By W. E. Johns
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Extra resources for Biggles Gets His Men
If we were sure that the lake is situated in China, or Manchuria, then it wouldn't matter overmuch; but if it happens to be in eastern Siberia, which is Russian territory—well, that might be a horse of a very different colour. And it isn't as though the point could be settled with any degree of certainty, because the boundaries are still a matter of dispute—not that there are any boundary posts, or anything like that. No one can say where Chinese, Russian, or Mongolian spheres of influence begin and end.
There's no reason why that shouldn't be done to-day—right away, in fact. I shall do it, taking Ginger with me. The rest will stay here, get the place shipshape and watch for any movement on the mainland. You'd better know exactly what I intend to do, in case things come unstuck. The supposed position of the kidnappers' dump is about thirty miles due east from us. When I take off I shall head north, to make a wide detour before swinging round to approach the objective from behind; so, as I pass over it.
I doubt if a dozen Europeans have seen it. In fact, as far as I know, the only people who have been right across the territory were a few White Russian refugees after the Bolshevik revolution. I went ostensibly on a hunting trip, but my real purpose—as it was part of my job—was to see just what went on there, to check up on the strange rumours that occasionally trickled through to the outside world. Actually, I spent most of my time trying to get out again. Like you, I've been around a bit, and I've travelled over most of China, but this area was unlike anything I'd seen before, or have seen since.