pocket.
They now saw that they were at the edge of the ravine. Below them they
heard the gurgle and rush of the river. A few steps cut in the side of
the chasm led down to a narrow platform, and upon this the three stood
waiting. Mr. Appleton's call was answered from the opposite side, and
immediately afterwards the boys heard a creaking sound, as though a
machine of some sort were being wound up. Then a dark mass appeared to
detach itself from the wall of rock across the gap, and descend towards
them.
"My drawbridge," said their uncle.
It sank slowly and with much groaning and squeaking until the nearer end
rested on the edge of the platform where they stood. They stepped upon
it, followed by the Sikhs who had acted as their guides, and in a few
strides came to the other side.
"Welcome to the Appleton mine," said Mr. Appleton. "And now for supper.
Our menu isn't elaborate, but if you're as sharp set as I am you won't
be dainty. Come along!"
CHAPTER THE THIRD
MR. APPLETON'S MINE
Mr. Appleton led the way across a sort of yard, littered with mining
debris, towards a building in the upper part of which lights were
burning. To the left sheds and a chimney stack loomed up in the
darkness, scarcely distinguishable against the background of rock. They
passed through a gate, and found themselves in a less cumbered
enclosure, at the farther corner of which stood the illuminated
building. This proved to be a compact square edifice, the lower storey
of stone, the upper of wood. The door stood open, and in the entrance
appeared a grave turbaned servant, who salaamed as the boys went in.
"Chunda Beg, my khansaman," said Mr. Appleton. "Come upstairs and see
your room. We haven't over much space, but we've done our best to make
you comfortable."
The boys followed their uncle to the upper floor, which was one large
apartment divided into three by matchboard partitions carried up to
within a foot or two of the ceiling. In the first room, the
dining-room, they saw a table laid for supper. Passing through this
they entered Mr. Appleton's bedroom, a small chamber furnished only with
a narrow camp bed, a chair, a towel-horse, a tin basin on a stand, a
chest of drawers, and a zinc bath; a Persian rug lay on the floor at one
side of the bed. Beyond the further partition, which had evidently been
newly erected, was the boys' bedroom, about the same size as their
uncle's, similarly furnished, but with two camp beds separated by the
width of a Persian rug.
"No luxuries, you see," said Mr. Appleton, "but I think you'll find it
cosy. I believe there's a looking-glass somewhere on the premises if
you want to shave. That's a thing I haven't done for many years; Chunda
Beg gives me a trimming every now and then when I'm getting too shaggy.
As a follower of the Prophet, he wouldn't cut his own beard for a
pension. He'll send you up some hot water and soap, and when you've had
a wash, come in to supper."
The menu was not so scanty as Mr. Appleton had led the boys to believe.
There was a roast joint that tasted three parts mutton and one part
venison--the flesh of an ibex shot by Mr. Appleton himself. The
vegetables were mushrooms, onions and lotus beans; the sweets a rice
pudding and stewed peaches; and the beverage a kind of elderberry wine
diluted with hot water.
"You've got a good cook, Uncle," said Lawrence, when the khansaman had
brought coffee. "We haven't had so good a meal since we left Rawal
Pindi."
"Well, Shan Tai does his best. He's a Chinaman, of course. We grow our
own vegetables in a patch of ground down the valley. In fact, we do
most things ourselves. The gas is acetylene, made on the spot. Most of
the furniture in your room is home-made, as I dare say you noticed.
We're what you may call self-contained."
"What rooms have you got below?" asked Bob.
"We use the ground floor only for stores. In the dark you didn't see, I
suppose, that the walls are loopholed. The stone's very thick, and in
that little trouble I told you about we found them a capital
fortification. The kitchen is outside; the servants have their own
out-houses. The cook is Chinese, as I said; the khansaman is a Pathan;
there are one or two other fellows whose nationality is an unknown
quantity. Chunda Beg is a treasure, as grave as a judge, and as
resourceful as a Jack-tar. You'll take most interest, I expect, in my
storekeeper, Ditta Lal, a Bengali--what's commonly called a Babu. I
wager you haven't spoken to him for more than two minutes before he
tells you he is a B.A. of Calcutta University, and he'll tell you the
same thing ten times a day until he chokes."
"Why should he choke?" asked Lawrence.
