industry when you were building your bridges. The scoundrel's motive is
clear. The question is, what is he after? It can't be mere
inquisitiveness. He suspects that the Pathans are mining something more
valuable than copper, and if he can prove it, he'll sell his knowledge,
I suspect, and we shall have trouble. I only hope that your appearance
last night disturbed him before he had had time to get any samples."
"If it didn't?" said Bob.
"He'll probably try again. The fact that he hasn't absconded seems to
show that he isn't satisfied. If he had got enough for his purpose he
would have been over the hills before this. We must keep a strict watch,
and if we catch him making any further attempt of the same kind it's the
sack at once."
"Wouldn't it be best to sack him now?" Lawrence suggested.
"I'm rather loth to act without definite proof. We should make an enemy
of the fellow needlessly, and he has such influence with the Kalmucks
that he might call them all out."
"Would that matter? The silver's the thing," said Lawrence.
"Not at all. If I went on mining without them it would be a clear proof
that I could afford to leave their gallery unworked, and there'd be
trouble all the same. There'll probably be trouble anyhow, but I'd
rather keep the Kalmucks working quietly as long as possible. Meantime
we'll take precautions. I'll put a Sikh in the Pathan section to keep
guard through the night, and withdraw him before dawn, so that nobody is
any the wiser."
Early next morning, a few minutes after the bugle had sounded reveille,
the Englishmen were disturbed in their dressing by the sound of a great
uproar from across the river. They flung on their coats and hurried
out. The drawbridge had not been lowered; half an hour would elapse
before the bugle called the men to work. But at the farther end the
Pathan miners had assembled, and were gesticulating in much excitement,
shouting lustily for the huzur. Mr. Appleton ordered the drawbridge to
be let down, and hastened across to meet the men.
For some time he found it impossible to gather anything definite from
their frenzied clamour. Then, singling out one man as a spokesman, and
bidding the rest be silent, he heard a startling story. Muhammad Din,
the Pathan foreman, had been discovered in his hut with a knife in his
throat. Mr. Appleton had a great liking for the man--a rough uncouth
fellow, but an excellent workman and very popular with the men of his
race. He at once gave orders that Muhammad should be carried across the
bridge to the house, and announced that he would hold an inquiry after
breakfast.
In knocking about the world he had picked up a knowledge of rough and
ready surgery and medicine, and had more than once treated sick men. A
short examination showed that the wound in the unconscious Pathan's
throat was serious, though not necessarily mortal, and he set to work at
once to cleanse it with antiseptic lotion and to bind it up. While he
was still in the midst of this task, more surprising news was brought
from the other side.
Quarrels between the Pathans and the Kalmucks had been so frequent in
the early days of the settlement that Mr. Appleton had had to devise a
plan for minimizing the risk of such outbreaks. The quarters of the two
parties were separated by a neutral zone nearly a hundred yards in
breadth, which they were strictly forbidden to cross. They used it in
common only when going to and from their work, and then at different
times, the Pathans leaving first and returning last. If a Pathan wished
to go down the river, he had to climb the hillside and come down to the
track beyond the Kalmuck camp. If a Kalmuck wished to go up the river,
he had to make a similar circuit. The stables were placed in the
neutral zone.
When the attack on Muhammad was discovered, and the Pathans rushed to
the drawbridge, the Kalmucks were aroused by the din, and flocked to the
fence marking the boundary line. But they were unaware of what had
happened until their turn came to cross the bridge and they heard the
story from the Sikh on duty. A few minutes afterwards, however, it was
discovered that neither Nurla Bai nor his dwarf henchman was among their
party. No sooner was this reported than the head stableman rushed
excitedly across the bridge, to announce that the ponies on which the
two boys had ridden to the mine had disappeared. These successive
discoveries threw the whole community into a state of seething
agitation. Instead of going to their work, the men gathered in groups,
discussing the strange thing that had happened to their foreman.
Already the Pathans were shouting accusations of Nurla Bai across their
fence, and Gur Buksh with his armed squad stood ready to intervene if
the wild passions of the miners led from recrimination to blows.
