India, and they wouldn't send an expedition out on behalf of an
obstinate crack-brained adventurer, as they regard him, who's no
business here at all. Poor old Uncle, when he settled here, knew very
well that he'd taken his life in his hands, and had only himself to rely
on. We've got to do everything ourselves."
"Couldn't you fly southward, and see if Major Endicott is within reach?"
"He's back in Rawal Pindi long ago. No, we can't expect any help. By
George! I thought I'd lost all chance of seeing some fighting; but it
looks now as if I'm to get a good deal more than I should have got if
I'd come out with a commission."
"You seem quite cheerful at the prospect. You're a born soldier, Bob."
"And we'll make you one before we've done with you, old man. It's all
clear, isn't it?"
"So far as I'm concerned. But there's one thing you don't appear to
have thought of: how are you going to alight on our ledge in the dark?"
"Is there no moon to-night?"
"Not till very late, I think; and in any case we get more shadow than
shine in the valley, unless the moon happens to be sailing directly
above."
"You're right. I hadn't given it a thought. It will be a ticklish job.
Owing to that bend the lights in the compound will be invisible from
beyond the ledge. But it's got to be done somehow; I'm glad you
mentioned it, because I don't think it would have occurred to me, and
now I can try to meet the difficulty."
"You won't start back till daylight, I suppose."
"No. If I find the coast clear when I've had a look down the river I
shall come back and drop here. If there are only a few of them we'll
wait for our reinforcements and then see if we can't drive them off:
that will give us another chance of searching for Uncle. On the other
hand, supposing a lot more have come up from the encampment--too many
for us to tackle--I'll show a red flag, and that'll be the signal for
making tracks at once. There's one thing I'd recommend. Get the
Pathans to take their horses a little further up-stream out of range. We
don't want them to be hit. It's a pity there's no herbage for the
beasts to feed on, their bags will be empty by the morning. Still,
they'll be back at the mine by midday to-morrow, all being well."
Dusk fell early upon the river. It was gloomy below even while the
mountain tops were still glistening in the glow of sunset, and the sky
was bright. At last, when the keenest-sighted of the little party could
see scarcely two hundred yards down the track on the opposite bank of
the stream, Bob decided that it was time to move. He ordered three of
the Pathans to creep cautiously out to the end of the bridge, and lie
down behind some flat rocks there, keeping a sharp look-out for the
appearance of the enemy. They gained their post without attracting
attention.
"By the way," said Bob, as he prepared to walk with Lawrence into the
open space on which the aeroplane lay, "you'll have to set a guard at
the bridge end all night. Let the men take it in turns, two at a time.
They're not used to doing sentry-go: I'm afraid you'll have to be with
them yourself. If I'd thought of it before you might have got some
sleep this afternoon. You mustn't let the enemy rush you."
"All right, I'll manage to keep awake. Hadn't we better try to clear
some of these stones away? Otherwise you won't get a very good run off."
"Yes, but we can't wait to clear the ground properly. Every minute
increases the risk of not getting away safely."
With the remaining two Pathans the boys moved quickly into the open
space, and carefully lifted the larger fragments of rock from a straight
stretch of about fifty yards. They were still engaged in this when the
Pathans at the bridge end opened fire. Their comrades instantly joined
them, and for some minutes the five men fired briskly across the river.
The sentries had discovered a number of the enemy creeping stealthily
along the track. Their fire was immediately answered, and bullets began
to whistle around, striking the rocks with a dull thud. In the gloom
both sides were firing almost at random. The Pathans, crouching behind
the rocks, escaped injury, and it was unlikely that they themselves had
done much damage among the enemy; but their fire had checked the
advance, and by the time that the Englishmen had sufficiently cleared
the course for the aeroplane the firing ceased.
"I hope you won't be bothered with them any more," said Bob as he got
into his seat.
He took his bearings. The aeroplane was facing down-stream. He would
have to rise many hundreds of feet before it would be safe to turn.
"They may fire at you and hit you before you're out of range," said
Lawrence.
"I must take my chance. Of course they'll see me against the sky if
they look up; but it will take them a few seconds at any rate to collect
themselves, and I shall be going so fast that I fancy they won't hit me
if they try. Here: take your rifle and cartridges. You'll keep strict
watch? Look for me in the morning. So long!"
