not warn them to be careful, as his habit was, but bade them good-bye as
unconcernedly as if they had been going for a short train journey.
"He's fishing for an invitation," said Lawrence to his brother as they
rose into the air. "Bet you what you like we have him with us within a
week."
But the period proved to be even shorter. Before leaving the aeroplane
that evening, they spent an hour or two in making a third seat. Two days
later, when Mr. Appleton again crossed to their ledge to see them fly
off, he noticed the addition.
"Who's your second passenger?" he asked.
"Gur Buksh said that he'd like to try a flight," replied Bob: "but
knowing how much you disapprove of the machine, he hasn't ventured to
ask your permission yet."
"Humph! I don't think I can allow that--at any rate, until I have tried
it myself."
"You don't mean it, Uncle!"
"Well, having an hour to spare, I think perhaps--I've a very open mind,
you know."
"Come _on_, sir!" cried Lawrence, slapping him on the back. "That's
sporting, upon my word."
"Don't fly away with me," said Mr. Appleton, as he got into his place.
"One hour: no more."
But when they were soaring northward down the river, and came to where
the valley broadened out into the plains of Turkestan, Mr. Appleton
forgot altogether about his time limit. The old adventurous spirit was
still strong in him; after the first few minutes he was quite at his
ease, and even when Bob "banked" the machine in wheeling round, or when
a sudden gust swept through a rent in the mountain and made the
aeroplane heel over slightly, he showed no nervousness. The flight
lasted two hours, and as they walked back along the pathway, Mr.
Appleton said--
"If the country were only flatter, I might be tempted to go in for
flying myself. It's most exhilarating. But I'm afraid I'd never be
much good at it. I fancy it ought to be learnt young, like golf."
After that both Mr. Appleton and Gur Buksh were occasional passengers
with the boys. One day, as Lawrence was watching from the compound the
flight of Bob accompanied by the Sikh, Ditta Lal came to his side.
"I am consumed with envy, sir," he said: "envy, eldest born of hell, as
blind poet sings."
"Why, what's wrong?"
"Why, sir, that unlettered Sikh learns secrets of empyrean hidden from
me, B.A. of Calcutta University."
"Well, we'll take you, any time you like."
"Alas, sir! I am, through no fault of my own, fat and scant of breath,
and rapid transit through rarefied atmosphere would blow me out--I mean,
put disastrous strain upon my panting lungs."
"D'you know, Babu, I think you're a funk."
"I repel charge with honest indignation, sir. I am bold as a lion, king
of beasts--on terra firma, sir."
They had been using the aeroplane for about a fortnight when a convoy of
provisions arrived. The leader of the caravan brought news which gave
interesting material for discussion at the supper-table, and which was
talked over with scarcely less eagerness among the natives. The man
reported that he had had great difficulty in getting through.
Apparently an embargo had been laid on all food stuffs. Armed and
mounted men were flocking south-west from all parts of Mongolia, and the
talk of the country was that another great movement against Russia was
in preparation.
"They'll have a tougher job this time," said Mr. Appleton, in the quiet
hour before bedtime. "It was easy enough to lop off one of the
extremities of the empire, but they'll find things more difficult as
they near the European border, if that's what they are aiming at. I
don't know whether you know anything about history----"
"I know Napoleon's campaigns, not much else," said Bob.
"Well, you can take it from me, then, that when the Mongols were at
their strongest they couldn't keep a permanent footing in European
Russia. But there's such a lot of them, all mounted, too, that there's
just a chance they may sweep across the southern plains as their
forefathers did. Russia is in a bad way; they know that, of course.
This long war with Germany has broken her credit; she's seething with
unrest and rebellion; Finland's in revolt at last, and I shouldn't
wonder if the Poles make a move now: they wouldn't before, because they
don't love the Germans. It'll be rather curious if the Mongols do cut a
slice out of the bloated monster."
A night or two after this, when the caravan had departed, Bob awoke in
the small hours, and feeling rather thirsty, got up for a drink. The day
had been very hot, and before returning to bed he sat at the open window
to inhale the fresh cool breeze that blew along the gorge. Everything
was very still. All that he could hear was the gurgling of the stream,
now swollen to its full extent by the melted snow from the mountains;
and the occasional whinny of a horse from the sheds that served as
stables on the other side.