"Because he's getting so disgustingly fat. I really mustn't raise his
screw--he calls it emoluments--any more. When he first came to me he
was thin and weedy like many of his kind; but he made himself extremely
useful, and I've increased his pay rather often. You'd be surprised at
the result if you could compare him as he is with what he was. Upon my
word, with every rise he swells visibly. I shouldn't like to say what
his waist measurement is now. I told him the other day that I really
couldn't raise him any more, for fear it proved fatal, and he smiled in
my face and said, 'Ah, sahib, God tempers the wind to the shorn lamb,'
which you won't beat for a piece of delightful inconsequence."
Talking thus, Mr. Appleton interested and amused the boys for an hour or
two until it was time to turn in. The night was cold; but snuggled
under thick blankets they slept like tops, and did not waken until the
khansaman entered with water for their morning tub.
At breakfast Mr. Appleton announced that his first business for the day
was the holding of a durbar to enquire into the scuffle of the night
before.
"My discipline is as easy as possible," he said; "there are few rules,
but I see that they are obeyed. The men represent some of the most
unruly tribes of the frontier, but they know I mean what I say, and on
the whole I've had very little trouble with them. Of course they get
good pay; that's the first condition of good work and contentment."
"The second is good holidays," said Lawrence with a smile.
"Ah, you've just left school!" said his uncle. "But the men haven't
anything to complain of on that score. They get holidays all the
winter. We stop work for four or five months. What with snowstorms and
the river frozen hard we could scarcely exist here in the winter months,
so the men go off to their homes and no doubt play the heavy swell among
their people, and I betake myself to Bokhara, or pay a round of visits
among my Chinese friends, or go on a hunting trip, returning in the
spring. But there's the bugle; come and see me in my part of unpaid
magistrate. Then I'll take you over the place."
On leaving the house, the boys saw a number of men filing through the
gate between two ranks of tall bearded Sikhs armed with rifles. Those
who came first were of the Mongolian type, with broad, flat, yellowish
faces, wide noses and narrow eyes. What little clothing they wore was
ragged and stained a deep indigo blue. These men, numbering about
eighty, formed a group on the left-hand side. After them entered more
than a score of swarthy black-haired fellows of more symmetrical shape
and more powerful physique, their features more sharply cut, some of
them having almost a Jewish cast of countenance. Their garments were
marked with streaks and stains of yellowish-green. Mr. Appleton
explained that they were for the most part Pathans from the Afghan
border; but they included also several Punjabis, a couple of Baluchis,
three or four Chitralis, and a sprinkling of men of Hunza and Nagar.
They formed up on the right-hand side.
At the door of an outhouse on the same side stood a very fat man whom
the boys easily recognized as the Bengali storekeeper. His podgy olive
cheeks were almost concealed by a bushy growth of black hair, and the
loose white garment he wore, encircled with a sash of brilliant red,
emphasised the vast unwieldiness of his bulk.
When all were assembled, the gate was shut, and Mr. Appleton, standing
before his door, called for Gur Buksh. One of the armed Sikhs stepped
forward, a tall, finely-proportioned, grey-bearded man, who, as the boys
afterwards learnt, had been a havildar in a native Border regiment of
the British army, and had seen considerable service on the frontier. He
stood at attention, saluted, and gravely awaited the sahib's questions.
The young Appletons looked on with curiosity, wishing that they could
understand the conversation that ensued. Lawrence made up his mind to
devote his spare time to a study of the native languages.
After Gur Buksh had made his report, Mr. Appleton called up two other
men, one from each of the groups. The first was a young Kalmuck, whose
yellow face would have been absolutely expressionless but for a keen
look in his restless eyes. The other was a big hook-nosed Pathan, with
strong, determined features and fierce low brows from beneath which his
coal-black eyes flashed with truculence. The Kalmuck, answering to the
name of Nurla Bai, gave brief and almost sullen answers to his master's
questions; Muhammad Din, the Pathan, on the contrary, spoke at length,
fiercely and volubly, with much play of features and hands. Having
heard them both, Mr. Appleton made a measured speech in fine magisterial
manner, and then dismissed them. At the close of his speech the boys
noticed that the two culprits threw swift glances at them, the Kalmuck's
eyes narrowing, and giving no clue to his thoughts, while the Pathan's
indicated keen interest and searching enquiry. The whole company
marched out of the gate, and the silence which they had hitherto
preserved gave way to excited talk as they went off to their work.
