CHAPTER THE TWENTY-THIRDCAPTURING A GUNThe aeroplane with Lawrence and the Gurkha on board was soon flying down the river, at a much greater height than usual--a wise precaution on Lawrence's part, as was proved in a few moments. Even before it came above the bend it was assailed with a volley, and as it passed Bob was alarmed at the continuous crackle of rifles. It lasted only half a minute, but it was so loud as to smother altogether the hum of the propeller, and he almost repented of having allowed his brother to go when he realised the danger to which he was exposed. He had lost sight of the aeroplane; the fusillade had ceased; and the only indication, and that a negative one, that the machine and its occupants had not been brought to the ground was the absence of clamour beyond the bend. If the enemy had been successful, he thought, surely they would have hailed their triumph with shouts of delight.Reassured by the comparative silence, he remained behind the parapet, and informed Gur Buksh of his intention to reoccupy the breastwork on the farther bank."It is well, sahib," said the veteran quietly."Will the men follow me?" asked Bob anxiously."To the jaws of the pit, sahib. Where the sahib leads they will follow: even the men who ran away are now eager to wipe out their disgrace.""Then I will go and form my party. We shall not move until the chota sahib gives a signal."He found that the havildar had spoken truly. There was no lack of volunteers. He soon arranged his little party of twenty, and posted them in the shelter of the wall until the time should come for letting down the bridge and leading them across it.The minutes passed very slowly. Lawrence would not think it necessary to push his reconnaissance as far as the enemy's encampment. He might perhaps fly thirty miles, and then return. This would take something less than an hour. If he should discover the field guns within a short distance of the mine, the explosion of his bombs might be expected much earlier.Half an hour passed. There had been no sound from up stream; no sign of activity among the enemy. Bob began to feel more hopeful. They had apparently met with great obstacles to the passage of the guns. He was momentarily expecting to hear the hum of the returning aeroplane when, with a suddenness that took him all aback, there was a tremendous roar, followed in a second or two by a terrific crash just beyond the Pathan compound. Turning in consternation to discover the cause of it, he saw a great mass of the cliff falling amid a cloud of dust and smoke upon the wooden pathway, and plunging into the river beneath. Such destruction could only be the effect of a shell. Beyond doubt one at least of the field guns had been brought into position behind the enemy's breastwork at the bend.This fact filled him with as much dismay as amazement. It was not surprising that the enemy had placed their gun without his knowledge. They would, of course, have been careful to mask it until they were ready to open fire. But why had Lawrence or the Gurkha not seen it? Could it be that the aeroplane had been damaged and brought down after all?While he was in a painful state of anxiety, there was another roar, and a second shell burst on the cliff, just beyond the Pathan gallery. He ran to the northern wall and peered through one of the loopholes. Smoke hung above the enemy's breastwork, but there was not a man to be seen, so that rifle fire was useless. He ordered Gur Buksh to fire the machine gun. The havildar's aim was good; chips of rock flew from the breastwork; and Bob thought he saw the muzzle of a gun disappear. His attention was immediately drawn from it by the sight of the aeroplane flying round the bend, and with the thrill of relief at his brother's safety came the expectation of hearing an explosion and seeing signs of havoc about the breastwork. But the aeroplane flew high over the scene, passed it, and disappeared up the river. There had been no explosion. Why had not Lawrence dropped a bomb?Hardly had he asked himself this question when a third shell burst from the breastwork. It was better aimed than the other two. Instead of striking the cliff, it hit the northern wall of the compound, carrying away several yards of the metal parapet, scattering jagged fragments of iron and stone in every direction, then flew over the heads of the garrison and plunged into the earthwork at the southern boundary of the compound, within a few yards of the spot where the sortie party were gathered. Bob was almost at his wits' end. No defences could withstand a bombardment at such close quarters. None of the garrison had as yet been wounded, but he could see by their cowering attitude and the terror written upon their faces that their courage had been shocked out of them. Only Gur Buksh and the other Sikhs stood immovable at their posts.A few minutes after the report of the gun, the aeroplane again came flying down stream. Lawrence, then, had not landed. Bob was in a maze of bewilderment. But he was suddenly aroused from his stupor by a sharp detonation. It was not the report of a gun. Then there were loud cries and yells from the direction of the enemy, and looking through the loophole he saw a smother of dust above the breastwork. Lawrence had dropped a bomb at last, and again was out of sight.This was to have been the signal for the sortie; but after what had happened Bob felt that it would be sheer madness to lead his men along a stretch of the track commanded by the field guns. He doubted, indeed, whether their courage would face the task. It was only common prudence to wait for a second signal. He could not see what damage the bomb had done; whether it had only temporarily frightened the enemy. But Lawrence would not hesitate to hurl another bomb among them; and believing that, guns or no guns, they must be demoralized if attacked a second time from the air, Bob hastened across the compound, ordered the bridge to be lowered, and went to the twenty men huddling under cover of the wall.[image]LAWRENCE DROPS A BOMBHe allowed no trace of mental perturbation to show itself in his bearing."The time has come!" he said quietly to the men. "Lawrence Sahib is driving the enemy away. There are no more shots from their gun, you see. We shall soon hear another explosion; then you will follow me, and in five minutes we shall be masters of our breastwork."Ganda Singh, who was among the party, translated his words to the men. The cessation of gun fire and Bob's confident manner somewhat restored their courage. They formed up, grasping their weapons nervously, and waited in panting eagerness, mingled with trepidation, for the expected signal.It seemed a long time in coming. Bob knew that Lawrence had had to fly several miles down stream before he could turn. It came at last. Again sounded the sharp crash; again the air was filled with cries, in which there was no note of triumph: and Bob, with a cheery "Now, my men!" dashed across the bridge with the swarthy mountaineers at his heels. Reaching the other side, they turned to the left and raced across the open space formerly occupied by the miners' huts. Bob was only half conscious that the aeroplane was flying in the opposite direction high above his head. They were met neither by shells nor by bullets, and only when they sank breathless behind the shelter of the breastwork did a few rifle shots patter around them. Then all was quiet again.Whatever the cause of the astonishing delay on Lawrence's part, his intervention now had been effectual, at any rate for a time. How far effectual? Bob wondered. He got up and looked over the parapet towards the enemy's breastwork a hundred yards away. They had apparently deserted it. Some, no doubt, had been slain by the explosions. Had the survivors fled in panic far away, or were they merely lying low beyond the bend? Then his eye caught what had escaped his observation from the greater distance of the compound wall. There were two embrasures a foot or two below the top of the breastwork, contrived by removing some of the loose rocks. But he saw no sign of guns. Perhaps the enemy in their retirement had dragged with them the one which had fired.He heard the hum of the aeroplane again. Lawrence had still not landed, but was returning, perhaps to observe the extent of his work, perhaps to complete it. He was flying much lower than before. A sudden idea flashed into Bob's mind. The enemy's breastwork was only a hundred yards distant. Why not attempt to rush it under cover of the aeroplane; and if in the hurry of their flight they had left their gun, capture it and bring it to the mine?His thought had hardly crystallized into a resolution when he heard two explosions in rapid succession, followed by yells and one or two rifle shots. The sound seemed to come from some distance beyond the bend. His mind was made up. He told Ganda Singh his intention, and could scarcely wait while the havildar translated his orders. The men responded with a "Hai! hai!" of delight. Like Bob himself they were worked up to a high pitch of excitement. Their rush had been successful. The risks were forgotten, or remembered only to be scorned. They were twenty against an unknown number, but none counted the odds. "Hai! hai!" they shouted, as their leader leapt round the angle of the entrenchment. They followed close upon him as he dashed over the intervening hundred yards of broken ground. No one faltered. In less than half a minute they were in possession of the enemy's breastwork, and at that instant there was another explosion far down the track.Bob's glance fell first upon a score of prostrate forms scattered on the ground in the neighbourhood. Then with a thrill of delight he saw two field guns. One had been struck from its carriage, and lay near the brink of the stream. The other had apparently been withdrawn from its embrasure, but abandoned under the demoralizing shock of an explosion. Bob ran to the first. A moment's inspection showed him that it was irretrievably ruined. Calling two of the men, with their aid he toppled it into the river. The other was still workable. Looking around, he spied near the breastwork a number of shells which had escaped destruction by the bombs."Can you fire a gun?" he asked Ganda Singh eagerly."I am a gunner, sahib.""Then slew it round. We'll turn it on the enemy."He had remarked a number of the Kalmucks collected on the track some distance away. As he spoke, bullets began to whistle around, and two of his men were hit. Quickly the gun was turned round. Ganda Singh discovered that it was already loaded, and in another few seconds a shell sang on its deadly flight towards the enemy. They fled, to be pursued by another shell as soon as Ganda Singh could reload; and with this second shot the track was cleared for half a mile down stream. And then the aeroplane came whirring past overhead.As he watched it, Bob became aware that the afternoon was drawing towards evening. In an hour the valley would be gloomy, in two hours it would be shrouded in darkness. For the present, while daylight lasted, there was little fear of the enemy attacking. They would not face their own gun backed by the machine gun of the garrison. But he felt that with the fall of night the circumstances would be changed. His feeble searchlight scarcely illuminated the space between the bridge and the bend; beyond the bend it gave no light whatever. In the darkness the enemy might creep up to within a short distance of their captured breastwork and carry it with a determined rush, in spite of the gun. It was true that the narrowness of the track would allow the approach of only a few men abreast; but they could be supported by a constant succession of reinforcements, coming up like waves of the sea until the defenders were worn out. It seemed to Bob the prudent course to withdraw his men and the gun to the mine, and place the latter in position beside the machine gun. However, it was bad tactics to abandon a defensive position before retirement was absolutely necessary, so he decided to remain where he was for a little while longer, in the hope that Lawrence would land and, joining him, explain the actual condition of affairs down stream.About a quarter of an hour after the aeroplane had passed, Bob saw Lawrence running down the track towards him."That's what I hoped you would do," were Lawrence's first words as they met. "Capture the guns, I mean.""Yes, we've got one: the other's ruined and in the river. But we've had a narrow escape from being battered to pieces. Why didn't you begin bombing before?""I'll tell you. We were pretty well peppered, as you saw, when we flew past here down stream. It may have been because that bothered us, and Fazl was hit--I didn't know it at the time--that we didn't see the guns they had dragged up. Or perhaps it was because they are so like the rocks in colour--and we didn't expect they'd be here