He had sat thus for a few minutes drinking in the beauty of the night
when his eye was caught by a faint glow in the distance. It seemed to
be near the entrance of the Pathan gallery, his own section of the mine.
The glow flickered; it was not strong enough to light up the
surroundings.
"That's very curious," he thought, and was on the point of awaking
Lawrence, when it occurred to him that he would look rather foolish if
it proved to be nothing but a colony of glow-worms. He knew nothing of
natural history, or he would not have suspected the possibility of
finding glowworms in such a spot. But he was sufficiently curious to
feel that he must find out the cause of the light. He could not leave
the house without passing through his uncle's room, and unwilling to
disturb the household, he made up his mind to climb out of the window,
which was at no great distance above the ground. The timbers of the
upper part of the house were rough; and a practised climber would find
no difficulty in descending by availing himself of their inequalities
until he reached the stone part and could drop.
He pulled on his socks, thrust his arms into his smoking jacket, and
clambered out. The sound he made in reaching the ground was so faint
that it did not disturb the doorkeeper, slumbering Indian fashion on the
threshold thirty feet away. Crossing the compound on tiptoe, he came to
the fence, and regretted that he had not thought to bring his key of the
gate: there was nothing for it but to scale the obstacle. This he did,
and crossed the Kalmuck section in the same way, moving very quietly,
for he did not wish to attract the attention of the sentry on duty at
the drawbridge or to rouse the settlement.
From the time of his dropping from the window until he had crossed the
second fence and stood in the Pathan section, the glow had been hidden
from him. It now revealed itself as originating in the mine gallery.
The glow was diffused through the opening, though the source of light
was not visible. No one had any business there after the bugle had
sounded the time for ceasing work. Thinking that perhaps the Pathan
foreman, Muhammad Din, had forgotten to extinguish one of the torches
that were employed for lighting the miners at their work, Bob was about
to cross the ground and enter the gallery without precaution. But he
was checked by the thought that the explanation might not be so simple.
He threw a glance round the compound. All was dark and quiet. Then he
stole across to the mouth of the gallery, and after a moment's pause
entered it.
Some little distance from the entrance a torch was burning in its socket
on the wall. Nobody was in sight. If there was indeed a trespasser in
the mine, he was either behind one of the beams supporting the roof, or
farther down the gallery. This was straight from the opening up to the
torch, which was so placed as to light a further stretch that bent a
little inwards. Bob went along carefully, looking behind every beam and
into every recess, but without discovering an intruder.
Having come level with the torch, he stopped, and glancing round the
curving wall, was surprised to see another light about twenty paces
ahead. It was burning but dimly; the ventilating apparatus was not at
work; but the illumination was sufficient to reveal the figure of a man
bending to the floor, engaged apparently in gathering small fragments of
rock. Bob could not identify the man, whose back was towards him.
Whatever his object was, there was something suspicious in his having
chosen the dead of night for carrying it out; and Bob at once made up
his mind to steal upon the man, seize him, and haul him before Mr.
Appleton. He crept forward; there were only about a dozen paces between
the two. But while he was in the very act of making his leap, he was
conscious of a rush of feet behind him. Next moment he was struck by a
heavy object, and fell on his face to the floor of the gallery. His
head hit the hard rock; there was one instant of intense pain, and then
his senses forsook him.
[Illustration: THE ATTACK IN THE GALLERY]
CHAPTER THE SIXTH
NURLA BAI DISAPPEARS
Bob never knew how long he lay unconscious on the floor of the gallery.
When he came to himself he was in darkness: only the smoky atmosphere
remained to bear witness to the reality of the torches. He rose dizzily
to his feet, feeling sick and giddy as the result both of his blow and
of the close air, and groped his way slowly to the entrance. There the
cool breeze somewhat revived him; but he found it difficult to make his
way past the obstacles which had given him no trouble before. To scale
the fences cost much labour, and he was near fainting by the time he
reached the house. Having no key with him, he had to waken the darwan
who lay wrapped in rugs on his mat before the door. The man was much
surprised to see him, but said nothing as he gave him admittance. Bob
crept upstairs quietly; his uncle's door was open, and he managed to
cross the room without waking him. Then he dropped on to his bed and
nudged his brother.
