Did you have too many Easter eggs today? Dreaming about that vacation you can't take yet? Want to get away from it all? We offer you escape. You are groping your way slowly through the dark hold of a ship at sea. Moving carefully, step by step. Searching intently for something you dread to find. Because you know that this ship carries a cargo of death. Escape, designed to free you from the four walls of today for a half hour of high adventure. Tonight, at your request, we bring back one of our most popular escape stories. We escape to a harbor front in Venezuela and a grim voyage which started from there. As told by Martin Storm in his gripping tale, a shipment of mute fate. The I stopped on the wharf at La Guara, looked up the gang flag toward the liner Chang K. Standing there quietly at her moorings. The day was warm under a bright tropic sun. The harbor beyond the ship lay drowsy and silent. But all at once in the midst of those peaceful surroundings a cold chill gripped me. And I shivered with sudden dread. Dread of the thing I was doing and was about to do. But too much had happened to turn back now. I had gone too far to stop. I set the box down on the edge of the wharf. Blazed it carefully so as to be in plain sight. And within gunshot of the captain's bridge. I knew what I was going to do. But I couldn't forget that a certain pair of beady eyes were watching every move I made. Eyes that never blinked and never closed just watched and waited. I turned and started up the gangplank. Oh, you startled me, sir. Why, it's Mr. Warner. Hello, Mother Willis. How's the best looking stewardess on the seven seas? Fine. I'm fine, Mr. Warner. I guess I'd better run along now. Get on with my chores. Now, wait a minute. That's a fine greeting after two months. It's just that I'm so busy. I don't believe a word of it. Sailing day's tomorrow. You're simply avoiding me, that's all. Oh, no, really, I'm not. And on the trip down from New York you said I was your favorite passenger. But I'm only in... Here, here. What's that you're carrying in your apron? Oh, it's nothing. Just supplies. Supplies? Let's have a look. No, please. It's a cat. It's Clara, Mr. Warner. Mr. Bowman said I had to leave her a show and I just couldn't. Who's Mr. Bowman? The new second mate. Clara's been aboard with me for two years and I just can't leave her here in a foreign country. Especially with... with her condition so delicate and all. Yes, I see. Well, I hope you get away with it. You won't tell anyone. Not a soul. As a matter of fact, if things don't work out right, we may both end up smuggling. Well, it's happy to have you aboard on the trip down two months ago, Christopher. And I'm very glad you're coming along with us on the run back to New York. Well, thanks, Captain Wood. There is one thing, though. I'm having a little trouble with the customs men here and I wanted to... I can't do it, Christopher. I just cabled your father this morning. Told him I'd have done it for you if I possibly could. He sent a request from New York, you know. Oh, yeah, I thought he would. I wired him from upriver last week. I hated to refuse, but it's absolutely out of the question. Captain Wood, I'm afraid I don't follow you. Responsibility to the passengers, son. We'll have women and children aboard. Not a liner. The safety of the passengers comes ahead of anything else. But with proper precautions... Something might happen. What? I don't know what, but something might. Carried worse things. There isn't anything worse. Any skipper afloat will bear me out. No, Christopher, I simply can't take the chance and that's final. Final. It wasn't final if I could do anything about it. I hadn't come down here to spend two months in that stinking back country... and then be stopped on the edge of the wharf. Two months of it. Heat, rain, insects, malaria. I'd gone clear in past the headwaters of the Orinoco. Traveled through country where every step along the jungle trail might be the last one. Sanchez! Si, senor. Better start looking for a place to camp. Be dark in a little while. Si, senor. Very soon we'll turn to river, camp on rocks by water. This very bad country. This very bad country. We've been saying that for ten days now. Very bad country. Si, senor. This very bad country. For all the luck we've had so far, it might as well be Central Park. Central Park? I don't understand. Never mind. What's the matter? Quiet now! Sanchez, what's wrong? Si, Bushmaster. Bushmaster. The deadliest snake in the world. Bushmaster. His Latin name was Laquesus Muton. Mute fate. It lay there in the center of the path a ten foot length of silent death. Coiled loosely in an undulant loop ready to strike violently at the least movement. Here was the one snake that would go after any animal that walked. Or any man. It lay there and watched us. Not moving. Not afraid. Ready for anything. A splotch of its color stood out