THE NAUTICAL charts did not show much detail for the interior of Celebes, but from our elevation we could see enough of the terrain to guide Kazu quite well. The course which Baker plotted took us across the northern part of the big island, and far enough inland to avoid easy detection from the sea. As the day progressed, the sky gradually filled with clouds, promising more rain, so that I doubt if many people saw us. Those who did, I suspect, were more interested in taking cover than in interfering with Kazu's progress.
The journey across Celebes took only a couple of hours, and so, by noon, we stood on the shore of the strait of Macassar, looking across seventy-five miles of blue water to the mountains of Borneo.
It was not until now that Baker explained what he had in mind in choosing this particular route.
"We're going to Singapore," he said. "Get under the protection of the Royal Navy and Air Force before the commies spot us and start dropping bombs and rockets. If Buddha wants to see the world, he'd better start by getting a good bodyguard."
Kazu seemed agreeable when appraised of this plan, and so we began to plot a more detailed route over the 1,100 miles between us and the British crown colony. We stood at the narrowest part of the strait, but unfortunately most of it was too deep for Kazu to wade. Reference to the charts showed that by going 250 miles south, we would reduce the swim to about 30 miles, or the equivalent of some 500 yards for a normal man. To this was added a wade of 120 miles through shallows and over the many small Balabalagan Islands.
Suddenly Kazu's hand swept down and came up with a 60-foot whale, which he devoured in great gory bites. After this midocean lunch, Kazu resumed his wading. In the middle of the strait the depth exceeded five thousand feet, and he had to swim for a time, after fastening our box to his head by means of the trailing cables.
At length the sea became shallow once more, Kazu's feet crunched through coral, and the coast of Borneo appeared dimly ahead. We were all taking time for the luxury of a sigh of relief when Chamberlin screamed a warning.
"Planes! Coming in low at three o'clock!"
Fortunately Kazu heard this also, although the language confused him. Precious seconds were wasted while he held the box up to his face for more explicit directions. The planes, a flight of six, were streaking towards us just above the wavetops. We could see that they carried torpedoes, and it was not difficult to guess their intentions.