already. Anyway, we didn't see them, and it makes me mad to think what a squeak you've had. Ioughtto have seen them.""That's bosh! it's precious difficult to see anything at that speed. But go on.""We saw the men, of course, but we were soon out of range. The planes are simply riddled.""Fazl not much hurt, I hope?""No: the bullet went through the fleshy part of his arm, and he didn't say a word about it till we landed just now. On our way down we saw several teams of ponies at different parts of the track, bringing grub up, no doubt; and several bodies of mounted troops on the march; but never a sign of the guns. I flew on till we came to the place where the Major and I saw them: then thinking I must have missed them, I turned back. You may imagine how I felt when, about two miles away, I suppose, I heard the first shot. It's so different from the sound of the machine gun that I couldn't mistake it. I told Fazl to get ready to drop a bomb as soon as we came up to the guns. He did so, but I didn't hear an explosion. He yelled out that it had fallen into the river, but of course we were past before there was time to shy another. I came back as quickly as I could, and my heart was in my mouth when I saw smoke in the compound. Luckily Fazl's next shots were better, and jolly glad I am that we managed to stampede the fellows and give you a chance.""You were just in time, old man. They did more damage to the cliff than to us, though.""Yes: the path is simply heaped with rubbish. Coming back it was like scrambling over shingle. But a few hours' work will clear the lot away. Now what's the next thing?""As it's getting dusk I propose to withdraw the gun to the mine. But we must hold this breastwork as long as we can, and it occurs to me that if we alter its angle a little we can enfilade it from our own breastwork when it becomes necessary to fall back on that. It will still protect us from attack down stream, owing to the bend.""Isn't it worth while to block up the track again?""It would use up too much dynamite. Our stock is getting appallingly low. We may want it all for bombs. Besides, if we block up the track farther down we shan't see our enemy.""But I can always scout in the aeroplane.""You forget that our petrol isn't unlimited. I had a look in the shed this morning, and there isn't much left. The paraffin you brought only replaced what you lost from the leaky cans. We shall have to economize now, and use the aeroplane only when we must.""Very well then. If you see about altering the breastwork I'll get the gun dragged in. And there are these poor wounded wretches. Their moans are horrible. What can we do for them?""We mustn't take them into our compound. We haven't food enough to support prisoners. I have it! We'll send off the Kalmuck prisoners we've got, and tell them that they can bring up a dozen of their friends under flag of truce to carry off their wounded. That'll relieve us of all responsibility. And now let's get to business. We haven't too much time."These arrangements were duly carried out. While Lawrence escorted the gun to the mine, Bob set the men to pull down the breastwork, and re-construct it so that it stood almost perpendicular to his own entrenchment a hundred yards up stream. In its new position it would be of very little use to the enemy should they re-capture it, for on whichever side of it they happened to be, they would be swept by the fire of the men posted at the other.By the time the work was completed darkness had fallen. Then Lawrence dismissed the Kalmuck prisoners as he had suggested, and followed them to the breastwork to have a final consultation with his brother."I'll hold on here until midnight," said Bob. "I had a good sleep during the day. Tell Ganda Singh to train the captured gun on the bend; if there's an attack he and Gur Buksh can play on the track and cover our retirement.""I'm not sure whether it wouldn't be better to bring it out again and place it behind our entrenchments.""No, that would never do. The searchlight isn't powerful enough to be of much good; and the position might be rushed before the gun could come into play. It's too valuable for us to risk that. It would be a very different matter if we had enough men to hold the breastwork and really dispute the advance of the enemy. We can't do that. If they seriously push their attack we shall have to evacuate the position and bolt for the mine, and the gun would only be a hindrance. Now you get back. Send over some food for us, and then go to bed.""I shan't take my clothes off. Don't hold on too long, Bob, if they do come up.""Don't be nervous, young 'un. We've had uncommon good luck so far, and I'm inclined to think the enemy won't be in a hurry to tackle us. Those bombs must have been a horrid surprise to them. We may congratulate ourselves on a good day for the first, anyhow."CHAPTER THE TWENTY-FOURTHA CHECKThe night passed undisturbed. Bob was almost sorry. As the slow hours crept towards midnight, when Lawrence would relieve him, he would have welcomed an opportunity for action. It was bitter cold. He dared not kindle a watch-fire, and so enlighten the enemy about his arrangements. Remembering Lawrence's similar vigil forty miles down, he said to himself: "The kid's a good plucked one. He'd have made a first-rate soldier, or political officer, or anything. Pity we're both so hard up!"Suddenly he bethought himself of the mass of ore which had been tumbled into the cavity in the bank just above the Pathan miners' compound. It must weigh many tons, and according to Mr. Appleton's calculations, sixty per cent. of it was pure silver. Bob did not know the market price of the metal, but the quantity that had been mined must represent a considerable sum of money. The exciting incidents of the last few days had kept his thoughts engrossed with strategy and tactics; and the notion that the mine was itself a valuable property, worth defending for its own sake, came almost with a shock of surprise."Who is the owner now?" he thought. "Did Uncle leave a will? I suppose we are his heirs, but what's the law of inheritance in these parts?"And then the recollection of his uncle's recent death caused a revulsion of feeling. It was quite unreasonable to shrink from the thought of benefiting by Mr. Appleton's decease; but affection and high-minded instinct sometimes get the better of reason, and he dismissed the subject, still with a vague hope that his uncle would even yet return to his own.At midnight Lawrence came with a squad of men to relieve him."All's well then?" he said."Yes; I haven't heard a murmur.""Well, cut off and get a sleep. I'm good for a spell till daylight. Shan Tai has given me a splendid feed. We're lucky in our men, Bob. As I was eating I overheard Shan Tai talking with Chunda Beg. 'What you tinkee?' says Shan Tai. They'd evidently been discussing the situation. 'I say not one of the dogs will ever poke his nose within our walls,' said the khansaman. 'When the huzur told me that two boys were coming to live here I was sick in mind. Some of the Feringhi boys call us niggers, and speak to us as if we were mud. Our sahibs are not so. They do not sniff and curse and use us as if we were beasts and not men. What say you, cook man?' 'Say what you say allo lighto,' says Shan Tai. 'Likee young massa plenty muchee. Big lot fightee men come all-same. No can fightee big lot long time.' 'Wah!' says Chunda. 'The two sahibs are worth thousands of those dogs of Kalmucks, and if Allah keeps them alive we shall smite and smite until the Sirkar sends help. Only give them good food, cook man.' 'Makee chow-chow first-chop,' says Shan Tai, and the old chap gave a chuckle. He's a jolly good sort."Lawrence had said that they were lucky in their men; it did not occur to him that the fragment of conversation he reported showed rather that the men thought themselves lucky in their masters.The day broke, and still the enemy had made no movement. As soon as it was light Bob had the field gun dragged over the bridge to the breastwork. Lawrence reported that the enemy had begun to erect a new rampart some distance down the track."They surely don't imagine that we're going to take the offensive," he said."No. It probably means that they'll snipe at us from behind it. Go and get your breakfast and come back as soon as you can."Bob considered whether to interfere with the enemy's work, but decided that he had better husband his ammunition. Some two hours later, after Lawrence's return, the enemy began firing across their new breastwork. At the same time a number of them were seen skirmishing along the track, making short rushes from rock to rock. The track itself was only thirty or forty feet wide, straight and comparatively smooth. But the cliff face was very rugged, affording a certain amount of cover. Skirmishing from point to point, where the cliff jutted out or receded, or where single fragments of rock had fallen to the side of the track, the enemy advanced under cover of the fire from their breastwork until they had come about halfway to the position of the defenders. Some scrambled up the cliff here and there for a few yards so as to obtain a better view of the men sheltered by the entrenchment. Bob refused to allow his men to make a general reply to their fire. He knew that they could not approach beyond a certain point, the track being open and the amount of cover diminishing as they drew nearer. Now and then, when one of them advanced too far ahead of his fellows, he permitted the best marksman to try his skill, and two or three of the enemy were hit. One of his own men also, incautiously exposing himself, fell back with a gash in his arm. Except for this, the day passed without casualties, and the relative positions of the two parties were the same.The garrison were greatly delighted that the end of the second day found the situation unaltered. Only five days of the critical week remained, and some of them already saw themselves at the end of their probation. Bob hinted that they were not yet out of the wood, but he was glad enough to see how high-spirited and confident they were. For his own part, he relaxed nothing of his care and vigilance. He was still on his guard against a night attack, and as an extra precaution, he sent two of the Sikhs to creep in the darkness along the track between the enemy's breastwork and his own, to give instant warning if they should see or hear any signs of movement.But the peace of the night remained unbroken. During the early part of the next day, even, there was no sniping or skirmishing as before. Bob augured ill of this inactivity. He would have been more at ease if the enemy had pursued their ineffective tactics, and would indeed have welcomed a rush, which he felt himself able to repel. He could not but believe that they were gathering their strength, perhaps waiting for the support of more artillery, and he had an instinctive dread that the next assault would be a much more formidable affair.Soon after noon his prescience was rudely justified. Suddenly, without any warning, two guns opened fire from the enemy's breastwork. Lawrence at once offered to set off in the aeroplane and repeat his work with the bombs; but Bob would not allow it, partly because of the scarcity of petrol and dynamite, partly from a fear that the enemy, now better prepared, would have detailed a certain number specially to aim at the aeroplane in flight. The airmen might not escape a second time with a slight flesh wound.The fight resolved itself into a short artillery duel. The enemy's first shell flew high, striking the cliff above the cantilever gangway, and bespattering the sheds and the compounds with fragments of rock. Ganda Singh proved a better marksman. He planted a shell on the enemy's breastwork between the two guns; splinters of rock flew all around, and for a time there was no more firing. Presently, however, it was resumed, apparently from one gun only, and Bob hoped that the other had been put out of action. But in a few minutes both the weapons were at work, and the gunners' practice improved. Two or three shells struck the garrison's barricade, and though no breach was made, part of the parapet was blown away, and splintered rock flew in all directions, dealing severe wounds among the men behind. Ganda Singh worked his gun with imperturbable calm, and Gur Buksh from the compound sent a rain of bullets from the machine gun along the track. Bob saw, however, that he would soon be forced to withdraw the field gun for lack of ammunition. He had only captured twenty rounds with it, and after half these had been expended, with much damage to the enemy's breastwork, he decided that he must reserve the rest for use in the compound, when the enemy should attempt to force a passage round the bend.Signalling therefore to Gur Buksh to keep up a hot fire, he ordered four of the men to run the field gun back to the