"So much for that," said Mr. Appleton. "It appears that, taking
advantage of my absence, the Kalmuck fellow, Nurla Bai, got into the
Pathan section of the mine works, against my express orders. Muhammad
Din stood up for law, rather zealously, and it would have come to a free
fight if Gur Buksh hadn't stepped in. At night, when they knock off
work, both parties cross the drawbridge to their huts on the other side,
and the quarrel was just breaking out again when we had the good luck to
come up. Nurla was clearly in the wrong, and I fined him a week's pay."
"He took it well," said Bob. "The fellow's face was like a mask."
"He was not so much unmoved as you think," said Mr. Appleton. "I know
the fellow pretty well, and I could tell by the look of him that he was
perfectly furious. I find my system answers very well. I punish all
breaches of the regulations with fines, which are pooled and distributed
every month among the men who haven't offended. Most of the men are
quite keen to get these additions to their pay; in fact, I've known some
of the rascals try to egg on a simple-minded mate to commit some slight
misdemeanour, so that he'll lose his pay for their benefit. They're
queer fish.... Good-morning, Ditta Lal."
The Bengali, who had been hovering about, gradually drawing nearer to
his master, and casting sheep's eyes at the two young strangers, now
waddled up, his face one broad smile.
"Good-morning, sir: good-morning, young gents," he said in a breathless
wheeze. "'Full many a glorious morning have I seen, flatter the
mountain tops with sovran eye,'--pat quotation from sweet Swan of Avon,
whose sonnets I got up, with notes, for final exam, for B.A. degree,
Calcutta University. Lovely morning, sir."
Mr. Appleton's eyes twinkled as he introduced his nephews, who were
looking at the Babu as at some strange specimen.
"You'll find several mule loads of stuff we ordered on the other side,
Ditta Lal," said Mr. Appleton.
"They shall be attended to instanter, sir. And I shall esteem it signal
honour on fitting occasion to act as guide, philosopher and friend to
young gents, show them my stores; in fact, do them proud, and all that."
He bowed, puffed, and waddled away. The boys laughed when his back was
turned.
"What a treasure!" said Lawrence. "Our old school porter at Rugton was
pretty big about, but this fellow would make two of him. What a rag the
chaps would have if we could transport him!"
"I can't spare him. He's an abiding joy. But come, let me take you
round."
The next hour was spent in going over the not very extensive settlement.
The boys found that the portion on the west side of the gorge was
divided into three. The first contained Mr. Appleton's dwelling-house,
the engine-house and stores, and a set of small stamps, together with
sheds for assaying, and a number of huts occupied by the personal native
servants and the Sikh garrison. The dwelling-house was built in an
angle of the cliff, which rose sheer behind it. Between house and cliff,
however, was a space of about three yards filled with heavy beams, which
were all loopholed. The whole of the enclosure in which the house stood
was surrounded by a bank of earth about six feet high, formed of
"tailings" from the mine. This bank was broken only in two places, one
for the gate leading into the second enclosure or compound, the second
for the drawbridge connecting with the east side of the gorge.
The second compound was somewhat smaller than the first. Here were to
be seen barrows, trucks, and other implements; a line of rails led into
a cave-like opening in the hillside, which, Mr. Appleton explained, was
the entrance to a vein or lode sloping upwards into the heart of the
mountain.
"It was lucky I hadn't to sink shafts," he said, "considering the
difficulty of bringing mining appliances to this remote region."
"What led you to pitch here?" asked Bob.
"Well, you may call it accident, or you may put it down to my being
possessed of a roving eye. I was hunting hereabout some years ago, and
caught sight of what seemed to be an outcrop of copper ore. I poked
about rather carefully, and collected a number of samples of this and
other ores, which I had tested by a capital fellow in Peshawar. His
assays confirmed my suspicions, and I thought I couldn't do better than
try my luck."
"Who does the place belong to?" asked Lawrence. "Do you pay rent?"
Mr. Appleton smiled.