He started the engine: Lawrence stood clear, and the aeroplane darted
forward obliquely towards the river. In a second or two it was
completely lost to sight, so dense had the darkness become. But in a
few seconds more it could be seen like a shadow against the sky, a
quarter of a mile down the river and several hundred feet above. There
were faint shouts in the distance. The enemy's attention must have been
attracted, first by the hum, then by the sight of the strange machine as
it soared higher and higher. But there was no sound of firing, and
Lawrence breathed freely when he knew that his brother had escaped this
first danger. A few minutes later he saw the aeroplane at a great
height, sailing rapidly towards the mine.
On running off, Bob adjusted his elevator for the steepest possible
ascent in a direct line; the gorge was too narrow to allow of a spiral
ascent. He felt that he was starting on a race with the darkness. He
had never attempted a flight by night in these regions, and he hoped by
rising high to use the last radiance of sunset in shaping his course.
Within about half an hour he should arrive at the mine. But he was a
good deal more concerned than he had allowed Lawrence to see, at the
problem which would face him at the end of his flight. The situation of
the mine would be revealed by the camp fires of the labourers on the
right bank, and the lights about the various outhouses on the left. But
there were no lights on the landing platform beyond, and this, together
with all the lower part of the gorge, was already blotted out by the
darkness. It would be impossible, however gently he should glide down,
to hit the exact position of the platform; and to attempt a landing at
random would be madness.
Bob felt much worried as he flew on in the fading light, with an immense
black abyss beneath him. The approach of the aeroplane would certainly
be heard at the mine, but probably no one would be quick-witted enough
to understand his difficulty. It might never occur to them that the
darkness would render a landing impossible. Bob suspected that not even
Ditta Lal, B.A. of Calcutta University though he was, would be alive to
the position. Puzzle as he might, he could not hit upon any solution of
the problem, and at length ceased to think about it, hoping that chance
or some lucky inspiration, some circumstance that he had not taken into
account, would point the way in due time.
The night was calm and windless, and the engine worked well, so that his
mind was not harassed by any anxiety about the aeroplane. His body was
less comfortable. The air was bitterly cold; he had put on his thick
wadded coat and gloves, but his hands were numbed, and more than once he
rubbed his nose to prevent it from freezing. He was glad to think that
his journey was to be a short one. A little more than half an hour
after he started, he discerned the lights of the settlement far away
twinkling like glowworms at the bottom of a ditch. He waited a few
minutes to make sure of his bearings, then began a gradual descent,
looking about him warily as he sank lower in order to avoid grazing a
jutting crag where the gorge narrowed. The lights became more distinct:
he was able to separate those on his left, in the miners' quarters, from
those on the right, in the dwelling houses and the quarters of the
garrison. Presently he could just distinguish, in the diffused glow,
the river flowing between, and he steered directly for this, so as to
pass over the drawbridge. Having shut off the engine for the descent,
his approach had probably escaped notice hitherto; but he started it
again as soon as he came within thirty or forty feet of the bridge; the
sound was immediately heard, and within a minute the whole settlement
was aroused. The miners poured from their huts; all the Sikhs of the
garrison turned out; the servants left their outhouses, talking shrilly;
and even the Babu, who, as he often did, had retired to rest at sundown,
was wakened by the noise, and rolling out of bed, threw on a warm
dressing-gown of European cut, and toddled out to welcome his master and
tender any advice that the occasion seemed to call for.
Meanwhile Bob had flown past, utterly bewildered, and not a little
alarmed. He knew the gorge well, but never having before made a trip
through it by night, he was in a state of nervous terror lest he should
lose his bearings and come to grief. The darkness was intense, redeemed
from solid black only by a very faint reflection from the water. It was
quite impossible to see the landing platform as he sped past, but when
he arrived at the first spot at which turning was possible, he had a dim
hope that, flying in the opposite direction, he might be able to see the
platform in the diffused light of the camp-fires, in spite of the bend
of the gorge. But in this he was disappointed. Not only were most of
the lights intercepted by the bulging cliff, but all of them, being
below its level, gave no illumination at all for the surface on which
the descent must be made.
Bob flew back again, over the bridge, and into the blackness beyond.