mine. The rest he withdrew a few yards from the breastwork, posting them close against the cliff out of the direct course of the enemy's shells, which were now working havoc on his rough defences. But finding it impossible there to observe what the enemy were doing, he ordered two men to run back to the breastwork, lie down until the guns had fired, and then spring up and observe the enemy's movements through the gaps. They soon reported that skirmishers were again cautiously advancing along the track. Presently the bombardment redoubled in vigour, and immediately afterwards the scouts cried out that a large body of the enemy was charging. The guns ceased fire; at the short range the trajectory was so flat that the gunners could scarcely aim at the breastwork without hitting their own men."Now, boys!" cried Bob, unconsciously addressing them as if they were Tommies, "after me!"He led them back to their former position. They spread out along the breastwork and opened fire. Bob saw a mass of two or three hundred Kalmucks streaming without any sort of order along the track, while the skirmishers who had occupied the rocks above were firing as fast as they could load."Take your time!" he cried. "There's no need to hurry."The first volleys were nevertheless somewhat ragged. The nerves of the Pathans, unaccustomed to the shattering effect of high explosive shells bursting within a few yards of them, were shaken; only Ganda Singh and the three other Sikhs he had with him were calm as disciplined soldiers ought to be. It was their rifles that took toll of the advancing enemy. Several of these dropped; the rest came on yelling fiercely. Bob ordered his men to fire independently. The steadiness of the Sikhs had its effect on the Pathans, who rested their rifles in holes and crevices of the breastwork and took deliberate aim.The head of the charging column was now within two hundred yards. In spite of increasing losses they still dashed on, and crowds of their countrymen were swarming over the breastwork behind them. Nearer and nearer they drew, but their ranks were thinning fast. When they were about a hundred yards from Bob's entrenchment their leaders wavered. At this many of the men halted, in irresolution; only a few of the bolder spirits, worked up to a pitch of frenzy, pressed on until but fifty yards separated them from their goal. These never returned.With startling suddenness panic seized those who had faltered. Yelling with rage and despair they turned about and scurried like rabbits to the shelter of their breastwork, pursued by a dropping fire. When the survivors had got more than halfway back, their further retreat was covered by the field guns, and Bob again withdrew his men a little to the rear, well content with his successful stand.There was no further attack that day. The men were jubilant. When Bob, on being relieved by Lawrence, returned to the mine, he was met at the end of the bridge by Ditta Lal. The Babu's aspect was even more than usually bland."I offer fulsome congratulations on sparkling victory, sir," he said. "Perchance you heard the universal shout that burst stentorian from drouthy throats.""Is that your own?" asked Bob, interrupting."My own, sir?" The Babu was puzzled. "I fear I do not fully apprehend meaning of question.""Why, it sounded like blank verse, and I wondered whether you yourself had been dropping into poetry.""Delighted, sir," said the Babu with a smile and a bow. "I didn't twig my frail thoughts had run into metric mould. It was unpremeditated art. I am up to snuff now, sir. 'That burst stentorian from drouthy throats'--'pon my dicky, sir, phrase has tone, ring, sonorous rotundity that many professed poetasters would give boots for. However and notwithstanding, long and short of it is I am self-appointed spokesman for all and sundry in offering abject felicitations on auspicious event.""Thanks, I'm sure."They were walking side by side to the house."Now, dear sir," the Babu resumed, "when I was at Calcutta University--of which, as you are aware, I have honour and glory to be B.A.--I was wont to shed my light of countenance on football matches, watched young barbarians toe flying sphere. After certain amount of rough and tumble, at blast of whistle all performance ceased for brief interval, during which muddy oafs ingurgitated juice of lemons and all that.""What are you driving at?" asked Bob in bewilderment."Why, sir, that interludium, denominated half-time, has parallel here and now. We are at half-time in this fateful strife. Three days and half of allotted span have expired; and I make bold to suggestion that, for refreshment and buck-up of general company, you issue orders for tamasha.""What's that?""Tamasha, sir, is jollification, kick-up, regular beano--song and dance, et cetera. With your permission, I will undertake herculean labour of organization.""My good man, you know our proverbs: 'Don't hallo till you're out of the wood'--'Don't count your chickens before they are hatched.' It's true the men have done very well so far, but the stiffest fight often comes in the second half, you know. Possess your soul in patience, Babu. If we come through safely I promise you shall have your tamasha, or whatever you call it, and I tell you what: as you seem to be a bit of a poet, why not spend your time in writing a ballad or something of the sort in anticipation?""Happy thought, sir. I have not hitherto built rhyme, lofty or otherwise, but I will do my level best to rise to height of great argument; I will set my eye in fine frenzy rolling, and body forth forms of things unknown at present, but justified by event. I will strike my lyre while it is hot. Good-night, sir, and sweet repose."He waddled off, bent on a passionate quest for inspiration. Bob looked after him with a tolerant smile."Poor chap!" he thought. "Much learning has made him pretty mad. I wonder if we Britishers, when we pick up a smattering of their lore, strike the Hindus in the same way? I only hope his pæanwillbe justified by the event."CHAPTER THE TWENTY-FIFTHTHE FIGHT AT THE BENDAt early morning, after a quiet night, Lawrence sent one of the men back to announce the approach of a flag of truce. Bob hurried at once to the breastwork. Three Kalmucks were advancing along the track, one of them apparently an officer. No others of the enemy were in sight. The envoys halted within a short distance of the entrenchment, and the officer began to speak in a loud shrill voice."What does he say?" asked Bob."I can't make it out," replied Lawrence. "Do any of you men understand him?"The men, Sikhs and Pathans, acknowledged that they did not, whereupon Bob made signs to the Kalmuck to wait, and despatched a man to fetch Shan Tai, who as a western Chinaman might be able to act as interpreter.When the cook arrived, and heard what was required of him, he shouted a few words to the officer, who responded with a speech of some length, very rapidly uttered. The purport of it was to propose terms. He offered the garrison the honours of war if they would surrender the mine and make no further opposition to the passage of the army up the valley. They would be allowed to depart unmolested, with bag and baggage; and the two white men, if they pleased, might return to their own country by way of Central Asia, through the Kalmuck lines.Bob's reply was made without hesitation. He pointed out that the Kalmucks were the aggressors. Hostilities had not been of his seeking. All that he had desired was to live at peace and pursue his occupation as miner, whereby he gave employment to several score of workmen, including many of the officer's fellow-countrymen."We have been wantonly attacked," he said, "without warning and without provocation, and we are resolved to defend the property of the late owner of the mine, who was murdered by a man acting apparently in collusion with the force to which you belong. I reject your terms. But in order to avoid further bloodshed, I am willing to refer the matter to the Sirkar, and will abide by the decision of the Viceroy of the Emperor of India."The officer had evidently come prepared for a refusal, for he at once put forward a modified proposal. He offered to leave the Englishman undisturbed at the mine if he on his side would refrain from attacking the army as it marched past. Bob saw the dilemma in which he was placed. The question was no longer a personal but an imperial one. Rejection of the offer would imply that he stood as an outpost of the Empire. But his answer was equally clear and emphatic. He declined to make terms of any kind with the enemy. The Kalmuck returned to his own lines, manifestly chagrined at the failure of his mission.Bob expected that the rejection of the enemy's proposals would result in a more sustained and vigorous attack, and as soon as the officer had departed he set his men to complete the repairing of the breastwork which Lawrence had begun in the night. Presently the Kalmucks opened fire with rifles and field guns, and throughout the day the bombardment and sniping from the rocks intermittently continued; but there was no further attempt to rush the position. In the intervals Bob had fresh stones brought up for the repair of the breastwork, which had been considerably knocked about. The casualties among the garrison, however, were slight, and at the end of the fourth day Bob felt that he could reasonably congratulate himself on the success of his stand.But he was still very anxious. Though the enemy had shown surprising sluggishness, he did not flatter himself that they had any idea of abandoning their task. More and more he wondered why they did not attack during the night, when, so far as they knew, the advantage would be wholly with them. For the first time since the commencement of the struggle he failed to sleep well, waking frequently, then dozing off again.About four o'clock in the morning he was roused by the sound of two rifle shots in quick succession. Springing fully clothed from his bed, he rushed into the compound, called up the detachment whose turn it was to take duty at the breastwork, and led them at the double across the bridge and down the track. By the time he reached the position he found a furious fight in progress. The two scouts whom Lawrence had thrown out to give warning if the enemy moved had heard the tramp of men advancing, fired their rifles as a signal, and run back to join their own party. They were so closely followed by the Kalmucks, whose forms could be dimly seen in the twilight, that Lawrence had been unable to fire at once for fear of hitting the scouts, so that the enemy were within a few yards of the breastwork before they met with any resistance.Reinforced by Bob's men, the party now opened fire with deadly effect, but the attackers were so numerous that the rush was scarcely checked. There was only time for a second volley before the head of the enemy's column surged up against the breastwork. They had held their fire until they were able to see the dark forms of their adversaries. Then their shots, fired point-blank, laid low several of the Sikhs and Pathans. Supported by the swarms in their rear they began to clamber up the rampart, in the teeth of the bristling bayonets opposed to them. On their side was the advantage of numbers: on the side of the defenders that of position; but Bob recognised in a minute that his men, ply their bayonets as they might, must soon be overwhelmed by sheer weight.Suddenly a beam of light flashed over and past the scene of the conflict, resting on the track immediately beyond the breastwork, which was crowded with yelling Kalmucks pressing on to support their comrades. Gur Buksh in the compound had switched on the searchlight. It was not the blinding glare associated with the searchlights of forts and battleships, but it had sufficient illuminating power to show up the disorderly mass of the charging force.For a moment it made no alteration in the conditions. Bob and his brother, with barely a score of men left to them, were hard pushed to hold the breastwork. Faster than they could hurl the enemy down at the point of the bayonet, others swarmed up. Bob was on the point of shouting an order to retire to his own original breastwork up the track when, above the shouts and yells of the combatants, sounded the characteristic rattle of the machine gun. Instantly he recognised how this might operate in his favour. The gun could not be trained on the men who were actually at grips with him, but in a few seconds it had swept a huge gap in the column advancing in serried ranks along the track, and deprived his immediate assailants of their support.He at once took advantage of this fortunate diversion. Instead of retiring, he cried to the men to stand firm, and the desperate work at the rampart went on. For some time the Kalmucks there did not know or failed to appreciate what was happening behind them. They still pressed