"You're a juggins," said Lawrence rather unfeelingly, when he had heard
the story. "That's the sort of thing they do in the school stories, when
the bold bad bully climbs down the gutterpipe and sneaks off to the pub
to play cards and swill swipes. But I say, you're not hurt, old man?"
"The whack on the head rather crumpled me up," replied Bob.
Lawrence was out of bed in a trice, lit his candle, and bent over his
brother.
"There's a bump as big as a duck's egg," he said. "Jolly lucky your
head's hard, old chap! Turn over, and I'll bathe it."
In getting the water-can he stumbled over his boots, making a slight
noise.
"It's time you fellows were asleep, came a muffled voice through the
door. Mr. Appleton had awoke, and fancied that the boys had not yet
settled down for the night.
"Shall we tell him?" said Lawrence.
"I meant to wait till morning, but as he's awake--yes, I think we had
better."
Lawrence opened his uncle's door.
"I say, Uncle," he said, "Bob fancied he heard burglars and went
prowling without a knuckle-duster----"
"Go to bed," growled Mr. Appleton, only half awake.
"It'll keep till morning, but I think you had better hear it now. I'll
tell you through the doorway while I bathe Bob's head."
"What's wrong with his head?"
When Lawrence explained how Bob had seen a glow from the window, in the
Pathan section of the mine, Mr. Appleton sat up, now thoroughly
awakened. He listened to the rest of the story in silence. At its
conclusion he said:
"Just cut downstairs and tell that fellow at the door to hold his tongue
about it. Why on earth didn't you wake me at once, Bob, instead of
playing that schoolboy trick?"
"I didn't want to disturb you."
"That's all very well, though you wouldn't have hurt an old campaigner
like me. You ought to have told me at once, and then we might have
caught the rascal. I'm afraid there's trouble ahead, and I've a shrewd
suspicion who's at the bottom of it. You didn't recognize the man in
the gallery?"
"No; his back was towards me."
"What's it mean, Uncle?" asked Lawrence, returning.
"It means that some one--Nurla Bai, I fancy--suspects that I've found
silver, or at any rate something better than copper. You remember how
he'd been trespassing on the night you came. But how did he get across?
You saw all the men off the premises at bugle call, Bob?"
"Yes."
"Then he's either in league with the sentry, or caught him napping,
though I don't understand how Gur Buksh and his men could have slept
through the groaning and creaking of the drawbridge."
"Perhaps it wasn't Nurla at all, but some one on this side," suggested
Lawrence.
"I don't believe it for a moment. The Sikhs are perfectly trustworthy;
the servants too; and the Babu, though as inquisitive as a monkey, is
quite honest and knows nothing about ores--though I daresay he wouldn't
own it. Look here! we must say nothing whatever about this matter. To
refer to it publicly would only stir up unrest among the workmen, and
might lead to disturbances between the Pathans and the Kalmucks. Each
set would accuse the other. We must keep quiet for a day or two, and
watch. You had better not show up to-morrow, Bob. To see you with your
head bandaged would set every one talking."
"I shall be all right in the morning," said Bob.
"I hope so. By the way, you were struck from behind, you say?"
"Yes: there are evidently two men in it."
"So much the better. There'll be two quaking in their shoes, and we may
be able to spot signs of guilt in their manner. Keep your eye on Nurla
and Black Jack, who follows him like a shadow. You made the darwan
understand he's not to talk, Lawrence?"
"He won't say a word, I'm sure."
"Then get to bed. I see you've bandaged Bob's head in a workmanlike
way. Where did you learn that?"
"Ambulance work in the school cadet corps, Uncle."
"Ah! They manage things better than when I was young. Good-night,
boys."
Bob found himself much better in the morning, and declined his uncle's
suggestion that he should remain in bed. But his wound was too painful
to allow of his wearing a hat, and his appearance bareheaded, and with a
strip of sticking plaster on his neck just behind his ear, caused many
curious eyes to be turned towards him. Only the Babu made any reference
to it. Inquisitiveness was his failing, and he could never keep his
tongue still.