Mr. Appleton did not allow these events to interrupt his ministrations
to the injured Pathan. When Muhammad, with his wound well dressed, had
recovered consciousness, and was laid in one of the outhouses belonging
to the domestic staff, Mr. Appleton and the boys returned to their rooms
to finish dressing and breakfast.
"It's all as plain as a pikestaff now," said the elder man. "Nurla has
got all he wanted; he must have guessed that he was suspected, and very
wisely decamped. And he paid off his old grudge against Muhammad before
he left. He's got your ponies too. That's what they call robbery with
violence, I think."
"What shall you do, Uncle?" asked Lawrence.
"Go after him, of course. I couldn't otherwise hold the Pathans for an
hour. They know I'm just, and as good as my word. If I tell them that
Nurla shall be caught and punished they'll believe me and remain as
quiet as Gur Buksh can keep them. Otherwise they'd desert in a body and
hunt the hills themselves."
"Nurla's got a good start: it won't be easy to catch him," said
Lawrence.
"You forget Bob's aeroplane, my boy," said Mr. Appleton.
CHAPTER THE SEVENTH
NURLA AT BAY
If Mr. Appleton had wished to atone for the coldness of his former
attitude to airmanship, he could scarcely have shown more eagerness to
make use of the aeroplane in hunting down the fugitive malefactor. He
was blind to the difficulties. To guard against a disappointment, Bob
ventured to point out the disadvantages under which the pursuit would be
conducted--the few landing-places and fewer starting-places which the
rugged country offered; the ease with which the men, even if discovered,
might conceal themselves in some woody ravine or some inaccessible cleft
in the mountain side: the likelihood of their escaping notice
altogether. There was every chance indeed that they would be espied, if
at all, upon some tract of country where to make a descent would be
impossible; and before the pursuers could reach a suitable spot, there
would be plenty of time for the men to alter their direction and elude
the most careful search. The one point in favour of the pursuit was
that Nurla was accompanied by Black Jack: it would not be so easy for
two as for one to escape notice.
Mr. Appleton ignored all Bob's well-meant hints of failure, and was only
anxious to be off. He summoned the Pathans and explained to them what he
was about to do, warning them against misbehaviour in his absence. He
gave instructions to Gur Buksh to maintain strict discipline, and
flattered the Kalmucks into good temper by assuring them of his belief
in their loyalty. Then, having arranged that a small party of Pathans
should ride northwards down the track, he hurried after the boys, who
had already gone to prepare the aeroplane for flight.
He had no doubt that Nurla had fled northward, in the direction of his
own people. For at least forty miles the fugitives would be obliged to
keep pretty closely to the valley, for, as far as Mr. Appleton and any
of his people knew, there was no practicable way over the hills for
horses. After that the country began to open out: the river broadened
and was fordable in several places, and the fugitives would have the
choice of several routes, either to the right or the left. It was
therefore necessary to overtake them and hold them up while they were
still in this forty-mile stretch of rugged river valley. Mr. Appleton's
idea was to fly ahead of them as soon as they had been sighted, land at
the first convenient spot, and hold them in check until the mounted
party had had time to come up. It was impossible to tell how many hours'
start the men had had; but even if they had left the settlement soon
after dark their progress along the rough and dangerous track must have
been slow, and it seemed hardly likely that they could reach the open
country before the swift-flying aeroplane overtook them.
The boys rapidly overhauled the engine and tested the steering and
controlling gear. Bob felt a trifle anxious when he noticed how rapidly
the clouds were racing before the wind, which blew from the west.
Flying in the valley, the aeroplane would be protected from the full
lateral force of the wind by the high mountain barrier on each side.
But there was considerable danger of encountering gusts and eddies
sweeping through clefts and gorges here and there, and it was impossible
to calculate at what precise angle the aeroplane might be struck by a
sudden blast. However, the conditions were no worse than they had
already been in some of his practice trips, and he only felt a little
additional nervousness because Mr. Appleton had never yet accompanied
him except in absolutely calm weather.