on and up, and but for the timely arrival of another dozen men despatched by Gur Buksh from the mine they might even now have carried the position. The reinforcement turned the scale. Bob called on his men for a final effort, and he and Lawrence flashed their revolvers in the very faces of the crowd. Fired by their example the men thrust and jabbed with redoubled energy, and in a few minutes hurled the last of the assailants back on to the track.They found themselves in a terrifying quandary. The space between them and their baffled comrades was illuminated by the fatal band of light. The machine gun had ceased to play on the track when it was cleared of the enemy. Now there were forty or fifty men trapped in the dark wedge-like area between the beam of the searchlight and the breastwork. They knew that if any of them dared to attempt a rush back they would be the target for innumerable bullets. One or two did rashly hazard a retreat, but as soon as they encroached upon the luminous band the gun's rattle scarcely gave them warning of the shots that fell among them almost instantaneously. The rest cowered in the darkness, waiting for death.Bob had to hold his men with a tight rein to prevent them from leaping the breastwork and massacring their despairing foes. He had thought of a better way. Fyz Ali could make himself understood by them. Through his lips Bob told them that if they laid down their arms they might retire, taking their wounded with them. They eagerly accepted the proffered mercy, but shrank from acting on it, until they were assured that a message had been sent to the havildar to refrain from firing at them. Then, utterly cowed, they handed their weapons over the breastwork, gathered up such of their comrades as were yet alive, and carried them in all haste across the illuminated space and out of sight.This was an auspicious beginning for the fifth day. It was the greatest triumph that the garrison had as yet achieved, and the men were proportionably elated. The enemy on the other hand were dejected and despondent. For some hours they remained at a distance. In the afternoon, however, they resumed their skirmishing tactics, and under cover of a renewed bombardment crept nearer and nearer to the breastwork. When their field guns had to cease fire for fear of hitting the skirmishers, Bob decided to venture a charge, and led twenty of his best men in a sudden leap over the barricade. The enemy did not wait for the touch of the terrible bayonets. They fired a scattered volley and fled. A lucky shot from Ganda Singh's rifle brought down one of the rearmost, and he rolled down the rocks on to the track. Acting on the unconsidered impulse of the moment Bob sent two of the Sikhs to make him prisoner, and when Lawrence shortly afterwards returned to the compound for his afternoon sleep, he took the wounded man with him, and had his injuries attended to.He proved to be an officer. Interrogating him through Shan Tai, Lawrence learnt that the general himself was on his way to the mine to make a personal inspection of the position. The Kalmuck, who seemed grateful for the attentions shown him, advised Lawrence to yield. His people's comparative inactivity that day was only preliminary to a crushing blow. "Without your flying machine," he said, "you would by this time have been destroyed. That gave you an advantage. Soon the advantage will be on our side.""Will the presence of your general do so much for you?" asked Lawrence.The man refused to say any more; but his manner, and the half-smile upon his face, gave Lawrence an uneasy feeling that the Mongol general must have a trump card to play. He was so much impressed by the officer's hint of a great stroke impending that instead of seeking his bed, he hurried back to inform Bob."What can he mean?" he asked."I can think of nothing but that the general is bringing up large reinforcements, and means to throw them upon us and carry the position by sheer weight of numbers. He won't care how many lives he chucks away, and everything depends on whether his men's discipline is good enough to stand the racket. I don't know how far these Kalmucks have a contempt for death like the Japanese.""Don't you think I'd better fly a few miles down the track and see what is going on?""But you're tired out. You've been at it since midnight.""That's all right. I shall sleep easier when I know what we've got to expect.""Very well then. Don't go far, and keep high."The appearance of the aeroplane over the track, with Lawrence and Fazl on board, was a signal for the enemy to scurry to cover. Not a shot was fired; their only thought was to escape the terrible bombs which they associated with the flying machine. But Lawrence did not intend to use his bombs. What he saw, or Fazl reported to him, proved that his stock of missiles was insufficient for any greater effect than to retard, for a few hours at the most, the inevitable crisis. Two field guns were in position at the enemy's advanced entrenchment. Near by, men had been engaged in constructing platforms for other guns, until the sight of the aeroplane sent them to cover. Farther down the track, at intervals, five or six similar weapons were being dragged up; to destroy them all, even if he were lucky enough in his aim to do so, would exhaust his stock of bombs, and he felt that he must hold some in reserve for the ultimate defence of the mine.The track, as far as he could see it, was almost choked with men and animals. The men scattered as well as they could when they saw the aeroplane; some shots were fired at it, harmlessly. It was impossible for Lawrence to guess the magnitude of the reinforcement that was being pushed forward; but it seemed to him that several regiments must have been sent on from the main army. The bodies of mounted men were separated by long convoys of provisions and ammunition, carried on the backs of mules and camels. It almost appeared as if a regular advance of the whole force had begun. The Kalmuck general was clearly confident of his power to break the resistance of the little band that had hitherto withstood his passage.Lawrence flew as far as the bridge; it seemed useless to go farther. He had seen what he had expected to see: a vast and overwhelming force. But he had obtained no definite clue to the meaning of the captive officer's vague hint of a master stroke. That the enemy had a crushing superiority in numbers he had known all along: there was nothing to indicate that they had anything more than the advantage of numbers still. The presence of their general might act as a stimulus; but the nature of the position precluded any marked change in their mode of operations. It was essentially a position that could be won only by dogged, unfaltering determination: the issue depended on the fighting man, not on the tactician.Perhaps if Lawrence had continued his flight to the plain on which the main army was encamped, he or Fazl might have noticed one slight change since his former visit in Major Endicott's company. A field telegraph had been laid down, stretching away to the north. This might well have escaped his observation from the great altitude to which he must of necessity have risen. Even if he had seen it, probably it would have suggested nothing more than one of the ordinary accompaniments of an army in the field. Yet that single wire was the clue to the Kalmuck's cryptic warning.On returning to the mine his report to Bob was necessarily disappointing. It was clear that everything still depended on blocking the enemy's advance. If they could once establish themselves on the southern side of the bend, and bring their guns to bear directly on the compounds, a few hours' bombardment would render the place untenable: it would be the beginning of the end. Against it the garrison were almost helpless. They had only ten rounds of ammunition for the captured field gun; and though the machine gun was in better case, not even the bravest of men--and Gur Buksh was that--could for long work his gun under the deadly fire of a whole park of artillery."Is there any possible way of strengthening our breastwork?" asked Lawrence, as with sinking hearts they discussed the situation."We can erect a second rampart in the night," suggested Bob. "It would take them a little longer to knock to pieces, and give us time. Every minute gained is valuable. You see, they can't bring their guns into direct line with the mine until they've driven us away, they can't do that without charging, and they can't charge without ceasing fire temporarily.""Yes, I see that, but with four or five field guns at work they'll soon smash even a double breastwork, and then the way's clear for a charge. I wish I had bombed their guns now.""You can do it to-morrow morning. I don't want to spend our last dynamite till absolutely the last moment. To-morrow's the seventh day. If the Chief has been able to keep his word we shall be reinforced some time during the day, and then----""You say 'if.' There's a doubt about it, isn't there? I've felt it all along.""There is, of course. He may not have been able to spare the men. But hang it all! what's the good of looking on the dark side? We've held our own for a week, and even if we're smashed in the end I bet the delay is worth a good deal to India. The loss of time is a serious matter for the enemy. But for us the whole twenty thousand of them would be now on the flank of our army. I can't imagine any force of ours of the same size being checked in this way by a mere handful of men in a gorge. I dare say the reason is that the Kalmucks aren't used to hill fighting. They're best in a cavalry raid; here their horses are only a nuisance, and they're rather slow to adapt themselves to the conditions. But they've had a week to get used to them; and the worst of it is that our fellows, plucky as they are, are pretty nearly worn out.""Do you think they'll jib if relief doesn't come?""What's the good? They'd only be massacred. They'll fight to the last gasp.... I say, I've got an idea. There's plenty of wire knocking about the mine: let's make a couple of wire entanglements and set them up in the night, just beyond the breastwork. If we take care the enemy won't hear us; they certainly won't see us.""Wouldn't they notice them when they make their rush?""That's possible, of course; but I rather fancy they'll be so hot to get at us that they won't. The wire won't show up much against the background of rock. Anyhow, it's worth trying. Any check would give us the chance to pepper them from the breastwork, and judging by what we've seen already they'll be in a panic that they'll take some time to recover from. Now you must get a sleep, so go back to the mine and tell Gur Buksh to get all the wire he can and set all the men to work; it won't be the first time he's had such a job, you may be sure."When Lawrence had arranged this with the havildar, and was proceeding to the house, he noticed Ditta Lal walking with an air of dejection about the compound. The Babu's hands were clasped behind his back; his eyes were bent on the ground, or rather on the intervening promontory of his person. He looked up as Lawrence drew near."Gigantic undertaking, sir," he said sorrowfully."Pretty stiff, certainly," replied Lawrence."Stronger word is requisite in this exigent, sir. Such task transcends the topmost rung of art. Without excessive reverence for dictum of bloated antiquity, I hold with him who sings 'born not made.'""Well, we can only do our best," said Lawrence, puzzled by the Babu's words."What shadows we are, what shadows we pursue!" sighed Ditta Lal. "After mountainous travail I produce splendiferous line; I rack my cranium for colleague or successor; but final word, whose function is to charm attentive ear, eludes, evades, crumps. To wit: 'And batters blackguards with his boisterous bomb!'--line perfect in harmony and melody and all that; but when I run through alphabet for rhyme--com, dom, fom, gom, hom, and so on till I come to blank wall atzom: not a word, sir, that fulfils mutual demand of sound and sense--not one word.""What on earth are you gassing about, Babu?" asked Lawrence, who had not heard of his previous conversation with Bob."Of what, sir, but task entrusted to unworthy servant by honourable brother, to compose song of victory, ode, epic, or what not, in celebration of happy and glorious achievement about to be consummated! But I will not despair; nil desperandum; as you truly remark, we can but do our best; resources of civilisation as represented by B.A. degree of Calcutta University are not exhausted; something attempted, something done, shall earn my night's repose, of which I shall be jolly and unmistakably glad, for agony of expressing thoughts too deep for tears wrings honest brow, sir."Lawrence feared that the stress of the situation was making the Babu mad; but he spoke a sympathetic word, and passed on.