"I perceive, sir," he said, "that you are not in your usual salubrity.
Your countenance is pale, and I opine from patch upon your neck that all
is not O.K. Pardon me, have you abraded the cuticle?"
Bob looked at him.
"Because, sir," the Babu continued with great deference, "I have in my
store sticky plaster, powdered alum, gold-beater's skin, sweet olive
oil, cold cream scented with roses, all things warranted to make
epidermis blooming and good as new. Item and in addition, perhaps a
little cooling draught may reduce inflammability and----"
"Oh, shut up!" said Bob, and the Babu went away smiling but sorrowful.
The three Englishmen went about their usual occupations as if nothing
had occurred. They watched the workmen narrowly for signs of guilt, but
could detect nothing. The Pathans were frankly curious and sympathetic;
the faces of the Kalmucks were as expressionless as they always appear
to Europeans. Nurla Bai, who was the special object of Mr. Appleton's
attention, was inscrutable: there was no change in his demeanour.
Convinced that his assailant had in some way crossed the river in the
darkness of the previous night, Bob was at a loss to guess how he had
accomplished the feat. In the interval at mid-day, when the men had
trooped across the drawbridge for their meal, he suggested to Lawrence
that they should walk along the pathway to the ledge on which they kept
the aeroplane, and see if there were some fordable place which had
escaped their uncle's notice. On the way they examined every foot of
the cliff below them. It rose sheer from the bed of the river, so steep
and smooth as to afford no foothold for man or beast. Even if the river
had been swum or forded, it would have been impossible for any one to
climb up to the level platform on which the mine works were situated.
Nor could the most hardy and adventurous stranger have approached from
above, for the slope was too steep to give foothold to a mountain sheep.
In the other direction, down-stream, access was equally impossible, and
for a time both the boys felt thoroughly baffled.
At length, however, Lawrence made a discovery. In retracing his steps
towards the plank pathway he climbed out upon a huge buttress of rock
that projected some feet into the river.
"Take care!" cried Bob, feeling some alarm at the risk his brother was
running.
"All right, old man," returned Lawrence. "It's rather a fine view down
the gorge from here. You'd better try it yourself when your head's
mended."
He picked his way carefully over the somewhat uneven rock, and had gone
three parts of the way round its circumference when he suddenly stood
fixed, staring at something in front and a little below him.
"By George!" he ejaculated in an undertone. Then he lay flat on the
summit of the rock, wriggled forward to the edge, until his head
projected, and peered downwards.
"What is it?" asked Bob from his position several yards in the rear.
Lawrence did not answer until he had crawled backward and once more
stood erect.
"I've solved the puzzle," he said. "The fellows have got courage at any
rate, and must be as agile as monkeys. There's a rope hanging down from
the last beam,--down the cliff into the water."
"A rope!"
"Yes, one of our stoutest, cleverly stained so that it's hardly
distinguishable from the rock itself. I caught sight of something
swaying, and it took me a few seconds to be sure what it was. Whoever
it was that knocked you on the head--Tchigin very likely--he must have
climbed the rope, twisted himself up on to the planks, and so got to the
mine. It's a trick I shouldn't care to attempt."
"But how on earth did he get to the rope from the other side? He
couldn't have forded, and the strongest swimmer couldn't get across with
the torrent rushing down at something like eight miles an hour."
"That wants thinking out. Meanwhile we'd better get back. If we were
seen here we might put somebody on the alert."
"Yes. I tell you what: we'll cross the bridge and stroll up the other
side; perhaps we may get a clue there."
They walked back without hurry along the planks, spent some little time
in their respective sections of the mine, and then, taking their shot
guns, crossed the bridge and walked up the narrow road as they had done
many times before when shooting.
"I've been trying to work it out," said Bob as they went. "If I wanted
to make for a particular spot on the other side, I should plunge in a
good way higher up--you know, where the stream widens and isn't quite so
swift. Then I should strike diagonally across and trust the current to
carry me where I wanted to go."
"It would sweep you past. You couldn't be sure of hitting the rope."
"I don't know. We'll see when we get opposite it."