The men cheered enthusiastically as he passed; even the Kalmucks, though
they supposed that Nurla Bai had been caught, were moved to a certain
admiration. Bob got no comfort from the cheers. His hands were so numb
that he could scarcely control his levers, and he had the frightful
feeling that he must continue to sail up and down indefinitely, like a
swallow that has strayed into a church, and flies swiftly back and forth
until it becomes dizzy and dashes itself against the wall. He had to go
nearly seven miles before he durst turn again. On coming to the bridge,
he shouted at the top of his voice, asking that some one would take a
light to the platform. But his words were unheard amid the din, and the
crowd on the banks, taking his cry for a greeting, responded with even
louder cheers.
Again he flew on up-stream, a second time he came to the wheeling place,
and was nerving himself to attempt a landing without guidance in the
dark when, as the machine came round, he saw a sudden burst of flame in
the distance at a spot where no light had been before. It brightened
moment by moment, and he thrilled with relief as he discerned, to the
left of the blaze, the dim outlines of the shed in which he was
accustomed to keep his tools and other accessories. Some one, perhaps
the Babu, he thought, had had the presence of mind to guess at his
dilemma. He steered straight for the light, which he now distinguished
as a large fire kindled on the rocky buttress projecting into the
stream. It illuminated the whole of the landing place, and he knew that
by once more passing down and up, and ascending to a sufficient height,
he could time his downward glide so as to come gently to rest at the
desired spot. Twenty minutes later he tottered from his seat on to the
platform, almost to fall into the arms of little Fazl, the Gurkha.
"Salaam, sahib," said the man. "I knew the trouble. The sahib is very
tired."
"Dead beat, and half frozen," said Bob. "You must help me back to the
compound; my legs are stiff."
Fazl assisted him along the cantilever pathway, midway in which they met
several of the garrison who were coming, somewhat late, to assist in the
landing. At the end of the pathway, in the compound, there was a group
consisting of Ditta Lal, Chunda Beg, Gur Buksh and one or two more, who
stepped forward to welcome Bob; but when they noticed his worn features
and stiff movements, and the absence of Mr. Appleton and Lawrence, the
words of congratulation died on their lips.
"Where is the huzur?" asked one.
"Is all well, sahib?" said Chunda Beg.
"Sir, has fortune proved unkind?" murmured the Babu.
"Go to the house; I will tell you all there," said Bob. "Havildar,
silence those noisy ruffians on the other side. Tell them nothing.
Chunda Beg, get me some brandy: I am half dead. All of you, don't talk.
I want Gur Buksh, and you, Ditta Lal, to come to the house in a quarter
of an hour. I shall be all right then, and I've a great deal to say to
you. You, Fazl, go back to the aeroplane, give it a thorough cleaning,
and fill the tanks. Thanks for your thoughtfulness in lighting the
fire."
"Ah, sir, he stole a march on me," said the Babu. "If I had not been
lapped in slumber, inspiration would have made me busy. But Fazl did
very well--very well, that is, for a man without a degree, hall-mark of
acumen, sir."
CHAPTER THE TENTH
A FATEFUL DISCOVERY
It was an oddly assorted conclave that met in Mr. Appleton's dining-room
a little later. Bob had had a hot bath and a large bowl of coffee,
which, Chunda Beg--not partial to stimulants--assured him, would do him
more good than brandy. He sat now muffled in his dressing-gown in an
armchair before the stove, his legs and feet swathed in blankets. On
one side stood the tall dignified old Sikh Gur Buksh, straight as a
dart, his face grave, his hands clasped upon the hilt of his sword,
whose point was on the floor. Between Bob and the havildar sat Ditta
Lal, who had requested permission to seat himself, on the ground that he
was one of those "who fardels bear."
"In other words, sir," he said, "I turn scale at eighteen stone, and too
much standing on pins is one of many causes of varicosity according to
little homoeopathic vade-mecum."
Bob was apt to be impulsive, but he had determined to give no
information on his side until he had learnt how things had gone at the
mine during the day. He asked Gur Buksh to report.
"I have done what the huzur said, sahib," declared the havildar in deep
measured tones. "No work has been done to-day. We have kept the Pathans
and the Kalmucks apart. They have reviled each other; blood has been
hot, and I feared they would use their guns upon each other; but some of
my men have patrolled the ground between them, and kept the peace."