CHAPTER THE TWENTY-THIRD
CAPTURING A GUN
The aeroplane with Lawrence and the Gurkha on board was soon flying down the river, at a much greater height than usual--a wise precaution on Lawrence's part, as was proved in a few moments. Even before it came above the bend it was assailed with a volley, and as it passed Bob was alarmed at the continuous crackle of rifles. It lasted only half a minute, but it was so loud as to smother altogether the hum of the propeller, and he almost repented of having allowed his brother to go when he realised the danger to which he was exposed. He had lost sight of the aeroplane; the fusillade had ceased; and the only indication, and that a negative one, that the machine and its occupants had not been brought to the ground was the absence of clamour beyond the bend. If the enemy had been successful, he thought, surely they would have hailed their triumph with shouts of delight.
Reassured by the comparative silence, he remained behind the parapet, and informed Gur Buksh of his intention to reoccupy the breastwork on the farther bank.
"It is well, sahib," said the veteran quietly.
"Will the men follow me?" asked Bob anxiously.
"To the jaws of the pit, sahib. Where the sahib leads they will follow: even the men who ran away are now eager to wipe out their disgrace."
"Then I will go and form my party. We shall not move until the chota sahib gives a signal."
He found that the havildar had spoken truly. There was no lack of volunteers. He soon arranged his little party of twenty, and posted them in the shelter of the wall until the time should come for letting down the bridge and leading them across it.
The minutes passed very slowly. Lawrence would not think it necessary to push his reconnaissance as far as the enemy's encampment. He might perhaps fly thirty miles, and then return. This would take something less than an hour. If he should discover the field guns within a short distance of the mine, the explosion of his bombs might be expected much earlier.
Half an hour passed. There had been no sound from up stream; no sign of activity among the enemy. Bob began to feel more hopeful. They had apparently met with great obstacles to the passage of the guns. He was momentarily expecting to hear the hum of the returning aeroplane when, with a suddenness that took him all aback, there was a tremendous roar, followed in a second or two by a terrific crash just beyond the Pathan compound. Turning in consternation to discover the cause of it, he saw a great mass of the cliff falling amid a cloud of dust and smoke upon the wooden pathway, and plunging into the river beneath. Such destruction could only be the effect of a shell. Beyond doubt one at least of the field guns had been brought into position behind the enemy's breastwork at the bend.
This fact filled him with as much dismay as amazement. It was not surprising that the enemy had placed their gun without his knowledge. They would, of course, have been careful to mask it until they were ready to open fire. But why had Lawrence or the Gurkha not seen it? Could it be that the aeroplane had been damaged and brought down after all?
While he was in a painful state of anxiety, there was another roar, and a second shell burst on the cliff, just beyond the Pathan gallery. He ran to the northern wall and peered through one of the loopholes. Smoke hung above the enemy's breastwork, but there was not a man to be seen, so that rifle fire was useless. He ordered Gur Buksh to fire the machine gun. The havildar's aim was good; chips of rock flew from the breastwork; and Bob thought he saw the muzzle of a gun disappear. His attention was immediately drawn from it by the sight of the aeroplane flying round the bend, and with the thrill of relief at his brother's safety came the expectation of hearing an explosion and seeing signs of havoc about the breastwork. But the aeroplane flew high over the scene, passed it, and disappeared up the river. There had been no explosion. Why had not Lawrence dropped a bomb?
Hardly had he asked himself this question when a third shell burst from the breastwork. It was better aimed than the other two. Instead of striking the cliff, it hit the northern wall of the compound, carrying away several yards of the metal parapet, scattering jagged fragments of iron and stone in every direction, then flew over the heads of the garrison and plunged into the earthwork at the southern boundary of the compound, within a few yards of the spot where the sortie party were gathered. Bob was almost at his wits' end. No defences could withstand a bombardment at such close quarters. None of the garrison had as yet been wounded, but he could see by their cowering attitude and the terror written upon their faces that their courage had been shocked out of them. Only Gur Buksh and the other Sikhs stood immovable at their posts.
A few minutes after the report of the gun, the aeroplane again came flying down stream. Lawrence, then, had not landed. Bob was in a maze of bewilderment. But he was suddenly aroused from his stupor by a sharp detonation. It was not the report of a gun. Then there were loud cries and yells from the direction of the enemy, and looking through the loophole he saw a smother of dust above the breastwork. Lawrence had dropped a bomb at last, and again was out of sight.
This was to have been the signal for the sortie; but after what had happened Bob felt that it would be sheer madness to lead his men along a stretch of the track commanded by the field guns. He doubted, indeed, whether their courage would face the task. It was only common prudence to wait for a second signal. He could not see what damage the bomb had done; whether it had only temporarily frightened the enemy. But Lawrence would not hesitate to hurl another bomb among them; and believing that, guns or no guns, they must be demoralized if attacked a second time from the air, Bob hastened across the compound, ordered the bridge to be lowered, and went to the twenty men huddling under cover of the wall.
[image]LAWRENCE DROPS A BOMB
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LAWRENCE DROPS A BOMB
He allowed no trace of mental perturbation to show itself in his bearing.
"The time has come!" he said quietly to the men. "Lawrence Sahib is driving the enemy away. There are no more shots from their gun, you see. We shall soon hear another explosion; then you will follow me, and in five minutes we shall be masters of our breastwork."
Ganda Singh, who was among the party, translated his words to the men. The cessation of gun fire and Bob's confident manner somewhat restored their courage. They formed up, grasping their weapons nervously, and waited in panting eagerness, mingled with trepidation, for the expected signal.
It seemed a long time in coming. Bob knew that Lawrence had had to fly several miles down stream before he could turn. It came at last. Again sounded the sharp crash; again the air was filled with cries, in which there was no note of triumph: and Bob, with a cheery "Now, my men!" dashed across the bridge with the swarthy mountaineers at his heels. Reaching the other side, they turned to the left and raced across the open space formerly occupied by the miners' huts. Bob was only half conscious that the aeroplane was flying in the opposite direction high above his head. They were met neither by shells nor by bullets, and only when they sank breathless behind the shelter of the breastwork did a few rifle shots patter around them. Then all was quiet again.
Whatever the cause of the astonishing delay on Lawrence's part, his intervention now had been effectual, at any rate for a time. How far effectual? Bob wondered. He got up and looked over the parapet towards the enemy's breastwork a hundred yards away. They had apparently deserted it. Some, no doubt, had been slain by the explosions. Had the survivors fled in panic far away, or were they merely lying low beyond the bend? Then his eye caught what had escaped his observation from the greater distance of the compound wall. There were two embrasures a foot or two below the top of the breastwork, contrived by removing some of the loose rocks. But he saw no sign of guns. Perhaps the enemy in their retirement had dragged with them the one which had fired.
He heard the hum of the aeroplane again. Lawrence had still not landed, but was returning, perhaps to observe the extent of his work, perhaps to complete it. He was flying much lower than before. A sudden idea flashed into Bob's mind. The enemy's breastwork was only a hundred yards distant. Why not attempt to rush it under cover of the aeroplane; and if in the hurry of their flight they had left their gun, capture it and bring it to the mine?
His thought had hardly crystallized into a resolution when he heard two explosions in rapid succession, followed by yells and one or two rifle shots. The sound seemed to come from some distance beyond the bend. His mind was made up. He told Ganda Singh his intention, and could scarcely wait while the havildar translated his orders. The men responded with a "Hai! hai!" of delight. Like Bob himself they were worked up to a high pitch of excitement. Their rush had been successful. The risks were forgotten, or remembered only to be scorned. They were twenty against an unknown number, but none counted the odds. "Hai! hai!" they shouted, as their leader leapt round the angle of the entrenchment. They followed close upon him as he dashed over the intervening hundred yards of broken ground. No one faltered. In less than half a minute they were in possession of the enemy's breastwork, and at that instant there was another explosion far down the track.
Bob's glance fell first upon a score of prostrate forms scattered on the ground in the neighbourhood. Then with a thrill of delight he saw two field guns. One had been struck from its carriage, and lay near the brink of the stream. The other had apparently been withdrawn from its embrasure, but abandoned under the demoralizing shock of an explosion. Bob ran to the first. A moment's inspection showed him that it was irretrievably ruined. Calling two of the men, with their aid he toppled it into the river. The other was still workable. Looking around, he spied near the breastwork a number of shells which had escaped destruction by the bombs.
"Can you fire a gun?" he asked Ganda Singh eagerly.
"I am a gunner, sahib."
"Then slew it round. We'll turn it on the enemy."
He had remarked a number of the Kalmucks collected on the track some distance away. As he spoke, bullets began to whistle around, and two of his men were hit. Quickly the gun was turned round. Ganda Singh discovered that it was already loaded, and in another few seconds a shell sang on its deadly flight towards the enemy. They fled, to be pursued by another shell as soon as Ganda Singh could reload; and with this second shot the track was cleared for half a mile down stream. And then the aeroplane came whirring past overhead.
