Free Explosive Adventures by Alexander McCall Smith

errand.
    As they got closer to the trees, they heard a sound which made their blood run cold. It was the sound of an axe chopping away at wood.
    “Listen to that,” said Billy angrily. “That’s a tree being cut down.”
    “I know,” said Mr Gopal. “What a terrible waste of a bubblegum tree. A hundred years being thrown away – just like that.”
    They followed the sound and in a few minutes, as they rounded a bend in the path, they heard a voice shout out ahead of them.
    “Timber!” it yelled. “Down it comes!”
    Billy and Mr Gopal stopped short. A giant tree was coming down – but wherewould it land? Suddenly, there was a great crashing sound, and the sky above them seemed for a moment to be blotted out by a canopy of leaves and branches.
    “Mr Gopal!” shouted Billy. “Run!”
    Mr Gopal was confused, but Billy grabbed him by the shirtsleeve and tugged him off the path. He was just in time, for had he not done so, Mr Gopal would have been crushed by the great tree as it fell.
    “Thank you,” said Mr Gopal, wiping his brow. “That was a very close shave. If you hadn’t pulled me away like that …”
    He did not finish the sentence. Angry voices could now be heard, and within a few moments the two of them foundthemselves surrounded by men with axes in their hands and red handkerchiefs tied round their foreheads.
    “What are you doing here?” snapped the tallest of the men. “You could have got yourself killed then! You should keep away from logging, you know!”
    “I’m very sorry,” said Mr Gopal. “But my young friend here and I are on a very important mission. We certainly didn’t want to disturb you.”
    The polite tone of Mr Gopal’s words seemed to make the man a bit calmer, and when he next spoke he sounded less angry.
    “Well, just watch out in future,” he said. “What do you want, anyway?”

    Mr Gopal glanced at Billy, who now stepped forward to speak.
    “Mr Gopal here is a famous photographer,” he said. “And we have come from a very long way away to photograph some animals which we have been told are to be found in this part of the jungle.That is why we are here.”
    The man looked at Billy and sneered. “Well, you’re wasting your time,” he said. “There’s nothing of any interest in this jungle.”
    “Except for tigers,” said Billy quickly.
    “What did you say?” said the man sharply.
    “Tigers,” said Billy. “Big tigers. They’re very fierce, these ones, we believe – and very rare.”
    This was the signal for all the men to burst out laughing.
    “What nonsense,” said one of them. “There are no tigers here! There aren’t any tigers for miles. We should know.”
    “But you must be wrong,” said Billy. “We’ve been told that they’re here, and in fact we’ve already seen one, haven’t we, Mr Gopal?”
    Mr Gopal nodded energetically. “Yes. We saw a terribly big one only this morning. It was drinking from the river and I got a very good shot of it with my camera. I wish I could show you the picture, but it’s not been developed yet.”
    The men stopped laughing. Billy noticed that one or two of them exchanged rather nervous glances.
    “And what else have you heard about these tigers?” said their leader,mockingly. “Have you heard that they ride bicycles and eat bananas?”
    Billy smiled. “No,” he said. “Nobody has said anything about that. But we have been told that they’re man-eaters.”
    As he spoke everybody became quite silent. The leader of the loggers stared at Billy, and Billy could see that there were tiny little drops of sweat forming on his forehead, just below his red handkerchief.
    “Did you say man-eaters?”
    “Yes,” said Billy. “We heard that they ate ten men further down the river. It was terrible. Only their hats were left.”
    The loggers looked at one another again, and Billy decided it was time to go.
    “Well,” he said. “We mustn’t keep you from your work. You’ve still got lots of those trees to