<h2 id="c11"><span class="small">CHAPTER XI</span> <br/>Inside China</h2>
<p>Biff placed a hand on his friend’s arm. Why, Chuba
was trembling! The realization of Chuba’s fear of the
border patrol was startling to Biff. Chuba showed no
such fear in the jungle. He wasn’t afraid of crocodiles,
snakes, or tigers. He respected them as man’s natural
enemies.</p>
<p>But now, confronted with the border guard, Chuba
was near panic. Biff thought back to Chuba’s talk
about how easy it was to cross the border, how he said
he’d crossed several times. When they were discussing
this dangerous trip, Chuba had practically brushed the
guards aside as no problem. But the fear must have
been there, just the same. Chuba was a good actor. Biff
realized just how much courage it must have taken on
Chuba’s part to agree to guide him into China. He
gripped the native boy’s arm in friendship and to reassure
him.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_82">82</div>
<p>“Take it easy, Chuba. We’re all right. But let’s cut
back down the trail and figure out what we can do.”
Biff flashed a smile at Chuba and signaled the direction
he meant to take. Chuba followed close on his heels
like a puppy.</p>
<p>After retracing their steps for about one hundred
yards down the path, the boys ducked off the trail and
found a hiding place behind a thick clump of bushes.</p>
<p>For a few moments Biff talked quietly. He talked
about Indianapolis, his home, about the United States.
He talked about anything that came into his head. He
wanted to calm Chuba down. “American talk,” he
thought, would do the trick since it was Chuba’s favorite
subject. Soon a weak smile came over Chuba’s
face. “I’m sorry, Biff,” he apologized. “I’m sorry I act
like chicken.”</p>
<p>“That’s okay, Chuba. I’d have been scared, too, if I
knew as much about the border guard as you do.”</p>
<p>“I hear many things. All bad.”</p>
<p>“Tell me honestly, Chuba. You said you’ve crossed
over several times. Have you, really?”</p>
<p>“Yes, Biff. Chuba not lie. Only,” he paused, “never
any border guard around when Chuba slip over before.”</p>
<p>“I see. Well, what do we do about it? You think the
guard will stay there all day?”</p>
<p>“Can’t tell. Much likely they will stay long time.”</p>
<p>“I suppose so,” Biff said. He thought a minute. “It
might be that there’s been a lot of slipping across the
border here lately, and these guards have been assigned
to stop it.”</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_83">83</div>
<p>“I think you right, Biff.”</p>
<p>Neither spoke for several minutes. Both were trying
to figure a way out of the spot they found themselves
in.</p>
<p>“How about this, Chuba? Couldn’t we either go up
the river a couple hundred yards or more, or down
the river and slip across?”</p>
<p>Chuba shook his head. “No, Biff. River narrow, run
very quick on both sides of the clearing. Too deep.
Jungle grow real thick and fierce right to water’s
edge. Can’t get through.”</p>
<p>“Well, we’ve just got to get across somehow. We’re
losing time.” As Biff spoke, another thought was building
in his head.</p>
<p>“Now let me ask you this, Chuba. See if you think
this plan might work. Supposing I cut off the trail
about a hundred feet from the clearing. I’ll make my
way through the underbrush to a spot say seventy-five
feet away from the trail. You go hide behind that
tree where we first spotted the guard. You follow
me?”</p>
<p>“Okay so far.”</p>
<p>“Right. Then I’ll yell like a Comanche. That ought
to distract the guard. They’ll try to find who’s making
the noise. If they leave the clearing, you can slip
across the river.”</p>
<p>“Good idea, Biff. But how about you? How you
going to get across?”</p>
<p>“Same way. Only this time <i>you</i> do the distracting.
You yell like a Comanche.”</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_84">84</div>
<p>Chuba grinned. “Could work. But how does Comanche
bird yell?”</p>
<p>Biff decided to postpone his lecture on TV westerns
until another time. “Don’t worry about it. Just yell
like I do. We’ve got to try it. It’s our only chance.