As he watched it, Bob became aware that the afternoon was drawing towards evening. In an hour the valley would be gloomy, in two hours it would be shrouded in darkness. For the present, while daylight lasted, there was little fear of the enemy attacking. They would not face their own gun backed by the machine gun of the garrison. But he felt that with the fall of night the circumstances would be changed. His feeble searchlight scarcely illuminated the space between the bridge and the bend; beyond the bend it gave no light whatever. In the darkness the enemy might creep up to within a short distance of their captured breastwork and carry it with a determined rush, in spite of the gun. It was true that the narrowness of the track would allow the approach of only a few men abreast; but they could be supported by a constant succession of reinforcements, coming up like waves of the sea until the defenders were worn out. It seemed to Bob the prudent course to withdraw his men and the gun to the mine, and place the latter in position beside the machine gun. However, it was bad tactics to abandon a defensive position before retirement was absolutely necessary, so he decided to remain where he was for a little while longer, in the hope that Lawrence would land and, joining him, explain the actual condition of affairs down stream.
About a quarter of an hour after the aeroplane had passed, Bob saw Lawrence running down the track towards him.
"That's what I hoped you would do," were Lawrence's first words as they met. "Capture the guns, I mean."
"Yes, we've got one: the other's ruined and in the river. But we've had a narrow escape from being battered to pieces. Why didn't you begin bombing before?"
"I'll tell you. We were pretty well peppered, as you saw, when we flew past here down stream. It may have been because that bothered us, and Fazl was hit--I didn't know it at the time--that we didn't see the guns they had dragged up. Or perhaps it was because they are so like the rocks in colour--and we didn't expect they'd be here already. Anyway, we didn't see them, and it makes me mad to think what a squeak you've had. Ioughtto have seen them."
"That's bosh! it's precious difficult to see anything at that speed. But go on."
"We saw the men, of course, but we were soon out of range. The planes are simply riddled."
"Fazl not much hurt, I hope?"
"No: the bullet went through the fleshy part of his arm, and he didn't say a word about it till we landed just now. On our way down we saw several teams of ponies at different parts of the track, bringing grub up, no doubt; and several bodies of mounted troops on the march; but never a sign of the guns. I flew on till we came to the place where the Major and I saw them: then thinking I must have missed them, I turned back. You may imagine how I felt when, about two miles away, I suppose, I heard the first shot. It's so different from the sound of the machine gun that I couldn't mistake it. I told Fazl to get ready to drop a bomb as soon as we came up to the guns. He did so, but I didn't hear an explosion. He yelled out that it had fallen into the river, but of course we were past before there was time to shy another. I came back as quickly as I could, and my heart was in my mouth when I saw smoke in the compound. Luckily Fazl's next shots were better, and jolly glad I am that we managed to stampede the fellows and give you a chance."
"You were just in time, old man. They did more damage to the cliff than to us, though."
"Yes: the path is simply heaped with rubbish. Coming back it was like scrambling over shingle. But a few hours' work will clear the lot away. Now what's the next thing?"
"As it's getting dusk I propose to withdraw the gun to the mine. But we must hold this breastwork as long as we can, and it occurs to me that if we alter its angle a little we can enfilade it from our own breastwork when it becomes necessary to fall back on that. It will still protect us from attack down stream, owing to the bend."
"Isn't it worth while to block up the track again?"
"It would use up too much dynamite. Our stock is getting appallingly low. We may want it all for bombs. Besides, if we block up the track farther down we shan't see our enemy."
"But I can always scout in the aeroplane."
"You forget that our petrol isn't unlimited. I had a look in the shed this morning, and there isn't much left. The paraffin you brought only replaced what you lost from the leaky cans. We shall have to economize now, and use the aeroplane only when we must."
"Very well then. If you see about altering the breastwork I'll get the gun dragged in. And there are these poor wounded wretches. Their moans are horrible. What can we do for them?"
"We mustn't take them into our compound. We haven't food enough to support prisoners. I have it! We'll send off the Kalmuck prisoners we've got, and tell them that they can bring up a dozen of their friends under flag of truce to carry off their wounded. That'll relieve us of all responsibility. And now let's get to business. We haven't too much time."
These arrangements were duly carried out. While Lawrence escorted the gun to the mine, Bob set the men to pull down the breastwork, and re-construct it so that it stood almost perpendicular to his own entrenchment a hundred yards up stream. In its new position it would be of very little use to the enemy should they re-capture it, for on whichever side of it they happened to be, they would be swept by the fire of the men posted at the other.
By the time the work was completed darkness had fallen. Then Lawrence dismissed the Kalmuck prisoners as he had suggested, and followed them to the breastwork to have a final consultation with his brother.
"I'll hold on here until midnight," said Bob. "I had a good sleep during the day. Tell Ganda Singh to train the captured gun on the bend; if there's an attack he and Gur Buksh can play on the track and cover our retirement."
"I'm not sure whether it wouldn't be better to bring it out again and place it behind our entrenchments."
"No, that would never do. The searchlight isn't powerful enough to be of much good; and the position might be rushed before the gun could come into play. It's too valuable for us to risk that. It would be a very different matter if we had enough men to hold the breastwork and really dispute the advance of the enemy. We can't do that. If they seriously push their attack we shall have to evacuate the position and bolt for the mine, and the gun would only be a hindrance. Now you get back. Send over some food for us, and then go to bed."
"I shan't take my clothes off. Don't hold on too long, Bob, if they do come up."
"Don't be nervous, young 'un. We've had uncommon good luck so far, and I'm inclined to think the enemy won't be in a hurry to tackle us. Those bombs must have been a horrid surprise to them. We may congratulate ourselves on a good day for the first, anyhow."
CHAPTER THE TWENTY-FOURTH
A CHECK
The night passed undisturbed. Bob was almost sorry. As the slow hours crept towards midnight, when Lawrence would relieve him, he would have welcomed an opportunity for action. It was bitter cold. He dared not kindle a watch-fire, and so enlighten the enemy about his arrangements. Remembering Lawrence's similar vigil forty miles down, he said to himself: "The kid's a good plucked one. He'd have made a first-rate soldier, or political officer, or anything. Pity we're both so hard up!"
Suddenly he bethought himself of the mass of ore which had been tumbled into the cavity in the bank just above the Pathan miners' compound. It must weigh many tons, and according to Mr. Appleton's calculations, sixty per cent. of it was pure silver. Bob did not know the market price of the metal, but the quantity that had been mined must represent a considerable sum of money. The exciting incidents of the last few days had kept his thoughts engrossed with strategy and tactics; and the notion that the mine was itself a valuable property, worth defending for its own sake, came almost with a shock of surprise.
"Who is the owner now?" he thought. "Did Uncle leave a will? I suppose we are his heirs, but what's the law of inheritance in these parts?"
And then the recollection of his uncle's recent death caused a revulsion of feeling. It was quite unreasonable to shrink from the thought of benefiting by Mr. Appleton's decease; but affection and high-minded instinct sometimes get the better of reason, and he dismissed the subject, still with a vague hope that his uncle would even yet return to his own.
At midnight Lawrence came with a squad of men to relieve him.
"All's well then?" he said.
"Yes; I haven't heard a murmur."
"Well, cut off and get a sleep. I'm good for a spell till daylight. Shan Tai has given me a splendid feed. We're lucky in our men, Bob. As I was eating I overheard Shan Tai talking with Chunda Beg. 'What you tinkee?' says Shan Tai. They'd evidently been discussing the situation. 'I say not one of the dogs will ever poke his nose within our walls,' said the khansaman. 'When the huzur told me that two boys were coming to live here I was sick in mind. Some of the Feringhi boys call us niggers, and speak to us as if we were mud. Our sahibs are not so. They do not sniff and curse and use us as if we were beasts and not men. What say you, cook man?' 'Say what you say allo lighto,' says Shan Tai. 'Likee young massa plenty muchee. Big lot fightee men come all-same. No can fightee big lot long time.' 'Wah!' says Chunda. 'The two sahibs are worth thousands of those dogs of Kalmucks, and if Allah keeps them alive we shall smite and smite until the Sirkar sends help. Only give them good food, cook man.' 'Makee chow-chow first-chop,' says Shan Tai, and the old chap gave a chuckle. He's a jolly good sort."
Lawrence had said that they were lucky in their men; it did not occur to him that the fragment of conversation he reported showed rather that the men thought themselves lucky in their masters.
The day broke, and still the enemy had made no movement. As soon as it was light Bob had the field gun dragged over the bridge to the breastwork. Lawrence reported that the enemy had begun to erect a new rampart some distance down the track.
"They surely don't imagine that we're going to take the offensive," he said.
"No. It probably means that they'll snipe at us from behind it. Go and get your breakfast and come back as soon as you can."
Bob considered whether to interfere with the enemy's work, but decided that he had better husband his ammunition. Some two hours later, after Lawrence's return, the enemy began firing across their new breastwork. At the same time a number of them were seen skirmishing along the track, making short rushes from rock to rock. The track itself was only thirty or forty feet wide, straight and comparatively smooth. But the cliff face was very rugged, affording a certain amount of cover. Skirmishing from point to point, where the cliff jutted out or receded, or where single fragments of rock had fallen to the side of the track, the enemy advanced under cover of the fire from their breastwork until they had come about halfway to the position of the defenders. Some scrambled up the cliff here and there for a few yards so as to obtain a better view of the men sheltered by the entrenchment. Bob refused to allow his men to make a general reply to their fire. He knew that they could not approach beyond a certain point, the track being open and the amount of cover diminishing as they drew nearer. Now and then, when one of them advanced too far ahead of his fellows, he permitted the best marksman to try his skill, and two or three of the enemy were hit. One of his own men also, incautiously exposing himself, fell back with a gash in his arm. Except for this, the day passed without casualties, and the relative positions of the two parties were the same.
The garrison were greatly delighted that the end of the second day found the situation unaltered. Only five days of the critical week remained, and some of them already saw themselves at the end of their probation. Bob hinted that they were not yet out of the wood, but he was glad enough to see how high-spirited and confident they were. For his own part, he relaxed nothing of his care and vigilance. He was still on his guard against a night attack, and as an extra precaution, he sent two of the Sikhs to creep in the darkness along the track between the enemy's breastwork and his own, to give instant warning if they should see or hear any signs of movement.