"You have done well," said Bob; "though if the men had been kept at work
they could not have got into mischief."
Gur Buksh pointed out, however, that it would not have been safe to
allow the miners to cross the bridge. They would certainly have come
into collision, and with guns, picks and hammers in their possession
they could have overwhelmed the little garrison if it had come to
fighting at close quarters.
"Very well," said Bob. "Now I have grave news for you. We overtook
Nurla Bai and his man nearly fifty miles down the river. As we flew
over them one of them fired and hit the Burra Sahib, who fell into the
stream."
"Hai! hai!" ejaculated the Babu. Gur Buksh was mute.
"We wheeled round as soon as we could, to look for the Burra Sahib. We
could not find him. Either he was mortally wounded and sank to the
bottom" (the Babu groaned), "or he was washed down and fell into the
hands of the enemy, for the two ruffians had joined a band of Kalmucks
who had come up from an encampment we had previously seen on the plateau
some miles farther on. We came down and landed the aeroplane just above
the bridge, and walked a long way down the track. We saw no sign of the
Burra Sahib, and were chased by the Kalmucks on horseback, and only
escaped because the Pathans had arrived in our absence, and opened fire
from an ambush behind the rocks. They could not cross, because the
bridge was broken by Nurla Bai and Tchigin galloping across it; my
brother and I had to swing ourselves over the river by the single rope
that was left uninjured."
"Hai! Wonders will never cease!" murmured the Babu.
Bob related the incidents of the afternoon, and explained the
impossibility of removing the aeroplane until nightfall, and the
arrangements he had made with Lawrence.
"We cannot help believing that the Kalmucks intend to attack the mine,"
he said in conclusion. "To-morrow morning I shall fly back, and send all
the Pathans to join their mates. If I should find that the enemy have
gone, we shall renew the search for the Burra Sahib. If they are a band
we can tackle, we shall drive them off, or at any rate hold our ground
there. But if, as I fear, they are but an advanced guard of the larger
force we saw at the encampment, we can do nothing but return here and
defend ourselves."
There was silence. Ditta Lal had for some time ceased to make any
sound; if Bob had not been so much preoccupied with his thoughts he
would have noticed that the Babu was looking exceedingly uneasy. Gur
Buksh stood like a statue.
"Now what are we to do, havildar?" said Bob. "Can we defend the mine?"
"We can but try, sahib."
"As soon as it is light I want you to do all you can to strengthen the
position. The northern wall must be fortified. There are plenty of
empty provision bags in your stores, I believe, Babu?"
Ditta Lal started, and looked at his questioner vacantly.
"Pardon, sir, my mind was busy with great problems, and I did not catch
what fell from your lips."
"I asked if you had plenty of empty bags in your storehouse."
"Heaps; a regular lot of them, sir."
"You must fill them with earth, havildar, and pile them against the
wall. Make an embrasure in the middle for the machine gun."
"What, sir?" said the Babu, surprised.
"I forgot: you did not know about it. In the little chamber behind the
house there is a machine gun, with plenty of ammunition. We will get it
out in the morning."
"It is good, sahib," said the havildar.
"You knew about it?" said Bob, catching a curious expression on the
Sikh's countenance.
"I knew about it, sahib. I saw the parts unpacked."
"And locked your knowledge in your silent bosom," said the Babu, with an
aggrieved look. "That was cruelty to animals, sir. With knowledge of so
ingenious a weapon of defence we should all have slept more securely in
our beds."
"All this must be done as quietly as possible," continued Bob, ignoring
the Babu's indignant protest. "We must try not to let the Kalmucks on
the other side know that anything out of the ordinary is going on."
"That will not be easy, sahib," said the havildar.
"Perhaps not, but you must do the best you can. I said just now that I
would send all the Pathans down the river, but you will want some of
them to work. Will they be loyal?"
"The huzur is their father, sahib. They will fight for him and for you.
To them the Kalmucks are sons of pigs."
"How is Muhammad, by the way?"
"His wound is healing; he will be well to-morrow--well enough to fight
the Kalmucks."
"I will see him in the morning. I am rather troubled as to what to do
with the Kalmuck miners. They will side with their countrymen if they
come up in force, and every man extra will add to our difficulties."