Now, if you get across all right, wait. Wait a good
long time. By then, the guards will probably give up
the search and return to their post in the clearing. I
don’t imagine they like prowling around the jungle
too much.”</p>
<p>“No, too many wild animals.”</p>
<p>“Okay. So, you’d better make your way a good
distance from the clearing. Say you go to a place
about a hundred yards opposite the river—downriver—so
I’ll know where to listen for you. You’re going
to be on the same side as the guards, so be sure you’re
in a safe place and can make a fast getaway if they
should come anywhere near you.”</p>
<p>“Don’t worry about that. Chuba can hide good in
jungle.”</p>
<p>“All right, let’s get moving.” But neither moved for
a few minutes. Both boys were reluctant to part company.
They knew the danger lying before them. They
might never see one another again, if Biff’s plan failed.</p>
<p>“Now, where will we meet?” Biff asked.</p>
<p>“You just keep running down path after you cross
river. Get as far as you can. Then find good hiding
place. When I know guard has gone back to clearing,
I’ll move along trail making sound like a crow. Like
this.”</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_85">85</div>
<p>Chuba let out a soft “caw, caw.” It was an exact
imitation. Chuba wouldn’t have any trouble being a
“Comanche bird,” either, Biff thought.</p>
<p>“Good. I’m off.” Biff pushed his way into the underbrush.
It was tough going. The low, dense vegetation
tore at him. Vines dropped like heavy curtains
from the tall trees hiding whatever lay ahead. It was
steaming hot. Biff wrestled the jungle growth, sweat
streaming down his face and body. It must have taken
him nearly half an hour to penetrate a distance of
about 75 or 100 feet.</p>
<p>Chuba could hear Biff making his way through the
brush. At first, he didn’t move. He knew he had to go
back to the clearing, but the thought was frightening.
It took all his courage to force himself back up the
path. But he knew that if he didn’t, he would let his
friend down. Biff’s plan depended on Chuba’s being at
the clearing at the right moment. Yet, if the plan misfired—Chuba
shuddered.</p>
<p>Back at the edge of the clearing, Chuba crawled on
his stomach to where the low growth stopped. Carefully
he parted the bush he lay behind. The peephole
allowed him a full view of the clearing.</p>
<p>They were still there. The two guards squatted on
their haunches. One was munching some food. The
other braced himself by holding onto the barrel of his
sub-machine gun, the gun’s butt resting on the ground.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_86">86</div>
<p>Chuba inched backward. He took up his position
behind the tree. Biff’s yelling could come any moment
now. What would the guards do? Would they come
charging across the stream to do their searching?
Chuba didn’t think so. If they did, then they would be
crossing the border illegally, although Chuba knew
that often the guards paid scant attention to this regulation.</p>
<p>What if only one guard took up the search, the
other remaining behind to guard the clearing? One
good thing, Chuba knew, was that from the direction
Biff had taken, it might appear that the yelling came
from the same side of the river that the guards were
on. There was a sharp turn in the stream about thirty
feet to the west of the clearing. If Biff made his way
toward the riverbank, he might actually be behind the
guards, but still on the side opposite from them.</p>
<p>“Eeeeee-owieeeee!”</p>
<p>The sharp, piercing scream rose above the constant
chattering of the monkeys, the shrill calls of jungle
birds. For a moment, the jungle became silent. The
monkeys and birds were as startled as the two guards.
So <i>that</i> was American bird yell! “Much wow!” Chuba
was impressed.</p>
<p>Chuba, moving slightly forward, saw the guards
leap to their feet. They looked about them quickly.
Both released the safety catches on their weapons.