But the peace of the night remained unbroken. During the early part of the next day, even, there was no sniping or skirmishing as before. Bob augured ill of this inactivity. He would have been more at ease if the enemy had pursued their ineffective tactics, and would indeed have welcomed a rush, which he felt himself able to repel. He could not but believe that they were gathering their strength, perhaps waiting for the support of more artillery, and he had an instinctive dread that the next assault would be a much more formidable affair.
Soon after noon his prescience was rudely justified. Suddenly, without any warning, two guns opened fire from the enemy's breastwork. Lawrence at once offered to set off in the aeroplane and repeat his work with the bombs; but Bob would not allow it, partly because of the scarcity of petrol and dynamite, partly from a fear that the enemy, now better prepared, would have detailed a certain number specially to aim at the aeroplane in flight. The airmen might not escape a second time with a slight flesh wound.
The fight resolved itself into a short artillery duel. The enemy's first shell flew high, striking the cliff above the cantilever gangway, and bespattering the sheds and the compounds with fragments of rock. Ganda Singh proved a better marksman. He planted a shell on the enemy's breastwork between the two guns; splinters of rock flew all around, and for a time there was no more firing. Presently, however, it was resumed, apparently from one gun only, and Bob hoped that the other had been put out of action. But in a few minutes both the weapons were at work, and the gunners' practice improved. Two or three shells struck the garrison's barricade, and though no breach was made, part of the parapet was blown away, and splintered rock flew in all directions, dealing severe wounds among the men behind. Ganda Singh worked his gun with imperturbable calm, and Gur Buksh from the compound sent a rain of bullets from the machine gun along the track. Bob saw, however, that he would soon be forced to withdraw the field gun for lack of ammunition. He had only captured twenty rounds with it, and after half these had been expended, with much damage to the enemy's breastwork, he decided that he must reserve the rest for use in the compound, when the enemy should attempt to force a passage round the bend.
Signalling therefore to Gur Buksh to keep up a hot fire, he ordered four of the men to run the field gun back to the mine. The rest he withdrew a few yards from the breastwork, posting them close against the cliff out of the direct course of the enemy's shells, which were now working havoc on his rough defences. But finding it impossible there to observe what the enemy were doing, he ordered two men to run back to the breastwork, lie down until the guns had fired, and then spring up and observe the enemy's movements through the gaps. They soon reported that skirmishers were again cautiously advancing along the track. Presently the bombardment redoubled in vigour, and immediately afterwards the scouts cried out that a large body of the enemy was charging. The guns ceased fire; at the short range the trajectory was so flat that the gunners could scarcely aim at the breastwork without hitting their own men.
"Now, boys!" cried Bob, unconsciously addressing them as if they were Tommies, "after me!"
He led them back to their former position. They spread out along the breastwork and opened fire. Bob saw a mass of two or three hundred Kalmucks streaming without any sort of order along the track, while the skirmishers who had occupied the rocks above were firing as fast as they could load.
"Take your time!" he cried. "There's no need to hurry."
The first volleys were nevertheless somewhat ragged. The nerves of the Pathans, unaccustomed to the shattering effect of high explosive shells bursting within a few yards of them, were shaken; only Ganda Singh and the three other Sikhs he had with him were calm as disciplined soldiers ought to be. It was their rifles that took toll of the advancing enemy. Several of these dropped; the rest came on yelling fiercely. Bob ordered his men to fire independently. The steadiness of the Sikhs had its effect on the Pathans, who rested their rifles in holes and crevices of the breastwork and took deliberate aim.
The head of the charging column was now within two hundred yards. In spite of increasing losses they still dashed on, and crowds of their countrymen were swarming over the breastwork behind them. Nearer and nearer they drew, but their ranks were thinning fast. When they were about a hundred yards from Bob's entrenchment their leaders wavered. At this many of the men halted, in irresolution; only a few of the bolder spirits, worked up to a pitch of frenzy, pressed on until but fifty yards separated them from their goal. These never returned.
With startling suddenness panic seized those who had faltered. Yelling with rage and despair they turned about and scurried like rabbits to the shelter of their breastwork, pursued by a dropping fire. When the survivors had got more than halfway back, their further retreat was covered by the field guns, and Bob again withdrew his men a little to the rear, well content with his successful stand.
There was no further attack that day. The men were jubilant. When Bob, on being relieved by Lawrence, returned to the mine, he was met at the end of the bridge by Ditta Lal. The Babu's aspect was even more than usually bland.
"I offer fulsome congratulations on sparkling victory, sir," he said. "Perchance you heard the universal shout that burst stentorian from drouthy throats."
"Is that your own?" asked Bob, interrupting.
"My own, sir?" The Babu was puzzled. "I fear I do not fully apprehend meaning of question."
"Why, it sounded like blank verse, and I wondered whether you yourself had been dropping into poetry."
"Delighted, sir," said the Babu with a smile and a bow. "I didn't twig my frail thoughts had run into metric mould. It was unpremeditated art. I am up to snuff now, sir. 'That burst stentorian from drouthy throats'--'pon my dicky, sir, phrase has tone, ring, sonorous rotundity that many professed poetasters would give boots for. However and notwithstanding, long and short of it is I am self-appointed spokesman for all and sundry in offering abject felicitations on auspicious event."
"Thanks, I'm sure."
They were walking side by side to the house.
"Now, dear sir," the Babu resumed, "when I was at Calcutta University--of which, as you are aware, I have honour and glory to be B.A.--I was wont to shed my light of countenance on football matches, watched young barbarians toe flying sphere. After certain amount of rough and tumble, at blast of whistle all performance ceased for brief interval, during which muddy oafs ingurgitated juice of lemons and all that."
"What are you driving at?" asked Bob in bewilderment.
"Why, sir, that interludium, denominated half-time, has parallel here and now. We are at half-time in this fateful strife. Three days and half of allotted span have expired; and I make bold to suggestion that, for refreshment and buck-up of general company, you issue orders for tamasha."
"What's that?"
"Tamasha, sir, is jollification, kick-up, regular beano--song and dance, et cetera. With your permission, I will undertake herculean labour of organization."
"My good man, you know our proverbs: 'Don't hallo till you're out of the wood'--'Don't count your chickens before they are hatched.' It's true the men have done very well so far, but the stiffest fight often comes in the second half, you know. Possess your soul in patience, Babu. If we come through safely I promise you shall have your tamasha, or whatever you call it, and I tell you what: as you seem to be a bit of a poet, why not spend your time in writing a ballad or something of the sort in anticipation?"
"Happy thought, sir. I have not hitherto built rhyme, lofty or otherwise, but I will do my level best to rise to height of great argument; I will set my eye in fine frenzy rolling, and body forth forms of things unknown at present, but justified by event. I will strike my lyre while it is hot. Good-night, sir, and sweet repose."
He waddled off, bent on a passionate quest for inspiration. Bob looked after him with a tolerant smile.
"Poor chap!" he thought. "Much learning has made him pretty mad. I wonder if we Britishers, when we pick up a smattering of their lore, strike the Hindus in the same way? I only hope his pæanwillbe justified by the event."
CHAPTER THE TWENTY-FIFTH
THE FIGHT AT THE BEND
At early morning, after a quiet night, Lawrence sent one of the men back to announce the approach of a flag of truce. Bob hurried at once to the breastwork. Three Kalmucks were advancing along the track, one of them apparently an officer. No others of the enemy were in sight. The envoys halted within a short distance of the entrenchment, and the officer began to speak in a loud shrill voice.
"What does he say?" asked Bob.
"I can't make it out," replied Lawrence. "Do any of you men understand him?"
The men, Sikhs and Pathans, acknowledged that they did not, whereupon Bob made signs to the Kalmuck to wait, and despatched a man to fetch Shan Tai, who as a western Chinaman might be able to act as interpreter.
When the cook arrived, and heard what was required of him, he shouted a few words to the officer, who responded with a speech of some length, very rapidly uttered. The purport of it was to propose terms. He offered the garrison the honours of war if they would surrender the mine and make no further opposition to the passage of the army up the valley. They would be allowed to depart unmolested, with bag and baggage; and the two white men, if they pleased, might return to their own country by way of Central Asia, through the Kalmuck lines.
Bob's reply was made without hesitation. He pointed out that the Kalmucks were the aggressors. Hostilities had not been of his seeking. All that he had desired was to live at peace and pursue his occupation as miner, whereby he gave employment to several score of workmen, including many of the officer's fellow-countrymen.
"We have been wantonly attacked," he said, "without warning and without provocation, and we are resolved to defend the property of the late owner of the mine, who was murdered by a man acting apparently in collusion with the force to which you belong. I reject your terms. But in order to avoid further bloodshed, I am willing to refer the matter to the Sirkar, and will abide by the decision of the Viceroy of the Emperor of India."
The officer had evidently come prepared for a refusal, for he at once put forward a modified proposal. He offered to leave the Englishman undisturbed at the mine if he on his side would refrain from attacking the army as it marched past. Bob saw the dilemma in which he was placed. The question was no longer a personal but an imperial one. Rejection of the offer would imply that he stood as an outpost of the Empire. But his answer was equally clear and emphatic. He declined to make terms of any kind with the enemy. The Kalmuck returned to his own lines, manifestly chagrined at the failure of his mission.
Bob expected that the rejection of the enemy's proposals would result in a more sustained and vigorous attack, and as soon as the officer had departed he set his men to complete the repairing of the breastwork which Lawrence had begun in the night. Presently the Kalmucks opened fire with rifles and field guns, and throughout the day the bombardment and sniping from the rocks intermittently continued; but there was no further attempt to rush the position. In the intervals Bob had fresh stones brought up for the repair of the breastwork, which had been considerably knocked about. The casualties among the garrison, however, were slight, and at the end of the fourth day Bob felt that he could reasonably congratulate himself on the success of his stand.