Just as they were preparing to start it occurred to Mr. Appleton that
some unforeseen contingency might prolong their absence from the mine.
"Run back," he said to Lawrence, "and tell some of the men to bring over
enough food for a couple of days and two or three skins of water, in
case we don't get a chance to draw some from the river. You had better
tell the Pathans, too, to take food in their saddle-bags. It's just as
well to be prepared for emergencies."
All arrangements having been made, they took their places. Chunda Beg
and the Babu were among the men who had walked to the ledge to witness
and assist in the start.
"I wish good luck and safe return," said the Babu impressively. "As for
that villain of deepest dye, I approve of strongest measures. There is
varied choice of punishments--pistol, rope, et cetera: the best, in my
humble opinion, is to let him dangle from rope until death comes as
merciless release."
"If you don't skip, Babu," said Bob, "you'll be caught by our wings, and
either be carried up to the heavens or dashed over the edge into the
river."
Ditta Lal instantly picked up his skirts and fled, not halting until he
reached a safe distance. There he watched the ascent of the aeroplane
until it disappeared round a bend in the gorge. Then he returned to the
compound, following Chunda Beg, to whose back he discoursed on the
velocity of the wind, the native iniquity of the Kalmuck race, and the
various tortures to which Nurla Bai might conscientiously be put when he
was captured.
Bob steered the machine along the middle of the valley, keeping low in
order to avoid the wind. On either side rose the lofty mountain barrier,
here overhanging the river, there receding; at some spots an almost
perpendicular wall, at others broken into peaks and parapets, with deep
hollows in which a scanty vegetation struggled for existence on a thin
soil. Now the valley narrowed so that there seemed barely space for the
aeroplane to pass: now it widened into a series of rocky terraces,
seamed by fissures in every direction. The track on the right bank
followed the winding course of the river for many miles, then dipped to
a ford and reappeared on the left. Some miles farther on it recrossed
the river by a crazy bridge of rope, and continued along the right bank
past the foothills and out into an extensive plateau.
Bob as usual acted as pilot. By flying pretty close upon the river he
not only avoided danger from gusts, but enabled his companions to keep a
sharp observation upon the ground. Here and there, where this wound
behind the rocks between the bank and the hillside, he left the river,
planed a little higher, and steered a course exactly over the track.
The recent invention of planes which could be lengthened or shortened at
will rendered it possible to travel at more varied speed than had
formerly been the case, and when he was several miles from the mine he
reduced speed to the minimum. Even then, however, the aeroplane moved
so swiftly that there was some danger of the watchers passing their
quarry without perceiving them. This was not likely where the track was
closely hemmed in between river and hillside. The risk was greatest
where the latter receded from the course of the stream, leaving large
areas of rough country, sometimes covered with bush, in which the
fugitives could without much difficulty hide out of sight of any one not
passing immediately above them.
The ford at which the track crossed the river was about twenty miles
from the mine. Coming to that point without having seen the fugitives,
Bob followed the track along the left bank. Here the open spaces became
more frequent, and it would have been impossible to examine the ground
thoroughly without circling. For the present Bob hesitated to do this,
feeling that it was more important to keep to the track for so long a
distance as the fugitives might have covered had they started at the
earliest likely moment, twelve hours before. Another twelve miles
brought him to the rope bridge, where he again crossed the river, and so
continued until, ten miles farther, the foothills were reached, and the
country began to open out.
It was obvious to all three occupants of the aeroplane that the only
means of thoroughly searching the comparatively open country at which
they had now arrived was to rise to a greater height and sail about in
widening circles. Bob therefore adjusted his elevator; and as the
machine swept round, the other two peered over on opposite sides, using
their glasses to scan the ground beneath. The fugitives being
presumably mounted on the stolen ponies could hardly be otherwise than
conspicuous; and when, after more than half an hour's careful
observation, nothing had been seen of them, the pursuers came to the
conclusion that the men could not yet have quitted the valley. This was
a very reasonable inference, considering that they had covered in less
than an hour a distance of nearly fifty miles, which the fugitives, even
on horseback, must take many hours to traverse. The natural conclusion
was that the horsemen, warned by the whirring of the propeller, if not
by the actual sight of the aeroplane, had taken shelter in one of the
more rugged or more thickly wooded places until the pursuers had passed.
