Biff was enjoying himself. If the object of their search hadn’t been such a serious one, if his feeling that the search might have an unhappy ending hadn’t been so strong, then the exploration would have been even more fun.
Martinique, Biff soon discovered, was truly a beautiful island, one of the most beautiful places in which he had ever been. From the top of steep ridges, the lush, fertile valleys of the island spread out below. Rugged peaks rose like steeples above the ridges.
In the rich valleys, they crossed through sugar-cane fields.
Biff took his knife and slashed a stock down. Its sweet juices oozed out of the slash. Biff pressed the stock to his lips and sucked deeply.
“Try one, Derek. Tastes good,” he said.
Banana trees grew wild almost everywhere they went. Derek shinned up the rough, fat trunk of one tree and yanked down a bunch. He squirreled back down the tree and plopped on the ground to inspect his haul. Derek’s hands were exploring the bunch, trying to select the ripest, fattest banana when Charlie Keene leaped to his side and struck the Dutch boy’s arm a sharp blow.
Derek looked around in amazed alarm.
Charles Keene was stamping on a hairy black spider. He had spotted the ugly insect on Derek’s shoulder and with one swift blow had knocked the spider to the ground.
“What’s the matter, Mr. Keene?” Derek looked frightened.
“Close call, Derek. That spider I just knocked off your arm is called matoutou falaise. That’s the local French name for the most poisonous spider on the island. They make their nests in bananas.”