accompanied the little band as they rushed towards the river wall to
meet the storming party. They were no more than thirty; the track
swarmed with the enemy. The improvised bridge would not support more
than thirty at a time, so that the attackers and the defenders of the
wall were equal in point of number; but the Kalmucks had posted many
sharpshooters in the rocks above the track, who could fire over their
comrades' heads and pick off the garrison manning the wall and the gap
where the end of the drawbridge had been.
It was a fierce and terrible struggle hand to hand. The defenders could
deal only with the storming party; they had no leisure to attend to the
half-concealed marksmen among the rocks. With bayonet, clubbed rifle,
sword and miner's pick they sought desperately to stem the attack. Gur
Buksh had distributed the Sikhs among the miners to give them
steadiness; but the Pathans, inspired by the fury of their own leaders,
Fyz Ali and Muhammad Din, needed no encouragement from the disciplined
men. Shan Tai and Chunda Beg had thrown themselves into the fray with
picks. Of all the little community only Ditta Lai and the Bengali
servants remained in the rear; they were physically unfit to bear a part
in the great fight. It was much to their credit that, at this crisis in
affairs, they did not cower in frantic terror, but toiled hard to raise
a rampart of boxes, tins, and bags of earth opposite the mouth of the
gallery.
Regardless of the fusillade, Bob and Lawrence went from end to end of
the line, cheering the men, rallying them when they showed signs of
being forced back by the onrush of the yelling enemy. Again and again
the assault was beaten back. At one moment the end of the bridge was
heaped high with the men thrust back from the wall. The river received
many dead and wounded forms, and bore down some who, though unhurt, had
been hurled or jostled off the bridge. But the garrison were dropping
man by man. Gur Buksh, conspicuous by his height, fell to a bullet.
Ganda Singh fought on, though a bayonet had transfixed his arm. Fyz Ali
was shot as he was in the act of bringing the butt of his rifle down
upon the head of a big Kalmuck who was forcing his way through the
narrow gap into the compound. Bob, fainting from his former hurts, sank
down unconscious among his wounded men. As yet unscathed, Lawrence
stood in the gap, and the number of prostrate forms in front of him bore
witness to his unfaltering vigour. Next to him Fazl, whose low stature
rendered him immune from the sniping shots of the enemy, darted forth
whenever he saw an opportunity of using his kukuri, and sprang nimbly
back before he could be touched.
But Lawrence's heart sank as he saw his devoted little band becoming
less and less. He had no reserves. There was no limit to the number
that the enemy could throw against him. The crowd on the bridge never
diminished. As soon as one man fell his place was taken from behind.
From sheer exhaustion the defenders could not stem the torrent many
minutes longer. Their arms were aching and numbed almost to the point
of paralysis. The frequent alarms and broken rest of seven days and
nights were telling on their hardy frames. Lawrence, swinging his rifle
like a flail, expected at every stroke that his muscles would refuse to
lift the weapon for another. Missing Bob's cheering cries, he gave a
rapid glance round, and seeing his brother on the ground, he was just
making up his mind that the time had come for a general retreat to the
galleries, their last line of defence, when there came the sudden
crackle of rifles from a new direction. It was on the right. There was
a cheer, very different from the shrill cries of the Kalmucks, and then
confused cries all around. The firing from the rocks had ceased. At a
second volley the Kalmucks on the bridge halted in surprise and
hesitation. Lawrence guessed what had happened. Seizing the moment, he
shouted to his men to follow him, and springing from the wall, led them
in a fierce rush on to the bridge. They swept the enemy before them,
cutting down one, tumbling another into the stream.
On the track a disorderly terrified crowd were rushing past the bridge
towards the north, masking the fire of their own guns at the bend.
Behind them at a gallop came fifty sowars of the Border force, led by
Major Endicott himself. They swept on through the panic-stricken mob,
upon whom, as the horsemen passed, the garrison from their post on the
bridge opened a withering fire. Major Endicott and his troopers pushed
on and on, driving the enemy, some before them, some into the river,
some up the rugged hillside. They did not halt until they reached the
guns. There were a few minutes of desperate fighting about them; then
the gunners were cut down, and the swarms behind were in full flight
down the track. At a word from the Major half the sowars leapt from
their horses, slewed the guns round, and sent shell after shell among
the frenzied crowd until the whole track within sight was clear of
living men. And Bob woke to consciousness to hear his brother's voice
lead the men in a ringing cheer. The mine was saved; the enemy had been
held in check for a week; every man had done his duty.