"I'm afraid I'm a squatter," he said, "not unlike the ancestors of some
people I could name nearer home. The natives, I believe, used to pay
tribute to the Amir, and also to the Chinese emperor--a little gold dust
(where they got it I don't know)--a dog or two, and a basket of
apricots: some trivial thing like that; and as the people are nomads,
their suzerains, I dare say, thought they were lucky to get anything.
Then the Russians came along, and among other unconsidered trifles
snapped up this little no-man's land. They had a small military post a
couple of marches across the hills to the north. This was raided by the
Afghans when they got news of the Russian smash-up in Mongolia. The
Mongols turned out the Afghans; then the post was destroyed by another
Afghan raid; and since then nobody has troubled about it. It would
puzzle even an international jurist in a Scotch university to decide who
is the rightful sovereign of this tract of hill country; and meanwhile
I'm on the spot, and I'll stay here and get on with my work until I'm
turned out.
"This gallery here is worked by the Kalmucks: you saw some of them at
the stamping presses as you came up. The slope makes it easy to dig the
ore out, and also drains what little water there is: there's only a
trickle, as you see. Come into the next compound."
He unlocked the door in the stout fence, and led the boys into a third
enclosure, like the second, and having another line of rails leading
into a gallery.
"This is the Pathan section," said Mr. Appleton. "There are not quite
half as many Pathans as Kalmucks."
"I suppose you keep them apart for fear of ructions," said Bob.
"Partly," said Mr. Appleton, smiling a little as he added: "But there's
another reason; I'll tell you that later. We are not treating the ore
from this gallery at present. Look here."
He led them to the further fence, in which there was a gap, and bade
them look down. They saw a heap of greenish rock lying in a deep
saucer-shaped hollow between the yard and the river below. A line of
rails ran from the mouth of the gallery to the gap, and while the three
men stood there a couple of Pathans emerged from the hill, pushing a
laden truck before them. On arriving at the fence they tilted up the
truck, and the contents fell crashing upon the heap beneath.
"Now we'll go over the bridge and have a look at the miners' quarters on
the other side," said Mr. Appleton. "I have to inspect them frequently:
I'm magistrate, sanitary inspector, a regular Jack of all trades."
"Why did those two miners look at us so curiously when you were jawing
them?" said Lawrence.
"I had just told them who you were, my nephews and the new
superintendents. You've got to earn your living, you know. Bob will be
responsible for the Pathans, and you for the Kalmucks. Of course you've
a lot to learn."
"They looked as if they didn't much like their new bosses," said Bob.
"I daresay; but you'll be a comfort to me. I'm not troubled with nerves,
but at times, I confess, I have felt what the old ladies call lonesome
for want of a white man to talk to. The Babu is all very well, but now
and again he worries me. When I'm tired and bothered he'll expound a
knotty passage of Browning or some other incomprehensible poet; and when
I should enjoy a little stimulating conversation, he 'havers,' as the
Scotch say, in a mixture of high falutin' and outrageous slang. Now
that you are here I've no doubt he'll be nothing but the joy I find him
in my cheerful moods. I'm very glad of your company, boys."
CHAPTER THE FOURTH
THE AEROPLANE ARRIVES
During the next three weeks the younger Appletons were fully occupied in
studying the working of the mine. Dressed in calico overalls they
penetrated into the torch-lit galleries and watched the miners at their
work. They saw the process of crushing the ore, but Mr. Appleton's
operations went little further, for owing to his distance from
civilisation and the limited space at his disposal, he left the final
stages of purification to be performed in India. The boys were rather
curious to know why the colours of the stains upon the clothing of the
two bands of miners differed, but they forbore to question their uncle,
guessing that he would tell them all in good time, and would meanwhile
be pleased by their showing patience. In this they were right. Mr.
Appleton had no wish to keep any secrets from them; he was only waiting
until he had learnt something of the characters of the two young
fellows, whom he had not seen for several years, and at no time had had
many opportunities of studying.
They both soon showed their bents. In the evenings, when work was done,
there was little to occupy them. Mr. Appleton's books were few; they
were mainly books on mining and grammars and dictionaries of the local
dialects. Robert seized on the former; Lawrence devoted himself to the
latter; and their uncle was very well pleased, for each of these studies
would prove useful. Their recreations were for the present confined to
an occasional game of chess or cards, a still rarer shooting expedition
in the hills, and the reading of the rather dilapidated magazines which
had come at odd times from India and home. Lawrence missed his cricket,
and Bob his golf; but in spite of what Mr. Appleton had said about the
impossibility of using the aeroplane when it should arrive, they both
looked forward privately to trying their wings by and by.
