THE WHITE DJINN
It was half-past six by Smith's watch, near eleven by local time, when
the aeroplane sailed across the long mangrove swamp that forms the
western side of the harbour of Karachi. The sun was intensely fierce,
and Smith, who found its glare affecting his eyes painfully, had
donned a pair of huge blue-glass goggles. He was glad that he had done
so when, passing over the crowded shipping of the port, he saw the
sandy arid tracts around and beyond the town. Steamers hooted as the
aeroplane flew above them; half-naked coolies lading the vessels with
wheat and cotton, the produce of Sindh and the Punjab, dropped their
loads and stared upwards in stupefied amazement. Smith could not wait
to enjoy his first view of an Indian city. His business was to land at
the first convenient place and find Mr. John Jenkinson, whose godown
was near the Custom House, and obtain from him the petrol bespoken by
Mr. Barracombe.
Being in complete ignorance where the Custom House lay, though he
guessed it would be somewhere near the seafront, he was at first at a
loss in which direction to make. There was no suitable landing-place
in the crowded city itself, and to the immediate south of it there
appeared to be nothing but mangrove swamps. Ascending to a
considerable height, however, he saw, some distance to the east, near
a railway line, a stretch of open brownish ground on which little red
flags stood up at intervals. He instantly jumped to the conclusion
that this was the golf course, though at this time of day there were
no players to confirm his judgment. This was an advantage, because it
promised that he might land without being beset by curious spectators.
Accordingly he steered in that direction, hoping that having safely
landed his aeroplane he might find some means of reaching the merchant
whose name Mr. Barracombe had cabled to him.
It happened that, just as the aeroplane swooped down upon the golf
course, an open vehicle like a victoria was driving slowly along a
road that crossed it from the railway towards the city. The turbaned
driver pulled up his horse and stared open-mouthed at this
extraordinary apparition from the sky, and when the aeroplane
alighted, and from the car stepped a tall, dirty creature with a
monstrously ugly face, the native whipped up his horse and with
shrill cries sought to escape the clutches of what he felt in his
trembling soul must be a djinn of the most evil kind.
Smith shouted to him to stop, but in vain; whereupon he picked up his
heels and ran to overtake the carriage. The horse was a sorry
specimen, and Smith, being a very passable sprinter, soon came up with
it, jumped in, and called to the driver to take him to Mr. Jenkinson's
godown. The man yelled with fear, and in sheer panic flogged his horse
until it went at a gallop, the vehicle swaying in a manner that any
one but a sailor would have found unpleasant. Both horse and driver
seemed to be equally affected with terror, but since the carriage was
going towards the city Smith was perfectly well satisfied, and did not
turn a hair even when it narrowly escaped a collision with a
bullock-wagon.
On they went, past some buildings on the right which appeared to be
barracks, until they reached a street in which there were so many
people that Smith thought it time to pull up before mischief was done.
Leaning forward, he gripped the driver's dhoti and drew him slowly
backward. The man yelled again; the passers-by stood in wonderment;
but with his backward movement the driver tightened his grip on the
reins, and within a few yards the panting horse came to a standstill.
"Where is Mr. Jenkinson's godown?" said Smith, releasing the driver.
But the man's terror was too much for him. Throwing the reins on the
horse's back, he sprang from his seat and fled, a vision of bare brown
legs twinkling amid white cotton drapery.
By this time a crowd of chattering natives had gathered round, who,
not having seen the aeroplane, were more amazed at the driver's
evident terror than at the passenger. He was dirty, it is true, and
not clad like the sahibs whom they were accustomed to meet, but when
he had removed his goggles they saw that he was certainly a sahib.
Smith was about to ask some one to direct him to Mr. Jenkinson's when
a native policeman pushed his way through the crowd, and in a shrill,
high-pitched voice and wonderful English, announced that he had come
to take the number of the carriage; it was clearly a case of furious
driving to the danger of the public.
"Shut up!" said Smith impatiently. "Find me a driver to take me to
Jenkinson sahib."
"Certainly, your honor," said the man, becoming deferential at once.
One of the bystanders, seeing the chance of earning a few pice,
volunteered to drive.
"Jenkinson sahib? all right, sahib; down by Custom House. You bet!"
The carriage rolled off, followed by a crowd of runners, eager out of
pure inquisitiveness to see the matter through. They passed Government
House, turned into dusty Macleod Road, and in five or six minutes
reached the Custom House, where, turning to the left for a short
distance along the Napier Mole, the driver pulled up at a wooden
godown, and said--
"Here we are again, sahib. Jenkinson sahib, all right."
Smith ordered the man to wait for him, and went into the godown. Here
he met with a disappointment. In answer to his inquiry the native
clerk, looking at him curiously, said that Mr. Jenkinson was not
there, was not even in Karachi.
At this Smith looked blank.
"Your name, sir, is Lieutenant Smith?" said the clerk politely, but
with an air of doubt.
"It is."
"Then I tell you what, sir. Cable came yesterday for Mr. Jenkinson. I
wired it, instanter, as per instructions, to esteemed employer at
Mahableshwar, where he recuperates exhausted energies. Reply just
come. Here you are: 'Refer Lieutenant Smith Mr. Macdonald. Regret
absence.' Mr. Macdonald, sir, little way off. I have honour to escort
you: do proper thing."
He conducted Smith some distance down the Mole, the carriage
following. Luckily Mr. Macdonald had not returned to his bungalow for
tiffin, but was napping in a little room behind his office, darkened
by close trellises, which are found necessary for keeping out the
clouds of sand blown up from the shore.
"Eh, what?" said Mr. Macdonald, when his clerk awakened him. "A
visitor this time of day? Well, show him in."