There was nothing for it but to turn back and hunt up the valley again.
The aeroplane was crossing the plateau obliquely towards the opening of
the gorge when Lawrence suddenly caught sight of a number of round
objects resembling bee-hives, clustered in a secluded dell. He pointed
them out to Mr. Appleton, who examined them through his glass.
"They are akois," he said: "the portable huts used by the nomad tribes
in these parts, made of a circular wooden framework covered with felt.
But I've never before seen so many in a group."
As they looked, the intervals between the akois became filled with a
dense crowd of men, who stood gazing up in astonishment at the strange
machine flying high above their heads. The airmen had no particular
interest in wheeling about to make a careful inspection of the camp, for
it was inconceivable that Nurla and his man had come so far and joined
their compatriots, if such these people were. They had soon left it far
behind, and descending gradually as they neared the gorge, they
re-entered this at an altitude of not more than a hundred feet above the
river to renew their search.
Bob found it by no means easy to follow a course that would enable his
passengers to obtain a clear view of the more rugged portions of the
valley. Here and there, at the wider parts, he was able to wheel round
and cover wide areas; but in the narrow stretches he was forced to fly
straight ahead without the possibility of turning, unless he should rise
to a great height. This would involve a loss of time which could be ill
afforded. Once or twice, in attempting to circle, he almost shaved the
rocky sides; and deciding that such attempts were too dangerous, he
concluded that he had better leave certain parts imperfectly explored
rather than risk injury to the aeroplane. He compromised matters by
steering a serpentine course, thus covering as much as possible of the
ground on both sides of the river.
The aeroplane was approaching the rope bridge when Mr. Appleton suddenly
called out that he saw two men on horseback on the track beyond. In
another moment he recognized them through his glass as the men of whom
they were in pursuit. They were nearly a mile distant, entering a
stretch of the gorge that was particularly rugged, and no doubt afforded
plenty of cover. It had been prearranged that as soon as the men were
sighted Bob should make a descent as near as possible ahead of
them--that is, down-stream--but it was no surprise to Bob--indeed, it
was only according to the ill-luck that seems to rule on such
occasions--that no suitable landing place offered itself.
He remembered, however, that in flying downstream he had noticed, two or
three miles above the bridge, a place where the valley widened
sufficiently to allow the aeroplane to circle. He decided to fly direct
to this spot, turn, follow the men, outstrip them, and land at a spot
some distance down-stream, where a landing had seemed feasible.
Lawrence suggested that he or his uncle should take a flying shot at the
men as they passed above them, but Mr. Appleton would not consent.
"Punishment before trial won't do," he said.
By this time the fugitives had disappeared behind a sort of parapet of
rock just above the bridge, which spanned the river at a height of
twenty or thirty feet. On first sighting them, Bob had caused the
aeroplane to descend until it was almost level with the bridge. As they
came to it, Mr. Appleton rose in his seat behind the pilot, to see, if
he could, the precise spot in which the fugitives had concealed
themselves. He had just done so, and was leaning slightly to the right,
when there came in rapid succession the crack, crack of two rifles. And
then Lawrence, in the third seat, was horrified to see his uncle pitch
forward, lose his grip on the stay he was clutching, and fall headlong
into the river. It all happened so instantaneously that the boy had no
time even to reach forward. He sprang up, almost over-balancing himself,
but before he could stretch out his hand Mr. Appleton was whirling in
mid-air.
At the moment of the accident Bob was made aware that something had
happened by the lurch which the sudden loss of weight caused the
aeroplane to give. A cry from Lawrence apprised him of the nature of
the accident. For a few moments both the boys were dazed by the shock
of their uncle's disappearance, so sudden, so unexpected, so terrifying.