"The sahib should send them away," said Gur Buksh.
"But we can't send them down-stream until my brother comes back, and
that's their natural way. They won't go without their arms, and
Lawrence Sahib and the Pathans might be attacked then on both sides; and
they would certainly refuse to go in the opposite direction, away from
their homes."
"Permit me to interpose, sir," said Ditta Lal, who had for some time
taken no part in the discussion. "I have suggestion for cutting Gordian
knot. Many years ago, sir, my uncle, member of celebrated Hunza Nagar
expeditionary force, made proposal which, if taken at the flood, would
have led to fortune. British force would have triumphed over dastardly
foes, and many valuable lives would have been saved to honour and glory
of king and country."
"Cut it short, Babu," said Bob. "What is your proposal?"
"Perpend, sir. Our friend and comrade Gur Buksh will cross bridge--or
better Shan Tai--gather Kalmucks about him, and offer to beguile tedium
of inaction by great feast, Chinese delicacies, stews and all that,
regular blow out. While he engages Kalmucks in this artless
conversation, make mouths water galore, one of noble garrison steals
behind their backs into huts, inserts dynamite and fuse into walls, and
retires with careful slowness, as if nothing was up, and he were merely
strolling for constitutional. Then in midst of jollification huts all
blow up like one o'clock, and scoundrels wallow in their gore."
"That was your uncle's suggestion, was it?" said Bob.
"That was it, sir, and my respected uncle was hurt in inmost soul when
advice was contumeliously rejected. Such was his military ardour that
he had made profound study of all books extant on art of war and duty of
soldiers, and he assured me with tears welling out of dove-like eyes
that nowhere did he find regulation forbidding adoption of artful
dodge."
"Well, you'd better follow his example--only weep quietly."
"My word is this, sahib," said Gur Buksh. "Wait until Lawrence Sahib is
back; then send the Kalmucks away. They will join their friends; who
can resist Fate? we must fight them all. And I say too, sahib, send
some of the Pathans this night to join Lawrence Sahib. They will go
with great gladness of heart."
"That's a good idea. They will get to him before I start in the
morning. But how can we get them off without making the Kalmucks
suspicious? Some one would have to cross the bridge to give them
orders. The bridge can't be let down without a good deal of noise, and
that would certainly bring them out to see what was going on."
The havildar thought for a minute, then suggested that Bob in his
company should pay a visit of inspection to each of the camps. Mr.
Appleton had several times done this at night, and if Bob were to make
his inspection as formal in appearance as possible, nothing would be so
likely to lull their suspicions. To this proposal Bob agreed. He
dressed quickly, and in a few minutes left the house, with the havildar
marching behind.
They visited the Kalmuck camp first, going from hut to hut, in which the
men were engaged in various games. Some of them looked up in stolid
silence as the sahib glanced round, uttered a word or two, and passed
on. Others were sufficiently curious to ask what was happening down the
river, and why the huzur had not returned. Bob fenced with their
questions, and when he left them felt that he had only heightened their
curiosity, even though he had given no sign that anything was amiss.
Then, to keep up the pretence, he went to the stables, finally crossing
to the Pathan camp, where he found a still more eager curiosity.
Calling out the man who was next in authority to the wounded Muhammad,
he told him quietly what he wished him to do, without informing him of
the disappearance of Mr. Appleton. The man was delighted with the
opportunity of leading a night march against the hated Kalmucks. A
sudden and secret raid is the breath of life to a Pathan. He selected a
dozen men to accompany him. Gur Buksh, without attracting attention,
supplied them with arms, better than their own, from the mine armoury;
and before nine o'clock they left their camp stealthily, making their
way in single file up the hill path that skirted the Kalmuck quarters.
Bob and the havildar returned to their own side of the gorge and waited
anxiously to assure themselves that the movement was not detected by the
Kalmucks. The place at which the Pathans must descend to join the track
was something less than two hundred yards north of the Kalmuck camp, and
if one of them chanced to set a stone rolling, or struck his rifle
against the rock, the sound would almost certainly be heard below. But
not a click disturbed the stillness; no sound was added to the rustle of
the river; and after waiting at the end of the drawbridge for about half
an hour, Bob concluded that the men had reached the track safely, and
returned with the havildar to the house.