They raised their guns to firing position.</p>
<p>“Eeeee-owieeeee!” Again the wild cry blasted
through the jungle.</p>
<p>The guards turned in the direction the cry came
from.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_87">87</div>
<p>“Yow! Yow! Yow! Yow!”</p>
<p>The series of short cries came in rapid succession.</p>
<p>The jungle had never heard a sound like it. It could
only come from a human being. One of the guards
motioned in the direction of the cries. Then he started
toward the spot. The other guard held back, until his
companion turned and spoke to him in an angry voice.
The two plunged into the undergrowth.</p>
<p>Now was his chance. With his heart pounding, fear
tightening his throat muscles, Chuba made his dash. He
was in mid-stream when once more Biff let out a series
of short cries, followed by a long “Eeeee-owieeee!”</p>
<p>A good thing he did, too. His shouting drowned out
the splashes made by Chuba as he raced through the
water which tugged at his legs. Now Chuba had
reached the opposite shore. He tore down the trail,
his lungs bursting from his effort.</p>
<p>When he felt the guards were well behind him,
Chuba cut off to the left of the trail, spotted a hiding
place, and dived under the sprawling bush. He lay
there gasping for breath.</p>
<p>How long he lay there, Chuba had no way of telling.
Finally, he forced himself to his feet. Biff might
already be at the tree, waiting for Chuba to take over
his part in the action.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_88">88</div>
<p>Chuba moved along the path back toward the river.
He moved cautiously, silently, making no more noise
than a big cat stalking its prey. When he neared the
clearing, Chuba went down to his hands and knees.
Taking advantage of the cover offered by the low
bushes, he crept forward. Again carefully parting a
heavy bush, he looked into the clearing.</p>
<p>The guards had returned. They were talking rapidly
to one another. Chuba couldn’t make out their words,
but he felt sure they were talking about the strange
cry they had heard. They were probably frightened
by it, and at this thought, Chuba smiled. He felt a lot
better now. He had made it over the border. But even
as he had this thought, he remembered Biff. Biff had
to get across. Only half the job was done.</p>
<p>Biff would surely be back at the tree by now. Time
for more action. A frown of doubt crossed Chuba’s
face. Would the guard be fooled a second time?</p>
<p>Chuba went ahead with the plan. He walked back
up the trail for one hundred paces. Then he slithered
into the underbrush, crawling, forcing his way
through the wall of thick, spiny growth.</p>
<p>If he, Chuba, made the same kind of noise Biff had
made, wouldn’t the guards’ suspicions be aroused? Already
they would be tense, nervous. They hadn’t
found anything the first time. Wouldn’t they just ignore
a second set of strange “Yows” and “Eeeee-owieeees?”
Chuba felt sure they would. So what could he
do? He just had to help Biff cross. Okay, he knew
what he would do. He could outsmart the guard in
the denseness of the jungle. They would never be able
to catch him.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_89">89</div>
<p>Chuba reached a position he thought would do. It
was near the spot he and Biff had discussed, as far as
he could figure. He took a deep breath, then, shouting
in Chinese, he called out, “Help! Help! Strange man
here! Strange man! Help! Help!”</p>
<p>He waited. Moments passed. He repeated his call
for help. Seconds later, he heard the crashing of the
guards as they fought through the underbrush.</p>
<p>Chuba waited no longer. He got himself away from
the spot where he had called out as fast as he could
wriggle his body along. He knew he had made a safe
getaway when he could no longer hear the guards
struggling against the brush. Chuba smiled to himself.
He knew he was only about fifty feet from the trail.
He sat down. He would wait, a long wait this time, to
make sure the guard had gotten back to the clearing,
and that Biff had had plenty of time to put a good
distance between himself and the river.</p>
<p>Chuba leaned back against the base of a tree. He
felt good about the way things had gone.</p>
<p>Suddenly, the noises of the jungle were drowned
out by the most horrible noise of all—the angry, “<i>bup</i>,
<i>bup</i>, <i>bup</i>” of a sub-machine gun’s fire. First there was
a short burst. Another short burst. This was followed
by a longer burst as several rounds were fired. Then,
silence.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_90">90</div>
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