CHAPTER THE TWENTY-NINTH
REUNION
Major Endicott left his men at the bend, and galloped back to the
bridge. Dismounting there, he pressed Lawrence's hand warmly.
"Well played, sir!" he said. "Where's your brother?"
"In the compound, Major. He's all right, I think: that is, he wasn't
hit this morning; but he was wounded yesterday, and is rather off
colour."
"The doctor will be up in a few minutes. He was just behind me; and
Fenton will arrive with the rest of the men and the guns in about an
hour. I pushed on ahead when I heard the bombardment."
"Just in time! We couldn't have held out another five minutes."
"I'm glad we managed it," said the Major simply.
"Come and see Bob. They've burnt our house, and we can't make you very
comfortable."
"My dear boy, comfort is ruin to a soldier. Ah! here's Coats; he'd
better have a look at your brother at once."
The doctor rode up with another score of troopers. These the Major
ordered to remain on guard at the bridge, in case the Kalmucks who were
still scattered here and there on the track and the hillside should show
any disposition to rally. Then the two officers crossed with Lawrence
into the compound. Bob had been carried back to his chair by Shan Tai
and the khansaman. The doctor made a brief examination of his wounds,
got out some lint and lotion, and as he bandaged him declared that he
would be quite sound in a few days. Then he went off to attend to the
other wounded--almost every man of the little company. Ten had been
killed outright; two were so severely injured that recovery was
hopeless; the rest would be well sooner or later. Among these were Fyz
Ali and Gur Buksh, though the Sikh's arm had to be amputated.
"I was never so glad of anything as I am to hand things over to you,
Major," said Bob.
Major Endicott was seated on an upturned box beside his chair, with a
biscuit in one hand and a hunk of corned beef in the other.
"Well, you know, I feel rather mean," he said munching. "Capital stuff,
this! ... All the credit is yours and Lawrence's, and I shan't fail to
say so. It's a thousand pities you are not both in the service. By the
way, I saw as I came up that your aeroplane had come to grief, and it
was a great relief to see Lawrence safe and sound."
"It wasn't ours," replied Bob, who then related in brief the events of
the previous day.
"That's amazing. Then I suppose Lawrence can still use your machine for
scouting if necessary?"
"We've no more petrol, unfortunately. What do you intend to do, then?"
"First of all secure our position here as soon as Fenton comes up.
We'll make it impossible for the enemy to get round that bend yonder.
Then we'll follow up the runaways and shepherd them out of the valley."
"There's such a lot of them, and you've so few!"
"But they can't extend on this narrow track, and my few will be a match
for them. They'll soon give it up as hopeless, and draw off to rejoin
their huge army operating in Afghanistan. This week's delay has been
our salvation. The Chief is moving up a large force to hold the passes
south, and our flank is secure--a handsome feather in your cap, my lad.
When I am sure that the valley is clear I shall return to the frontier,
and of course you and your men must come too. You won't want to hold on
here now that your poor uncle is gone?"
"No: we had already made up our minds to that."
"I don't want to be inquisitive, but--er--have you--in short, what's
your financial position, Bob?"
"I don't know. We had very little money, of course; everything in the
house is burnt, including Uncle's cheque book, and all his papers. I
don't know what he left, but I suppose there'll be no difficulty in
proving our title to what there is?"
"None at all, I should think, though I'm not up in law. You've got some
ore worked, of course; copper, isn't it? Pity it isn't gold."
"There's better than copper, at all events. There's a heap of unworked
ore in a cavity just beyond the compound, and Uncle said it's almost
pure silver."
"That's first-rate. I recommend you to set the men to get it up at
once. We'll transport it to India somehow or other, and I'm sure I hope
it'll make you millionaires."
"Not much chance of that," said Bob with a smile. "But it will give us
something to jog along with."
"You must be ready to start almost at once. We marched light; I've food
for only two or three days, and short commons at that. This corned beef
is very good: any more of it?"
"I'll inquire of my store-keeper. I haven't seen him lately: he wasn't
in the fighting line, and I dare say he's alive."