like some horrible gaudy floor mat lying there on the brown background of the jungle. Waiting for someone to step on it. Here was what I'd come 2,000 miles for. A Bushmaster. The natives captured the snake and Sanchez brought it to me in a rubber bag. He was shaking so hard I thought for a moment the thing had struck him. One thing you make sure, senor Warner. No turn him loose in Venezuela. Because he know I the one who catch him. And he know where I live. Alright Sanchez I'll keep an eye on him. He also know you pay me to catch him. All the time he watch and wait. You know forget that senor Warner. Because he know forget. Not ever. Well after going through all that trouble and danger and laying out 1500 bucks. I wasn't gonna let a pig headed ship captain stop me at the last minute. At least not as long as the cables were still in operation between LaGuardia and New York. Well morning captain Wood. The boy at the hotel said you wanted to see me. That's right Christopher sit down. Thanks. Seems you weren't willing to let matters stand the way we left them yesterday. I'm sorry to go your head captain Wood but I had to. The museum sent me a long way to get that snake. I'm not gonna be stopped by red tape. This will be the only live Bushmaster ever brought to the United States. Yes if I had my way. Orders are orders. Got a cable from the head office this morning. All right Christopher suppose we talk about precautions. I'll handle it any way you say. It's got to have a stronger box that creates too flimsy. Well it's stronger than it looks. A wire screen on top would hold a wildcat. But anyway I bought a heavy seat just this morning we'll put the crate inside of it. Sounds all right. Got a lock on it. Yeah a heavy padlock. It's fixed so the lid can be propped open and cracked without unlocking it. Snakes got to have air. In dirty weather that lid has to stay shut. I'll take no chances. Fair enough. You'll keep the thing in my inside cabin where I sleep. You can't have it in the baggage room. And nobody on board is to know about it. Whatever you say Captain. We won't have any trouble after all. It's only an animal it doesn't have any magical powers. I saw a Bushmaster in the zoo at Caracas once. They had it in a glass cage with double walls. Never moved. Just lay there and looked at you as long as you were inside. Enough to give a man the creeps. You mean the Bushmaster at the Caracas Zoo? They don't now. They found the glass broken one morning and the snake gone. The night watchman dead. They never learned exactly what happened. Well a watchman must have broken the glass by accident in some way. The way they figured it the glass was broken from the inside. We sail in four hours. End of the Caribbean with perfect weather and a sea as smooth as an inland lake. The barometer dropped a little on the third day but cleared up overnight left nothing worse than a heavy swell. But in spite of the calm seas and pleasant weather I found myself feeling more and more often an ominous foreboding. I was developing an almost unnatural fear of that snake. To stay clear of the passengers pretty much got the habit of dropping into Captain Wood's quarters several times a day. Kept the heavy box underneath his berth. Approach it quietly and shine my flashlight through the open crack. Never once could I catch that twelve foot devil asleep or even excited. He'd be lying there half coiled his head raised a little. Staring out of those beady black eyes waiting. Still be like that when I turned away to leave. Maybe that's what bothered me. That horrible and constant watchful waiting. The name of heaven was he waiting for. Well hello there Mr. Warner. Oh how are you Mother Willis? My but you and the captain spend an awful lot of time around this cabin. I'm beginning to think the two of you must have some guilty secret. No no no no nothing like that Mother Willis. I don't know about Captain Wood but I certainly don't have any guilty secret. Well she's running quite a swell out there Mr. Balmond. It's a little heavy all right Mr. Warner. Guess the storm passed through to the west of us yesterday when the glass dropped. You think it missed us then huh? I guess that's what the mate figures. You stirred up some water though. This will put half the passengers in their bunks. It'll keep Mother Willis so busy. Hey look at the size of that wave. Great gee hoss effect we're going to take it on the fourth bow. Hang on. That was a freak if there ever was one. Not another wave that size in sight. Oh you see them like that sometimes even in a calm sea. I gotta get below Mr. Warner. That water probably did some real damage in the officer's deck. Yeah I see. What did you say? The wheel companionway was open on the fourth side. The bridge cabins must have taken a pretty bad smash in the head. I don't know what happened to the bridge cabins. I don't know what happened to the bridge