of what lay ahead. Time and again the native boy
plunged into a narrow stream. Once the water,
muddy, almost hot, came up to Biff’s waist. As he
neared the opposite bank, he halted a moment to look
back.</p>
<p>“Biff! Biff! Hurry! Out of the water!”</p>
<p>Biff leaped for the bank just as a partly submerged
log moved swiftly through the water to the spot
where he had been standing. As it reached the bank,
the “log’s” jaws opened, and Biff heard the chilling
sound of teeth gnashing together.</p>
<p>“Crocodile, Biff. Never stop in stream. Old croc
might be hungry.”</p>
<p>“If he likes mud-flavored boy, I’m his dish,” Biff
thought.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_72">72</div>
<div class="fig"> <ANTIMG src="images/p03.jpg" alt="" width-obs="500" height-obs="801" /> <p class="caption"><i>Biff heard the chilling sound of teeth gnashing together</i></p> </div>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_73">73</div>
<p>After traveling for six hours with only brief rest
breaks, the boys were bone weary. Biff figured it must
be midnight or a little after. They had reached a small
clearing, a circle about thirty feet across. Toward one
side a single ironwood tree rose high above the surrounding
underbrush.</p>
<p>“We stop here for the night,” Chuba said. “You
ever sleep in a tree?”</p>
<p>“Once. Didn’t find it very comfortable though. Do
we have to?”</p>
<p>“Is much better. This tree has nice big limbs. Find
good crotch, settle in it, and sleep real good. Too
many animals on the ground. Animals and insects. Big
ants, geckos, even wild pigs. You know gecko? Is big,
slimy lizard. Wild pigs don’t care who they eat. And
ants sting real bad. Much better in tree.”</p>
<p>Chuba stood at the base of the tree. “You give me
push up to first limb. Then I can give you my hand to
pull you up. Come on.”</p>
<p>Biff didn’t reply, or move. His eyes were intent on
a vine that hung down from one of the higher limbs.
It seemed to sway slightly. But there was no breeze.</p>
<p>“Back, Chuba! Back!” Biff shouted.</p>
<p>Chuba leaped backward. Biff, fascinated, watched
the “vine” stretch downward, then slither off the
branch and plunge downward.</p>
<p>“Python!” Chuba cried out.</p>
<p>“Yes. Python. I’ve seen them before. Not pythons
like that one, but boas. Boa constrictors of South
America. They’re of the same family.”</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_74">74</div>
<p>The boys now stood in the center of the circle. The
python, nearly twenty feet long, seemed to stare at
Biff and Chuba. Then it slowly slithered into the underbrush.</p>
<p>Biff looked at Chuba. The native boy lowered his
head. “Is Chuba’s mistake. Always, my father tell me
to be sure and check sleeping tree for python. Chuba
forget this time. If Biff not so alert, maybe python
now be around Chuba’s neck instead of deep in forest.”</p>
<p>“Any chance of its coming back? If it went up that
tree once, why shouldn’t it come up again? And with
us up there!”</p>
<p>“Oh, no. Once snake scared away, it not come back.
This Chuba knows. Python climb up tree to attack
enemies by dropping down. Never climb up to find
enemies.”</p>
<p>“Well, I just hope you’re right. Come on, let’s hop
into our upper berths.”</p>
<p>“Upper berths?” Chuba asked.</p>
<p>Biff explained, and the two boys climbed up the
tree to their sleeping quarters. Biff watched Chuba as
he nestled down on a stout limb forming a crotch with
the trunk of the tree. Chuba stretched out backward,
his legs on either side of the tree trunk. Biff did the
same. At first, the position was most uncomfortable.
Biff felt he had to keep his knees tightly pressed against
the tree trunk to keep from falling. Gradually, though,
he squirmed into a position where his legs dangled
down, each touching the trunk with just enough pressure
to keep him balanced.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_75">75</div>
<p>Some bed, Biff thought. Then, his body aching from
battling his way through the jungle, Biff slept.</p>
<p>Early in the morning, with the sun fighting to send
its rays through the dense jungle, Biff was awakened
by a call from just above him. Chuba was about five
limbs higher up.</p>
<p>“Good sleep, Biff?” Chuba called down.</p>
<p>Before answering, Biff tested his cramped arms and
legs. He was stiff all over. Sleeping in a tree might be
safe, but it certainly was no featherbed. He knew
though, that after half an hour in the hot, steamy jungle,
he would sweat all the stiffness out of his body.</p>
<p>“Guess so. I slept, anyway,” he called up to Chuba.</p>
<p>“Then we go down, and be on our way. We should
reach border in two more hours.”</p>
<p>The sun had brightened the circular opening below,
about the only spot where the sun’s rays could get
through. Biff heard Chuba scrambling down from
above him. Then he looked down and gasped. There
in the center of the circle, stretched out asleep, was the
most magnificent animal he had ever seen.</p>
<p>“Hold it up there, Chuba,” Biff said softly. The
scrambling stopped. “Can you see down through the
leaves?”</p>
<p>Chuba’s answering gasp told him that he could.</p>
<p>The animal below, enjoying a morning snooze, was
a tiger.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_76">76</div>
<p>Both boys held their breath, afraid that even the
slightest sound might awaken the sleeping beast. Moments
passed. Then, in a whisper, Biff asked, “What
do we do now?”</p>
<p>Chuba’s answering whisper came down through the
leaves. “We wait, Biff. All we can do. If we try to
scare him away, he get mad, wait for us to fall out of
tree and eat us.”</p>
<p>Chuba’s knowledge, Biff realized, was mixed up
with superstition and tales handed down from one
generation to another. Tigers, Biff knew, were man-eaters
only in certain circumstances. A wounded tiger
would attack a man. So would one so old that it could
no longer get its food easily. Then, man, less quick,
less nimble than the animals tigers usually fed on,
could well become the evening meal of a tiger.</p>
<p>Biff looked down at the sleeping animal. Its sleek,
glistening fur told him that this was a young tiger. Its
white furry underbelly was puffed out. That tiger had
had a good meal, Biff knew. Probably caught his
breakfast just before daylight, and now he was having
a nice nap in the sun.</p>
<p>“Is he still sleeping?” Chuba whispered.</p>
<p>“Like a baby after its morning bottle,” Biff whispered
back. Biff didn’t think the tiger would sleep too
long. Not as the morning sun rose higher, and its fiery
rays burned down on the opening. Once they hit Mr.