When Captain Fenton with the remainder of the relieving force arrived,
the men were set to work after a meal to render the track impassable. It
was fortified at the bend with a series of entrenchments and wire
entanglements, space being left only for horsemen to pass in single
file. Before the enemy had recovered from the shock of their reverse,
the position which had given them so much trouble when defended by a
mere handful of almost untrained men was rendered ten times more
formidable, and held by ten times as many trained troops. On the next
day they felt forward with their artillery, but being met by a hail of
shells from the mountain batteries, they soon withdrew their guns, and
finally turned their backs on the scene of their wasted labours.
Major Endicott followed them down the valley with the greater part of
his force, Lawrence accompanying him on one of the troopers' horses. He
took two guns in case they should turn at bay, but they showed the
utmost alacrity in retreating, and for many miles only the stragglers of
their rearguard were ever in sight. When the pursuers, however, were
within a short distance of the scene of Lawrence's little engagement on
the way back from the bridge, they noticed a number of Kalmucks marching
over the hills to the left. They were no doubt following the path by
which the Kalmucks on that occasion had managed to outflank Lawrence's
party. There being none of the enemy in sight along the track, Major
Endicott deemed it necessary to climb into the hills and pursue the
fugitives until he had made sure that no concentration was being
attempted.
He left half his party with the guns on the track to continue their
march, and began to climb. It was a breakneck path, narrow, tortuous,
and at times so steep that the troopers had to dismount and lead their
horses carefully. They made slow progress, and when the Major reached a
more level stretch and, looking through his field-glass, no longer saw
any sign of the enemy, he decided that it would be waste of time and
energy to follow any farther.
He had just given the order to retire when the figure of a man suddenly
appeared from the entrance of a ravine a few hundred yards ahead, and
walked towards the troop, holding his hands above his head. Thinking
that he was one of the enemy intending to surrender, the Major waited.
"I know that man," said Lawrence after a few moments. "He's an old
Uzbek fellow, who lives quite alone somewhere in these hills, no one
knows where. He comes to the mine at long intervals to buy food and
ammunition in exchange for the horns and skins of _Ovis poli_. I suppose
he's on his way there now."
"Can you understand his lingo?"
"No; my uncle was the only one of us who could talk to him."
The man approached. He was a strange object, the wrinkled skin of his
face yellow like old ivory, a ragged white beard hanging almost to his
waist. When he came up, he made some sort of salutation to Lawrence,
and another to the Major, then muttered the word _kuzur_.
"We all know what that means," said the Major; but he paused, struck by
an eager look in Lawrence's eyes as the old man made some pantomimic
gestures and pointed in the direction whence he had come. Lawrence
sprang from his horse.
"He wants me to go with him, Major," he said hurriedly. "I believe--I
hardly dare think it----"
He did not wait to complete the sentence, but followed the old man, who
was already walking back. They came to a narrow ravine, which wound
away into the hillside towards the river, always at a steep descent.
Passing along it, they came after some minutes to a well-built akoi,
around which several skins lay drying. The man led Lawrence to the
entrance, and motioned to him to go in.
The lad's heart was beating tumultuously. He paused a moment at the low
opening, shrinking lest what he was about to see were a culminating
spectacle of woe. In the middle of the tent there was a fire, the smoke
of which passed out through a hole in the dome-shaped roof. Crushing
down his agitation, he stepped in, his tread falling noiseless on a
floor of thick skin rugs. Just beyond the fire lay the still form of a
man. Holding his breath, Lawrence bent down, and looked upon the face of
his uncle, asleep.
Though his footsteps had been silent, the fact of his presence seemed to
penetrate the consciousness of the sleeping man. He opened his eyes.
"Ah, Lawrence," he said, "what is this I hear about great guns?"
Lawrence could not speak. He clasped his uncle's hand, and felt with a
kind of surprise that it was warm as his own.
"Poor old boy! I expect you've had a bad time," Mr. Appleton went on.
"But I couldn't let you know that I was all right."
"I can hardly believe it. It seems too good to be true. We'd long ago
given you up."
"Long ago! Why, goodness alive! how long have I been here then?"
And then Lawrence remembered that it was only a fortnight since that
unlucky pursuit of Nurla Bai.
"It seems an age," he said. "But how splendid it is, Uncle! Bob and
everybody will be simply wild with delight. You're not ill, are you?"
he asked, noticing that his uncle remained flat on his back.
