“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.”
The other side was China. The thought sent a thrilling chill through Biff’s body.
“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.”
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.
“We’re almost there now,” Chuba whispered. “Around next bend in path, we come to clearing and the river. Go slow now. Most careful.”
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.
“Looks like it’s all clear,” Biff said.
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.
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.
Biff shot a quick look at Chuba. For the first time Biff saw fear—stark terror—written on the native boy’s face.