Lawrence soon became popular with the natives. He had a turn for
languages, and managed to pick up quickly a little Turki and scraps of
the other tongues spoken by the very mixed crowd that constituted the
mining staff. Robert had not the same quickness in learning languages,
but he made himself useful on the engineering side. He had been
accustomed to spend part of his holidays in the engine shops of the
father of one of his schoolfellows, and found his experience valuable.
Once, for instance, when there was a breakdown of the somewhat crazy
engine that worked the stamping presses, he was able to make the
necessary repairs more quickly than Mr. Appleton himself, or the regular
engine man, could have done. Mr. Appleton was a very good prospector
and an all-round man in general, but he had no particular gift in the
direction of mechanics, while the engine man had picked up from his
master all he knew. He was a Gurkha, a short, compact little fellow, of
hard muscles and a very quick intelligence. His race is more accustomed
to military service than to machinery, and Fazl, as this man was named,
had never seen a steam engine before he came to the mine. Mr. Appleton
had found him wandering half starved in Turkestan two seasons before,
and out of sheer kindness of heart put him on as cleaner. Some time
after, the Mohammedan Bengali who had hitherto driven the engine asked
leave to go home and bury his grandmother, and Fazl was promoted to his
place. The Bengali, of course, never returned, and Fazl was still engine
man.
One evening after supper Mr. Appleton said--
"Don't get your books yet, boys; I want to show you something."
He placed a Bunsen burner on the table, and brought a blowpipe and a
piece of charcoal from a cupboard. Then he took from his pocket a small
lump of ore, which he laid on the charcoal with a little powdered
carbonate of soda, and proceeded to treat in the Bunsen flame. The boys
watched his experiment curiously. After a time they saw a bright bead
form itself on the surface of the ore. Mr. Appleton laid down the
blowpipe.
"What do you make of that?" he said.
"Is it tin?" asked Robert.
"Well, I have known school-boys call it 'tin' in the shape of sixpenny
bits. It is silver. Now I'll let you into my secret. The ore obtained
from the farther gallery, and dumped down into that very convenient
cavity, contains almost pure silver; there's method in my madness, you
see. Nobody knows it but yourselves; though I can't say what some of
the men may suspect. I don't attempt to work it for the simple reason
that I don't want the news to get about. If it became generally known
that I have struck silver, somebody might put in a claim to this
neglected region, and I should either have to decamp or be in constant
fear of attack. As it is, I think I am pretty secure; and when I have
got a sufficient quantity of the ore I shall close down, dismiss the
men, and carry the stuff to India."
"But isn't there silver also in the other gallery?" asked Bob.
"No. The two metals, so far as I can discover, lie in parallel vertical
streaks, with a band of quartz between them, and the men who are working
at the copper know nothing of the silver a few feet away. You see now
the reason why I keep the Kalmucks and the Pathans apart. The Kalmucks
work the copper; they belong more or less to the neighbourhood; but the
Pathans come from far distant parts, and if they should discover that
their ore is silver, they are not at all so likely as the Kalmucks to
bring unwelcome visitors upon me. I confess I was a little uneasy when
I heard the explanation of that scrimmage we happened upon as we rode
down. I wondered whether Nurla Bai's presence in the Pathan section was
due to some suspicion of the truth. But he has given no more trouble,
and I hope that I was wrong."
"He's a sulky beggar," said Lawrence. "I can't get a word out of him,
and I don't like those ugly eyes of his."
"I'm watching him," said Mr. Appleton. "He works well, and has a great
influence with the other Kalmucks. He's certainly far and away more
intelligent, and he has brought in a good many labourers. In fact, I
had to put a stop to his recruiting. I wanted to keep the Kalmucks
pretty equal in number to the Pathans, but, as you see, they already
outnumber them by more than two to one. One great nuisance is their
possession of firearms. I tried to induce them to hand them over when I
engaged them, but in these regions the hillmen are as tenacious of their
guns as our sailors are of their knives. Without my police Pathans and
Kalmucks would be at each other's throats."