"I'm never ill, as you know! But old What's-his-name is not much of a
surgeon, and I'm helpless with a broken thigh or something of the sort.
That rascal Nurla Bai only gave me a flesh wound, which is healed now;
but when I fell I came down too heavily on a rock beneath the surface,
and smashed myself. The old man happened to be fishing close by----"
"I remember: we found a fishing net when we were searching for you."
"I was carried within reach of him, and he drew me ashore to a cavern
under the cliff. Of course I was senseless, and the old man seems to
have been scared out of his wits by the aeroplane, or he would have
shown up when you were looking for me. Anyway, he carried me to this
place, which appears to be only a few feet above the bank, and here he
has looked after me ever since. When I came to myself, I explained what
had happened, and asked him to walk up to the mine to tell you that I
was alive. He went off, but returned with a story about a whole army
marching up, and fighting, and big guns, and what not. So I simply had
to make the best of it, though I knew that you must think me dead. Now,
what is this all about?"
"I'll tell you everything when I get you home, Uncle. Major Endicott is
here----"
"Thinks me mad, you know."
"With a lot of troopers, and they must sling up a horse-litter for you.
We've got Captain Coats at the mine--an army surgeon, you know; he'll
see what's really the matter with you."
"Any other strangers? Billeting is rather expensive. But I'm talking
nonsense. Get me out of this as soon as you like. It's a very
comfortable hut, but not like home, and I long to see old Chunda Beg's
serious phiz, and--yes, hear the Babu's chatter. And I want to
know----"
"Yes, there are heaps of things to explain," Lawrence interrupted.
"I'll run and tell the Major."
"And I say, in case I forget it, I promised to give old Stick-in-the-mud
a pound of tobacco when I got back. Remind me."
Lawrence hurried out, fearing that weakness had made his uncle rather
light-headed. On his acquainting the Major with his amazing discovery,
and explaining that the akoi appeared to be very near the river, the
order was at once given to return to the track. There they met the
other half of the party, who reported that the bridge down stream had
collapsed under the hurried flight of the enemy. Their rearguard had
evidently elected to try the difficult mountain track rather than risk
being caught.
Lawrence went down the track with the Major and two troopers, and were
soon met by the old Uzbek, whose name no one knew. He conducted them
along a narrow parting in the rocks till they reached his akoi. With
his aid a litter of skins was rigged up, and on this Mr. Appleton was
carried down to the track. There the litter was slung between two
horses, and the rest of the journey to the mine was accomplished slowly
indeed, but in comfort.
On the way Major Endicott, at Mr. Appleton's entreaty, gave him a
succinct account of what had happened during his absence.
"I wish I'd been there, egad!" he ejaculated, as he heard of his
nephews' gallant defence. "But no: they've had a chance to show what
stuff they're made of; my assistance would have ruined it. D'you still
think I'm mad, Endicott?"
"Well--perhaps a trifle light-headed--owing to your illness, you know,"
answered the Major in some confusion.
"That's not what I meant," said Mr. Appleton with twinkling eyes. "You
thought me chronically mad, fit for Bedlam. Oh! you needn't apologize:
all you frontier fellows did. 'Poor old Harry,' you know. 'Only a
madman would think of mining in the Hindu Kush!' But where would you
have been without the mine, eh? Where would you have been, the whole
dashed lot of you, without the mine and my young nephews? I tell you
what, sir, my mine has been the saving of India, and don't you forget
it."
"We shan't do that, Appleton, I assure you," said the Major, willing to
humour him.
"Yes; my mine, and one other thing: Bob's aeroplane. What you want, my
dear sir, to keep India safe, is a corps of air patrols, with Bob as
boss and Lawrence as second in command. We've got the finest navy in the
world: for its size we've got the finest army; and we ought to wake up
and get the finest air fleet, and the finest corps of airmen that can be
trained. That's my opinion."
There is no need to describe the scenes of wild excitement and
jubilation at the mine when Mr. Appleton was carried among his people.
The surgeon's report after examination of the fractured limb was a
surprise to everybody. He said that the old Uzbek, by skill or good
luck, had done just what an experienced surgeon would have done in the
absence of proper splints. The fracture was a simple one, the bone was
already joining up, and there would be no risk in conveying Mr. Appleton
in the horse-litter by easy stages to India.
