I shook the ashes onto the floor, put the sparks out with my heel and shoved the pipe back into my pocket. There I sat, as quiet as a mouse, hoping the panic would somehow abate. Then the pilot poked his head in. I felt hopeful: after all he must have been in worse) predicaments he ought to calm them down. Instead, the pilot lost his head himself.
   I saw him blanch, gasp and clutch at some lever or other. There was a bang and then the roar of the engines stopped and all we could hear was the wind whistling outside. There was a plop above us, the salon jerked and then floated smoothly.
   The other passengers were at their wits' ends, but I had already tumbled to it. Today every schoolboy knows about the catapult by means of which the pilot saves himself in an extremity. But in those days it was the latest gadget which was called "Go thee down." In the case of an explosion, fire or some other disaster on board the plane, say if a wing fell away, the pilot pulled the lever, which separated the cabin from the rest of the aircraft, and it was parachuted down. A very useful contraption no doubt, but in our case its application was obviously premature.
   It was pointless to object or argue: the plane had gone on its course, while our cabin was floating slowly down. The smoke had almost dispersed, but the passengers were not in the least reassured. On the contrary, feelings were running very high, and even Fooks felt jerky. Any moment I could expect him to jump up and pull the mackintosh off me. I was the only one to keep my head.
   Of course the flight had been interrupted and the ticket invalidated, but still I did not like the idea of everybody's attention focussing on me, of providing explanations and perhaps even trying to deny the charges of causing the entire unpleasantness. I did not relish the role of the accused and so decided to take advantage of the commotion to pass myself off for an outsider. The moment was very propitious: the passengers were frantic, some had even swooned, and the emergency exit was right above us in the ceiling.
   Have you ever swum in the Amazon, young man? You haven't? And don't you try it. I assure you it's not worth the thrill. I know, because I've tasted the doubtful pleasure.
   Fooks and I scrambled out through the emergency exit and took our bearings. Underneath us was a river, and in a few seconds the cabin plopped right in the middle of it.
   I bent over the hatch and shouted inside:
   "Welcome to the Amazon, ladies and gentlemen! Pleased to greet you in these wild and inaccessible parts."
   The passengers began to climb out one after another. Seeing there was no immediate danger, they calmed down somewhat and centred their attention on Fooks and me. I saw I had to introduce myself. Since I could not tell them the truth, I had to invent a plausible story.
   "Allow me to introduce myself: Professor of geography Christopher Wrungel, on a scientific expedition in central South America. This is my servant and guide Fooks, a local Indian. I've been here quite a while and am used to the locality. Allow me to consider you my guests."
"Of course," they chorussed. "With pleasure."
   But I could see they did not put much faith in my words: some professor, indeed, wearing nothing but shorts. I felt I had to give them other food for thought, so I asked: "Are you all here?"
They glanced round and one passenger said, "No, there was also a tall gentleman."
   "That's right," another confirmed, "a tall gentleman who went on fire."
   "Is that so?" I asked. "Go down into the cabin, Fooks, and see if he is there and if he needs medical aid."
   Several minutes later Fooks was out, handing me a pinch of ashes-that was all that was left of the tall gentleman, if you please.
   "Oh," I said, "how terribly sad. The tall gentleman seems to have burnt to a cinder. Well, may the Lord God rest his soul... Now, ladies and gentlemen, let us pull the parachute in, it will come in handy yet."
   We each took a shroud line and started pulling. I gave commands: "Heave ho, all together!"   
   Somehow the parachute did not seem to be coming any nearer, though they all did their best. Suddenly I saw them drop theinshroudyines and runlaft.Iso to speak, pressing close together and trembling with fear. As for Fooks, he dived head first into the hatch, then peered out of there and pointed a trembling finger towards the parachute. And our one lady passenger stood on tiptoe, spread out her fingers, waved her arms, as though she was trying to fly up and screamed.
   I looked round, and all but screamed myself. In the parachute I saw a huge anaconda, no less than thirty metres in length. It lay there curled up and looked us over appraisingly, as though trying to decide which was the juciest morsel.
   And I had no weapon except for the pipe in my teeth.
   "Fooks!" I shouted, "give me something heavy!" Fooks handed me some kind of missile, quite alhefty one. "Hustle up some more!" I shouted and aimed me missile. The anaconda seemed to be aiming as well. He opened his cave-like maw, and I threw my missile right into it.