cabins. I don't know what happened to the bridge cabins. I don't know what happened to the bridge cabins. I don't know what happened to the bridge cabins. The bridge cabins must have taken a pretty bad smash enough. They're right below the... Something wrong Mr. Warner? No. No. Nothing at all Mr. Bowman. At least I hope not. I didn't stop to find Captain Wood. Of course I know it was only one chance in a thousand. But the chances against that freak wave were one in a thousand too. I stumbled down the companionway and along the passage to the captain's cabin. Oh come in Mr. Warner. Mother Willis. My isn't this cabin a mess? Trying to get some of these things out to dry. Yeah well I just wanted to... Where's that box that was under the captain's bunk? Oh that? Well I just threw it out on the deck. What? Well the desk over there slid into it. It was all smashed. But the small box inside of it, what happened to it? Well they were both splintered Mr. Warner. Broke wide open. No. Well Mr. Warner you're quite as a sheet. Mother Willis. Go find Captain Wood. Tell him to come down here immediately. Well of course Mr. Warner. I'll go tell him right away. I can finish up here later. I pulled over the top drawer of the bureau inside. Took out the captain's flashlight and loaded pistol. Mother Willis had left a mop standing by the door. I put my foot on the head of it and snapped on the handle. Every move I made turned into slow motion. I could hear my own heartbeat. Slowly I started to search the cabin. Sodden heaps of clothing and furnishings were scattered around on the wet black floor. I punched at them one at a time. Holding the gun cocked. Flashlight pointing along the stick. Nothing. I worked around the room throwing the light into the dark corners. Back of the desk, under the bunk. Wherever I turned I could feel those cold unblinking eyes at my back. Watching. Waiting. Using this stick I pushed open the closet door and threw the light inside. Carefully I poked at the boxes and junk on the floor. Snake was not in the closet. Inch by inch I covered the entire cabin. And only then a horrible realization began to dawn on me. Captain Wood. Mother Willis just told me. Hello Christopher. It's happened. That's right it's happened. I see you found the gun we better start searching the cabin here. Captain Wood. I just finished searching. Oh then. Women, kids and that thing loose on board. A thousand places for it to hide. Heaven help us Christopher. I know you're starting to blame anybody now gentlemen. I didn't call you in here to pass judgement. The thing's done and that's that. Well you're right there Captain. What we have got to do is to make up our minds how we're going to handle it. And it'd be easier if we didn't have to tell the passengers and crew. I've seen panics aboard liners before. Yes I agree with you Mr. Bowman. But I don't quite see how we can avoid it. They've got a right to know. As long as that snake's loose everybody on board's in the same danger. And they all ought to know about it. Captain Wood that thing is 12 feet long it can't simply crawl into a crack. Why don't we make a quick search of the whole ship before we spread any alarm. I've thought of that Christopher. As far as I can see the only place it couldn't be is in the boilers or on top of the galley stove. It might have crawled overboard. We can't count on that. We've got to assume it's on the ship somewhere. Yeah and that could be anywhere. In a coil of rope on a deck chair or a fire bucket or in a pile of clothes. Yes or under some woman's berth or a baby's crib. You've already said it. Bushmaster could be anywhere. We've got to do something we've got to do it fast. All right. I think the best idea is to follow Mr. Warner's suggestion and make a quick search first. You agree to that? Right. And if we don't find it we'll have to warn the passengers. We've got to find it. Alone in the dim baggage room I went through the same movements as I had earlier in the captain's cabin. Gun in one hand, flashlight in the other. Poking into every dark corner. Behind every trunk and box. Since the baggage room was empty I could keep the gun cocked and ready. The rest of those poor devils were having to do the same thing. Bare handed. All over the ship the search went on. Here now Stuart, what on earth are you doing rummaging through my cabin? Just checking up ma'am. Well I'm quite sure there's nothing in here that has to be checked. Sorry ma'am, captain's orders will only take a few minutes. Well I never heard of such things. A passenger simply doesn't have any privacy at all. I've traveled on a lot of different lines but I still have never heard of anything... Sorry sir, I wonder if you mind moving over to the other rail. I'd like to look through these lockers. Sure, go ahead. What's the matter, you lost something? No, no, just looking things over. There's nothing in there but life