Bob had instinctively moved his controlling lever to counter-act the
lurch. As soon as he knew what had happened, instinct again prompted
him to bring the aeroplane round; but reason coming to his aid, he
corrected the movement just in time to avoid dashing the plane against
the rocky barrier on his left hand.
"Keep straight ahead!" shouted Lawrence in terror.
But before the words were out of his mouth the danger of a fatal smash
was avoided. The aeroplane flew at full speed up-stream. In a few
minutes it would reach the wider space where turning was possible. Only
then could the direction of its flight be reversed, and the fate of Mr.
Appleton be ascertained.
In their anxiety for their uncle, both the boys had now forgotten the
very existence of the Kalmuck miscreants. It did not occur to them that
in repassing the same spot on their flight down-stream they might be in
danger from the same concealed marksmen. As the aeroplane turned,
Lawrence called to his brother to descend still lower, so that they
might the more easily see their uncle's body if he were still floating
in the stream.
"If I see him, I'll dive in," he said. "You go on, land where you can,
and come back to my help."
With his eyes fixed on the water below he was unconscious of anything
but the swirling flood, and the intense strain of searching the surface
as the aeroplane flashed by. Neither Bob nor Lawrence noticed the
movements of the two Kalmucks. They, as soon as they had fired their
shots, vaulted into the saddles of the horses that stood beneath a tall
rock, and dashed at headlong speed along the track towards the bridge.
The horses, urged by their riders, and terrified by the increasing sound
of the aeroplane rushing swiftly behind them, took the bits in their
teeth and galloped on, completely beyond control. They wheeled on to
the bridge. At this moment the aeroplane was only about two hundred
yards behind them, and Bob was intending to pass under the bridge. But
the weight of the horses was too much for the frail and clumsy
structure. It broke in the middle, and horses and riders plunged into
the river. Bob had just time to move his elevator and skim over the
confused mass of bridge, horses and men.
Only for a moment was Lawrence's attention diverted from his quest.
Hitherto he had fixed his eyes from a rapidly diminishing distance upon
the spot where his uncle had fallen, and the river beyond. Now he had
passed the spot itself, and in a few seconds covered the whole distance
down which, even allowing for the speed of the current, the body could
have been carried. There was no sign of it, and Lawrence felt with
horror and despair that the shot had been only too well aimed--that Mr.
Appleton had been killed outright, or so grievously wounded as to be
unable to keep himself afloat. He could not endure the suspense and
uncertainty.
"I am going in," he cried. "Come back for me."
To make a clean dive from the narrow seat of an aeroplane flying at the
rate of thirty miles an hour was impossible. It was a dangerous feat to
attempt at all, but Lawrence did not think of that. He fell rather than
plunged, at the imminent risk of striking a half-submerged rock in
mid-stream. The shock of hitting the water after a haphazard fall of
thirty feet was so great that for a time, even after he had risen to the
surface, he was too much dazed to be able to distinguish his
surroundings. With the instinct of a practised swimmer he trod water
until his senses returned to him. Then he saw that he was far below the
ruined bridge, and being rapidly carried down-stream. The aeroplane was
out of sight. Neither man nor beast was visible on either bank. The
Kalmucks must have clambered up the bank and taken to flight. He
realized that if his uncle was still in the river he must have overtaken
him before the dive was made. It was necessary to husband his strength,
and either try to swim against the stream, or make his way to some rock
on one side or the other, whence he could watch the current as it flowed
past him.
He turned, and for some time breasted the stream until he descried a
rocky shelf at the base of the right bank which would prove at once a
resting place and a convenient watch post. Nearly exhausted, he dragged
himself on to it, and crouched there, intent upon every billow and eddy
of the swollen river. Fed by the mountain snows, it flowed on with
turbulent tide. The water was bitterly cold, and Lawrence shivered as
he waited there minute after minute, hoping, yet dreading, to see his
uncle's form rolling past.