He let a little light into the room, and stared when Smith was
introduced. Smith was dripping with perspiration, and not having been
able to wash since leaving London, he felt that his appearance must
give a fellow-countryman something of a shock.
"What do ye want, man?" asked Mr. Macdonald, somewhat testily.
"Mr. Jenkinson referred me to you, sir--"
"I have no vacancies, none whatever, and--"
"My name is Lieutenant Smith, of His Majesty's navy, and I have just
arrived from England."
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Smith; I took ye for--well, I don't know what.
Take a wee drappie? You came by the _Peninsular_, no doubt. I hear she
came in this morning."
"No. I came by aeroplane."
The Scotsman stared.
"What's that ye were saying?"
"By aeroplane. The fact is, Mr. Macdonald, I'm in a hurry. I've got to
get off within an hour or so; and I want some petrol for my engine.
Mr. Jenkinson was to have arranged it for me, but being absent he
refers me to you, and I shall be immensely obliged if you can manage
it for me, and excuse my not entering into particulars, for which I
really haven't time."
"Is that a fact? Petrol, is it? Come away with me; only, upon my word,
sir, I will take it very kind if you will give me a few particklers of
this astonishing business as we go."
He put on a sun helmet, and led the way from the room. Jumping into
the victoria, he ordered the temporary coachman to drive to Harris
Road, a quarter of a mile beyond the Custom House. In the two minutes
occupied by the drive, Smith told the Scotsman merely that he had come
from Constantinople and was proceeding immediately to Penang on
important business.
"It took ye a week, I suppose?"
"No, I left there rather less than twenty-four hours ago."
"Man, you astonish me; fair take my breath away. But here we are."
He alighted at a store kept by a Parsi. It was a matter of a few
moments to purchase the petrol and machine oil, Smith paying for it
with English gold. The tins were rolled out; Mr. Macdonald hailed a
closed cab, into which they were put, and then they set off to return
to the golf links, Mr. Macdonald accompanying Smith, curious to see
the machine which had performed such an astonishing journey.
"I've read in the papers about these aeroplanes, but never seen one
yet. Is it your opinion, now, that we'll have a war in the air one of
these days?"
"I shouldn't wonder. We shall have cruisers and battleships, air
torpedoes and destroyers, air mines and air submarines."
"Are you pulling my leg, now?" asked Mr. Macdonald, but he received no
reply, for Smith had noticed an European provision shop, and
remembering that his biscuits and chocolate were running low, he
called to the driver to stop, and made some purchases. He took the
opportunity to lay in a dozen bottles of soda-water, and added a few
packets of Rodier's favourite cigarettes, for smoking during the
halts, for he would never allow a match to be struck near the engine.
Mr. Macdonald plied him with questions during the remainder of the
drive, and Smith was ready enough with his answers except on his
personal concerns. When they arrived at the links they found the
aeroplane surrounded by a vast crowd. The majority were natives, but
there was a sprinkling of Englishmen in the inner circle, and some
soldiers from the barracks were doing police duty in keeping the
onlookers at a distance from the aeroplane. Two British officers and
some civilians were talking to Rodier, who was cleaning the engine
with the assistance of a young fellow with the cut of a ship's
engineer.
The arrival of the cabs caused a stir among the spectators. Smith
alighted, asked Mr. Macdonald to see that the petrol and provisions
were carried quickly to the aeroplane, and advanced to ask Rodier how
he had been getting on.
"Like a house on fire, mister," replied the man. "Mr. Jones here is
just off the _Peninsular_, and has helped a lot."
"I say," said one of the officers, "is your man stuffing us up? He
says you have come from London in twenty-four hours."
"Quite true, Hawley," said Smith, with a smile. "Remember I googlied
you for a duck at Lord's last year?"
The officer stared.
"By George, it's Charley Smith! I didn't know you; you're like a
sweep. Yes, by George! and I stumped you and got it back on you. How
are you? Rogers, this is a gentleman of the King's navee--Charley
Smith, Elphinstone Rogers."
"How d'e do? Rummy machine, what!" said Captain Rogers.
"Yes, by George!" said Hawley. "What's your little game?"
"I've got seven days' leave, and am off big game hunting. Can't wait
for liners in these times."
"You don't say so!"
"Tigers, eh?" said Rogers. "Wish I was you! But is it safe? Looks
uncommon flimsy, what!"
"I hope for the best, but I haven't got a minute to spare. Sorry I
can't have a go at your pads again, Hawley. Finished, Roddy?"
"All complete, mister."
"All the stuff onboard?"
"Yes."
"Well, Mr.--Jones, is it? Much obliged to you. Roddy, pay those
fellows who've carried the stuff, and the drivers."
He handed him some silver.
"Hoots, man," said Mr. Macdonald; "that'll never do. They'll swank for
a week if you give them all that. Leave it to me."
"All right. You know best. Many thanks for your help. Hawley, d'you
mind getting your men to clear the course? I don't want to break any
bones. And perhaps you'll send a cable home for me. Address Thesiger
Smith, Cosham. Say 'All well.'"
"I'll do it, with pleasure."
"Thanks. Good-bye. Sorry I've got to rush off."
He shook hands all round, and jumped on board.
Rodier had already taken his place at the engine. It took a minute or
two for the soldiers to force the crowd back, an interval which Smith
utilized to trace on the map, for Rodier's guidance, the course he had
decided to follow. Then, the clatter of the starting engine silencing
the clamour of the crowd, the aeroplane ran forward and soared into
the air. Its ascent was hailed with a babel of shouts and cheers.
Smith waved his hand to his friends below; then, seeing that Rodier
had the map before him, he spread himself in his seat for a
comfortable nap.