preservers. Yeah, that's right. You must be getting ready to sink the boat. Gonna collect the insurance, huh? Gonna send us all to the bottom, huh? But not one of us could find that deadly shape. Coiled in some dark corner or outstretched along a window seat. Not one of us caught a glimpse of that horrid head with its beady black watchful eyes. The thing lay waiting out there somewhere along the decks. Shaded in the gathering dusk. But where? We didn't know. It was nearly dark when we met together again in the chart room. Well gentlemen, there's no other way around it. We've risked all the time we can. We've got to warn the passengers. How do we do it, Captain? Call them all together in the lounge? No, if we did anything like that, we'd be asking for a panic. We'll get one whether we ask for it or not. We pick a few men and go through the cabin decks. Tell them individually, inside the cabins. Watch for any that act like they might cause trouble. We'll keep an eye on them. Handle the crew the same way. Right, Captain. As soon as you're finished, arm all the deck officers and start searching again. Our only chance of preventing a riot is to find that damnable snake. The slow nightmare that followed grew worse by the hour. None of us slept. All the ship's officers not on duty kept on with that endless search. Passengers locked themselves in their cabins or huddled together in the lounges. Knowing all the time that no spot on board could be called safe. Fear was a heavy fog in the lungs of all of us. And every light on the vessel burned throughout the night. Morning came, brought no relief. Terror and tension mounted by the hour. There now, Mrs. Crane. Stop getting yourself all worked up and go back to your cabin. The horrid things probably crawled overboard anyway. Oh, you're just saying that. You're paid to say that. You don't know. Nobody knows. Now, now, everything's gonna be all right now. If only we could do something. If all of us could only get off the ship, they could fumigate it. Yes, that's it. We've got to. We've got to get off the ship. We've got to get off the ship. Wait. Wait. Mrs. Bowman, she's gonna jump. Grab her. Let me go. Let me go. Hold it out, lady. Nice work, Mrs. Bowman. Get her down to her cabin. Whatever you do, don't turn her loose. You never know when it might strike you. You can't put on a coat or move a chair without risking your life. Something's got to be done. It might be right here in this lounge. All right, Mrs. Bowman. Better quiet down and take it easy. Take it easy? You're a great officer. Why don't you do something about it? That thing might be crawling around here right under our feet somewhere. I said shut up. Are you trying to start a panic? I got a right to talk. I don't want to die. Nobody's gonna tell me what. Oh, oh. Oh, oh. Oh, oh. Oh, oh. Oh, oh. Oh, oh. Oh, oh. Oh, oh. Oh. The second night passed. Morning came around again. A gray and rainy day that dragged past. And the night came down again. Third night of the terror. Again, every light burned. The whole ship seeded in the throes of incipient panic. Faced by a horror they'd never met on the sea before, crew and officers alike were on the verge of revolt. Passengers sat huddled in the trance like stupor, ready to scream at the slightest unknown song. Seven bells I made my way forward to the chart room from Captain Wood bent over a desk. Oh, hello, Christopher. Come on in. Sit down. It's got to be somewhere, Captain Wood. It's got to be. I don't know. You can search the ship for six months and never touch all the places aboard. If we can only hold out for two more days, we'll be in. What's the home office say? Use the latest wireless from them. Keep quiet and keep coming. What else can we do? How is it on the decks? Pretty bad. Anything could happen. Yes, that's why I took the guns away from the men. One pistol shot and we'd have a riot on our hands. All things my fault, Captain Wood. That's what I can't forget. Take it easy, man. I thought there was only some way I could pay for it myself alone. No. I know how you feel. But it's no more your fault than mine or the man who asked you to bring that snake back alive. Nobody planned this. You'd better try to get a little sleep, boy. Sleep? Mr. Bowman made some coffee down in the stewards' galley a while ago. Why don't you go on down and get yourself a cup and then rest for a couple of hours? Rest? I can't rest. Christopher, it's not going to help anything if you stumble through a hatch half asleep and break your neck, is it? You go on and get some coffee. One way or another, we've got to hold out for two more days. The light was on in the stewards' galley. The coffee pot was standing on the stove. Still warm, so I didn't bother to heat it. Bored out a cup, carried it over and set it on the porcelain table top in the center of the room. I started to light a cigarette. The door of the pan cupboard