They sauntered on side by side, giving no signs of the carefulness with
which they were examining the base of the cliff on the farther side. The
bank beneath the road on which they were walking was not precipitous
like the opposite cliff. Here and there the rocks shelved down to the
water's edge, but there was no continuous perpendicular barrier.
Their course brought them presently opposite the buttress by which hung
the rope. They did not pause, but as they strolled on Bob said--
"You see that in the angle formed by that buttress and the cliff there's
a sort of backwater: not exactly a backwater, of course, but the force
of the current is much diminished there. If a swimmer got to that
point, he could make headway against the stream."
"That's just where the rope hangs. Did you see it?"
"No; I only took a passing glimpse. We'll turn in a few minutes and
take a better look going back."
They went on. Lawrence shot a ptarmigan which would give colour to the
ostensible object of their walk. Then they turned and retraced their
steps. As they passed the buttress Bob looked carefully for the rope,
and could just discern it by its slight motion against the background of
rock.
"You might pass a dozen times and never notice it," he said.
Facing in the same direction as the current they were now able to take a
more comprehensive view of the gorge.
"Where would you make your plunge if you wanted to swim across?" asked
Bob.
Lawrence looked along the bank.
"There!" he said after a little, indicating a rock a few feet below and
beyond them, that jutted out into the river.
"Well, let's go and take a look from there."
They left the track, climbed on to the rock, and sat down there with
their knees up, flinging pebbles aimlessly into the water.
"I think you're right," said Bob. "Allowing for the strength of the
current it's just about here that I should take the plunge. The oblique
distance between this and the rope would make the
diagonal--parallelogram of forces, you know."
"I don't suppose Nurla knows anything about that," said Lawrence with a
smile. "But look here: don't these bushes look as if they'd been
disturbed recently?"
He nodded his head towards some scrubby bushes at their right hand.
"You'd think so, certainly," said Bob. "Still, we may be wrong. I
remember old Colonel Fanshawe warning us against the danger of seeing
what we wanted to see."
After sitting a few minutes longer, keeping up the appearance of
aimlessness by careless tossing of pebbles into the water, they rose and
resumed their walk. But just at this moment Lawrence caught sight of a
dark object among the bushes that grew sparsely on the hillside above
the track, twenty yards away. At the distance, partially concealed by
the foliage, the nature of the object was not apparent; but Lawrence
clambered up by means of the bushes, and discovered a long coil of thin
strong cord, lying between two inflated water-skins. He left them where
they were, and returned to the track.
"It's clear as daylight," said Bob, when he had heard his report. "The
fellow fastened the cord to the rock and held on to it when he took the
water. He supported himself on the skins, and when he got to the other
side, attached cord and skins to the dangling rope. When he came back,
he hauled himself hand over hand against the stream, and pulled in the
cord after him. That cord will, metaphorically speaking, hang the
fellow, but he's clever enough to have deserved a better fate."
They returned slowly to the compound, well pleased with the result of
their investigations.
A few minutes after they had gone, a small figure rose from among the
bushes within a few yards of the spot where the cord was placed.
Clambering up the hillside, and screening himself as much as possible
behind clumps of vegetation, and by the natural inequalities of the
ground, the little man made his way rapidly in the same direction as the
Englishmen, and descended unseen among the huts of the Kalmuck miners.
His narrow little eyes were gleaming with excitement. The men were just
returning to work. The Pathans had already crossed the drawbridge; the
Kalmucks were crossing. Black Jack pushed his way into the throng,
apparently in a great hurry. He overtook Nurla Bai at the entrance to
the mine gallery, and together they disappeared.
The boys lost no time in communicating their discoveries to Mr.
Appleton.
"This is getting warm," he said. "We can do nothing yet. Act as though
nothing had happened: to-night we'll talk things over. You're sure none
of the men suspect you?"
"There's no sign of it," said Lawrence. "They saw us go, and come back
with a bird: a very ordinary thing, that. I flatter myself that a
Scotland Yard detective wouldn't have guessed from our manner that there
was any other object in our walk."
The day passed like every other day. At sundown the bugle's note drew
the men from their work. They returned to their several quarters, and
after their evening meal settled down to their games of chance or skill.
After supper, when pipes were lit, Mr. Appleton returned to the subject.