Tiger, the animal would move off to a shady spot and
complete his rest.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_77">77</div>
<p>As Biff watched the animal, the jungle suddenly
came alive with the screeching, cawing, and screaming
of hundreds of birds and animals.</p>
<p>The tiger sat up quickly. It rose to its feet, its long
tail switching back and forth. Then it opened its
mouth in a gaping yawn, showing glistening white
teeth and fangs. It turned its head from side to side,
looking to spot any danger.</p>
<p>“That noise from the monkeys,” Chuba called
down. “Or maybe wildcats. They chasing the parrots.
All very much mad at each other.”</p>
<p>“Good for them,” Biff called back. “They woke up
our friend down there. I think old tiger’s going to
move along.”</p>
<p>Biff watched the tiger. He saw it stretch, arching
its back very much like any tomcat. It slowly trotted
out of the clearing into the dense undergrowth.</p>
<p>“Tiger’s gone, Chuba. We’ll wait awhile, then let’s
take off from here fast.”</p>
<p>Biff had no way of counting the passing minutes. He
had left his watch back at Unhao. It would be a fatal
error, he knew, if a Chinese beggar boy were spotted
wearing a wrist watch. He forced himself to wait. He
wanted to be sure that the tiger was long gone to another
sleeping spot. The minutes went by as the
sounds of the jungle grew louder and louder. Crows
added their angry caws to the symphony of sounds
coming from herons, silver pheasants, and other birds.</p>
<p>“I think it’s safe now, Chuba. What do you think?”</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_78">78</div>
<p>Biff’s answer was the sound of Chuba scrambling
down from his perch.</p>
<p>“Okay, Biff, we go.”</p>
<p>The boys climbed down, dropping the final ten feet
to the ground. Chuba opened his bundle and took from
it two handfuls of cooked rice. They ate as they took
up their trek once again, scooping up a handful of
water from the first clear stream they came to.</p>
<p>After traveling an hour, by which time the sweat
was pouring off Biff’s body, soaking his ragged
clothes, Chuba stopped.</p>
<p>“We’re not far from border now, Biff. Maybe another
hour, maybe less, until we get there.”</p>
<p>“And where we cross there won’t be any border
guards?” Biff asked.</p>
<p>“Chuba doesn’t think so. Main road where guard always
patrols is south of here, almost a day’s walk.
Thus path we on leads to small, narrow river. River is
boundary between Burma and China. Where we cross
is a small clearing. River not deep there. Only up to
knees. Easy to get to other side.”</p>
<p>The other side was China. The thought sent a thrilling
chill through Biff’s body.</p>
<p>“We move with much quiet now,” Chuba said.
“Stay close together. Might be others at clearing. Not
guards, but maybe Chinese bandits. They use this
path too, when they fleeing Chinese soldiers.”</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_79">79</div>
<p>Biff and Chuba moved quickly but cautiously along
the trail. Every few yards, Chuba would stop, straining
to catch any unusual sound that might warn of
danger ahead. At every hidden turn in the path, Chuba
would crawl forward, then signal to Biff that all was
clear, to come ahead.</p>
<p>“We’re almost there now,” Chuba whispered.
“Around next bend in path, we come to clearing and
the river. Go slow now. Most careful.”</p>
<p>The boys seemed to move ahead by inches. They
neared the final bend. On reaching it, Chuba slipped
off the path, pressing his body behind a large palm
tree. Biff came up behind, looking over Chuba’s shoulder.
They craned their necks around the tree trunk until
the edge of the clearing came in sight.</p>
<p>“Looks like it’s all clear,” Biff said.</p>
<p>Chuba nodded his head. They left the protection of
the tree. Darting from one low bush to another, they
came to the edge of the opening. All was clear in the
opening on their side of the river. Then, raising their
heads, they looked across the thirty feet of water
separating them from China.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_80">80</div>
<p>Both drew back quickly. Two men, wearing
peaked, long-billed caps sat in the middle of the clearing
on the opposite bank. Red stars on the front of
their caps told the boys who they were. Not bandits,
not others seeking a safe passage from one country to
the other. These two men were members of the border
patrol. The two ugly, snub-nosed sub-machine
guns were further proof, if further proof was necessary.</p>
<p>Biff shot a quick look at Chuba. For the first time
Biff saw fear—stark terror—written on the native
boy’s face.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_81">81</div>
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