beneath the sink was standing slightly ajar. I happened to glance toward it. I dropped the cigarette, moved slowly backward. I'd found the Bushmaster. As I moved, the snake slid out of the cupboard in a single, sinuous glide, drew back into a loose coil on the galley floor, never taking his eyes off me. I moved slowly back, waiting any moment for that deadly, slithering strike. How had he known it was me? He'd stayed quiet when Bowman was here. How had he picked the first time in five days that I was without a gun? My hands touched the bulkhead behind me and I stopped. Only then I realized and tell her what I'd done. The call button and the door were on the far side of the room. I'd backed into a dead end. I stared at the snake in fascination, expecting any moment the ripping slash of those poisoned fangs. The horrid coils tightened a little. Then was still again. Ten million years of evolution to produce this moment. Homo sapiens versus Laquesus muta, a man against mute bait. And all the odds were on bait. I knew then that I was going to die. I could feel the sweat run down between the painted walls and the palms of my hands pressing against it. My skin crawled and twitched and the pit of my stomach was as cold as ice. There was no sound but the rush of blood in my ears. The snake shifted again, drawing into a tighter coil, always tighter. Why didn't the devil get it over with? Then, just for an instant, his head veered away. Something moved over by the stove. I didn't dare turn to look at it. Slowly it moved out into my line of vision. It was a cat. That scrawny cat Clara that Mother Willis had sneaked to Fort LaGuaira. Its back was arched and every hair stood on end. It moved stiff-legged now, walking in a half circle around the snake. The Bushmaster moved slowly and kept watching the cat. He tightened. It was going to strike at any second. He struck and missed. The cat was barely out of reach. Now she was walking back and forth again. She was asking to die. Missed again by a fraction of an inch. He was striking now without even going to a full coil. Missed again and again, always missing by the barest margin. Each time the cat danced barely out of reach. Each time she countered with one precise spat of a dainty paw, bracing her skinny frame on three stiff legs. Then suddenly I realized what she was doing. The Bushmaster was tired. One strike was just an instant slow, but in that split second sharp claws raked across the evil head and ripped out both the lidless eyes. The cat had deliberately blinded the snake. He didn't bother to coil now, but slid after her in a fury, striking wildly and rapidly, always missing. And every strike was a little slower than the last one until finally... As the snake's neck stretched out at the end of the strike, the cat made one leap and sank her razor sharp teeth just back of the ugly head. Sank her until they crushed bone. Tooth and claw she clung as the monstrous snake flailed and lashed on the floor, striving to get those hideous coils around her, trying to break her whole to shake off the claw and certain paralyzing death that gradually crept over him. And at last stilled his struggles forever. I took a deep breath, the first in minutes. The cat lay on her side on the floor, panting, resting from the fight just over. She had a right to rest. That mangy, brave, beautiful alley cat had just saved my life. And maybe others as well. But as I turned toward the stove, I suddenly became very humble. And I knew all at once what a small thing a human being really is. I and others aboard were still alive only by the merest accident. There were three reasons why that cat had fought and killed the world's deadliest snake. And those three reasons came tottering out from under the stove on shaky little legs. Three kittens with their eyes bright with wonder and their tails stiff as pokers. Up on the decks, hundreds of passengers were waiting for the news that the days and nights of terror were ended. They could wait a little longer. I pulled open the doors of the cabinet, found a can of milk. Then I dropped down on my knees on the floor of the galley. Escape is produced and directed by Norman MacDonald. And tonight brought to you A Shipment of Mute Fate by Martin Storm. Adapted for radio by Les Crutchfield. Featuring Harry Bartel as Chris Warner, Barry Kroger as Captain Wood, and Peggy Webber as Mother Willis. With Don Diamond, Sarah Selby, and Frank Gerstel. Special effects by David Light. The musical score was conducted by Wilbur Hatch. Next week. You are hanging by your fingertips on the sheer face of an ice cliff. Suspended 2,000 feet above instant death with your strength running out and with no chance for escape. Next week, Escape with C.E. Montague's exciting story, Action. Good night then until the same time next week when CBS again offers you Escape. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.