Preparations for departure were hurried on. With the aid of the
troopers, the Pathans put up in a day a temporary shed for the
accommodation of the Englishmen. Then they set about hoisting the
silver ore from its cavity in the bank of the river to the compound
above. The transportation of twenty tons of ore over rough country
without suitable vehicles was a matter that gave everybody much concern.
It was ultimately decided that as much as possible should be carried by
the men and animals, the remainder being left, to be fetched
subsequently by a host of carriers whom Fyz Ali undertook to enlist.
Every man of the garrison was delighted with the promise of treble pay
for the fortnight of Mr. Appleton's absence, and Major Endicott did not
despair of extracting a grant from Government in recognition of their
services to the Empire.
On the night before the southward march was to be begun, the Englishmen
were provided by Shan Tai with a supper on which he lavished all the
resources of his art. Corned beef and other tinned comestibles appeared
in various disguises, and Mr. Appleton, reclining on his chair, mildly
expostulated with the Chinaman for deferring this triumphant exhibition
of his skill until the eve of the abandonment of the mine. Healths were
drunk in water and coffee, the only beverages available, and the
store-sheds having luckily escaped injury, Mr. Appleton was able to
offer his guests some excellent cigars.
When all were contentedly smoking, Mr. Appleton said:
"I want to take you men into my confidence, and ask your advice. As you
know, I have decided to close down here. I had already decided to do so
at the end of this summer: recent events have only anticipated it by a
few weeks."
"Congratulations," said Major Endicott. "I suppose you've made your
pile."
"A very modest pile. Sixty per cent. of that ore is pure silver, and it
will fetch something like L50,000. That of course I shall invest."
"Choose a good security," said the Major.
"No more hair-brained adventures, you mean! Really, Major, you must try
to disabuse your mind of the notion that I am mad. Now, I am going to
retire. Yesterday was my fifty-third birthday; I have knocked about
enough; my tastes are simple: and I've enough to live on apart from the
silver.
"You wonder, I dare say, why I brought my nephews out here only a few
months before the date I had fixed on for giving up the mine. I'll tell
you. I didn't know the boys, and wanted to study them at close
quarters, and see for myself what they were good for. I am quite
satisfied. The probation they have come through during the last few
days would convince any one."
"I should rather think so," said the Major emphatically.
"Well now, what do you advise? What shall I do with them?"
"Let 'em both join the service; I recommend that without hesitation,"
said the Major.
"Hear! hear!" Captain Fenton ejaculated.
"Would they have you back at Sandhurst, Bob?" asked his uncle.
"No need for that," exclaimed the Major. "The Chief will give him a
commission in the Indian army straight away when I've had a talk with
him."
"Will that suit you, Bob?"
"I couldn't wish for anything more splendid," said Bob, flushing with
pleasure.
"That's settled then. And you, Lawrence?"
"The same for him, of course," said the Major.
"It's uncommonly good of you," said Lawrence, "but--well, I'm not cut
out for a soldier."
"Rubbish, sir. I wish all my subalterns were like you."
"What's your notion then?" asked Mr. Appleton.
"Well, Uncle, I was going to Oxford, you know, but I'm afraid I shall be
too old for a scholarship next year, and--and it would cost too much
without."
Lawrence spoke awkwardly, colouring to the roots of his hair.
"You could manage on L400 a year, I suppose?" said Mr. Appleton, dryly.
"Much less, Uncle. I know a chap who did jolly well on L200, and
saved."
"What will you do when you come down? Take a clerkship at thirty
shillings a week, or teach little ruffians good cricket and bad Latin on
forty?"
"I thought of trying for the Indian Civil, Uncle. I should like it
immensely after being out here."
"Stiff exam, isn't it?"
"I can swat, sir."
"I believe you can! Well, I'm going to settle my silver money on Bob
and you." [Here there was what the reporters call a "sensation."] "It
should bring in L1500 a year even in the safest security. You shall
have L400 each until you're twenty-five; after that you'll share the
whole lot equally between you. Think I'm mad, Major?"
"I wish you'd bite an old uncle of mine," said the Major with a laugh.
"I congratulate you young fellows; you deserve it all."
The boys were overwhelmed with their good luck, and their uncle's
generosity. They stammered out their thanks; then, desiring to talk
things over quietly between themselves, they got up and went out.