But he was still very anxious. Though the enemy had shown surprising sluggishness, he did not flatter himself that they had any idea of abandoning their task. More and more he wondered why they did not attack during the night, when, so far as they knew, the advantage would be wholly with them. For the first time since the commencement of the struggle he failed to sleep well, waking frequently, then dozing off again.
About four o'clock in the morning he was roused by the sound of two rifle shots in quick succession. Springing fully clothed from his bed, he rushed into the compound, called up the detachment whose turn it was to take duty at the breastwork, and led them at the double across the bridge and down the track. By the time he reached the position he found a furious fight in progress. The two scouts whom Lawrence had thrown out to give warning if the enemy moved had heard the tramp of men advancing, fired their rifles as a signal, and run back to join their own party. They were so closely followed by the Kalmucks, whose forms could be dimly seen in the twilight, that Lawrence had been unable to fire at once for fear of hitting the scouts, so that the enemy were within a few yards of the breastwork before they met with any resistance.
Reinforced by Bob's men, the party now opened fire with deadly effect, but the attackers were so numerous that the rush was scarcely checked. There was only time for a second volley before the head of the enemy's column surged up against the breastwork. They had held their fire until they were able to see the dark forms of their adversaries. Then their shots, fired point-blank, laid low several of the Sikhs and Pathans. Supported by the swarms in their rear they began to clamber up the rampart, in the teeth of the bristling bayonets opposed to them. On their side was the advantage of numbers: on the side of the defenders that of position; but Bob recognised in a minute that his men, ply their bayonets as they might, must soon be overwhelmed by sheer weight.
Suddenly a beam of light flashed over and past the scene of the conflict, resting on the track immediately beyond the breastwork, which was crowded with yelling Kalmucks pressing on to support their comrades. Gur Buksh in the compound had switched on the searchlight. It was not the blinding glare associated with the searchlights of forts and battleships, but it had sufficient illuminating power to show up the disorderly mass of the charging force.
For a moment it made no alteration in the conditions. Bob and his brother, with barely a score of men left to them, were hard pushed to hold the breastwork. Faster than they could hurl the enemy down at the point of the bayonet, others swarmed up. Bob was on the point of shouting an order to retire to his own original breastwork up the track when, above the shouts and yells of the combatants, sounded the characteristic rattle of the machine gun. Instantly he recognised how this might operate in his favour. The gun could not be trained on the men who were actually at grips with him, but in a few seconds it had swept a huge gap in the column advancing in serried ranks along the track, and deprived his immediate assailants of their support.
He at once took advantage of this fortunate diversion. Instead of retiring, he cried to the men to stand firm, and the desperate work at the rampart went on. For some time the Kalmucks there did not know or failed to appreciate what was happening behind them. They still pressed on and up, and but for the timely arrival of another dozen men despatched by Gur Buksh from the mine they might even now have carried the position. The reinforcement turned the scale. Bob called on his men for a final effort, and he and Lawrence flashed their revolvers in the very faces of the crowd. Fired by their example the men thrust and jabbed with redoubled energy, and in a few minutes hurled the last of the assailants back on to the track.
They found themselves in a terrifying quandary. The space between them and their baffled comrades was illuminated by the fatal band of light. The machine gun had ceased to play on the track when it was cleared of the enemy. Now there were forty or fifty men trapped in the dark wedge-like area between the beam of the searchlight and the breastwork. They knew that if any of them dared to attempt a rush back they would be the target for innumerable bullets. One or two did rashly hazard a retreat, but as soon as they encroached upon the luminous band the gun's rattle scarcely gave them warning of the shots that fell among them almost instantaneously. The rest cowered in the darkness, waiting for death.
Bob had to hold his men with a tight rein to prevent them from leaping the breastwork and massacring their despairing foes. He had thought of a better way. Fyz Ali could make himself understood by them. Through his lips Bob told them that if they laid down their arms they might retire, taking their wounded with them. They eagerly accepted the proffered mercy, but shrank from acting on it, until they were assured that a message had been sent to the havildar to refrain from firing at them. Then, utterly cowed, they handed their weapons over the breastwork, gathered up such of their comrades as were yet alive, and carried them in all haste across the illuminated space and out of sight.
This was an auspicious beginning for the fifth day. It was the greatest triumph that the garrison had as yet achieved, and the men were proportionably elated. The enemy on the other hand were dejected and despondent. For some hours they remained at a distance. In the afternoon, however, they resumed their skirmishing tactics, and under cover of a renewed bombardment crept nearer and nearer to the breastwork. When their field guns had to cease fire for fear of hitting the skirmishers, Bob decided to venture a charge, and led twenty of his best men in a sudden leap over the barricade. The enemy did not wait for the touch of the terrible bayonets. They fired a scattered volley and fled. A lucky shot from Ganda Singh's rifle brought down one of the rearmost, and he rolled down the rocks on to the track. Acting on the unconsidered impulse of the moment Bob sent two of the Sikhs to make him prisoner, and when Lawrence shortly afterwards returned to the compound for his afternoon sleep, he took the wounded man with him, and had his injuries attended to.
He proved to be an officer. Interrogating him through Shan Tai, Lawrence learnt that the general himself was on his way to the mine to make a personal inspection of the position. The Kalmuck, who seemed grateful for the attentions shown him, advised Lawrence to yield. His people's comparative inactivity that day was only preliminary to a crushing blow. "Without your flying machine," he said, "you would by this time have been destroyed. That gave you an advantage. Soon the advantage will be on our side."
"Will the presence of your general do so much for you?" asked Lawrence.
The man refused to say any more; but his manner, and the half-smile upon his face, gave Lawrence an uneasy feeling that the Mongol general must have a trump card to play. He was so much impressed by the officer's hint of a great stroke impending that instead of seeking his bed, he hurried back to inform Bob.
"What can he mean?" he asked.
"I can think of nothing but that the general is bringing up large reinforcements, and means to throw them upon us and carry the position by sheer weight of numbers. He won't care how many lives he chucks away, and everything depends on whether his men's discipline is good enough to stand the racket. I don't know how far these Kalmucks have a contempt for death like the Japanese."
"Don't you think I'd better fly a few miles down the track and see what is going on?"
"But you're tired out. You've been at it since midnight."
"That's all right. I shall sleep easier when I know what we've got to expect."
"Very well then. Don't go far, and keep high."
The appearance of the aeroplane over the track, with Lawrence and Fazl on board, was a signal for the enemy to scurry to cover. Not a shot was fired; their only thought was to escape the terrible bombs which they associated with the flying machine. But Lawrence did not intend to use his bombs. What he saw, or Fazl reported to him, proved that his stock of missiles was insufficient for any greater effect than to retard, for a few hours at the most, the inevitable crisis. Two field guns were in position at the enemy's advanced entrenchment. Near by, men had been engaged in constructing platforms for other guns, until the sight of the aeroplane sent them to cover. Farther down the track, at intervals, five or six similar weapons were being dragged up; to destroy them all, even if he were lucky enough in his aim to do so, would exhaust his stock of bombs, and he felt that he must hold some in reserve for the ultimate defence of the mine.
The track, as far as he could see it, was almost choked with men and animals. The men scattered as well as they could when they saw the aeroplane; some shots were fired at it, harmlessly. It was impossible for Lawrence to guess the magnitude of the reinforcement that was being pushed forward; but it seemed to him that several regiments must have been sent on from the main army. The bodies of mounted men were separated by long convoys of provisions and ammunition, carried on the backs of mules and camels. It almost appeared as if a regular advance of the whole force had begun. The Kalmuck general was clearly confident of his power to break the resistance of the little band that had hitherto withstood his passage.
Lawrence flew as far as the bridge; it seemed useless to go farther. He had seen what he had expected to see: a vast and overwhelming force. But he had obtained no definite clue to the meaning of the captive officer's vague hint of a master stroke. That the enemy had a crushing superiority in numbers he had known all along: there was nothing to indicate that they had anything more than the advantage of numbers still. The presence of their general might act as a stimulus; but the nature of the position precluded any marked change in their mode of operations. It was essentially a position that could be won only by dogged, unfaltering determination: the issue depended on the fighting man, not on the tactician.
Perhaps if Lawrence had continued his flight to the plain on which the main army was encamped, he or Fazl might have noticed one slight change since his former visit in Major Endicott's company. A field telegraph had been laid down, stretching away to the north. This might well have escaped his observation from the great altitude to which he must of necessity have risen. Even if he had seen it, probably it would have suggested nothing more than one of the ordinary accompaniments of an army in the field. Yet that single wire was the clue to the Kalmuck's cryptic warning.
On returning to the mine his report to Bob was necessarily disappointing. It was clear that everything still depended on blocking the enemy's advance. If they could once establish themselves on the southern side of the bend, and bring their guns to bear directly on the compounds, a few hours' bombardment would render the place untenable: it would be the beginning of the end. Against it the garrison were almost helpless. They had only ten rounds of ammunition for the captured field gun; and though the machine gun was in better case, not even the bravest of men--and Gur Buksh was that--could for long work his gun under the deadly fire of a whole park of artillery.
"Is there any possible way of strengthening our breastwork?" asked Lawrence, as with sinking hearts they discussed the situation.
"We can erect a second rampart in the night," suggested Bob. "It would take them a little longer to knock to pieces, and give us time. Every minute gained is valuable. You see, they can't bring their guns into direct line with the mine until they've driven us away, they can't do that without charging, and they can't charge without ceasing fire temporarily."
"Yes, I see that, but with four or five field guns at work they'll soon smash even a double breastwork, and then the way's clear for a charge. I wish I had bombed their guns now."
"You can do it to-morrow morning. I don't want to spend our last dynamite till absolutely the last moment. To-morrow's the seventh day. If the Chief has been able to keep his word we shall be reinforced some time during the day, and then----"
"You say 'if.' There's a doubt about it, isn't there? I've felt it all along."
"There is, of course. He may not have been able to spare the men. But hang it all! what's the good of looking on the dark side? We've held our own for a week, and even if we're smashed in the end I bet the delay is worth a good deal to India. The loss of time is a serious matter for the enemy. But for us the whole twenty thousand of them would be now on the flank of our army. I can't imagine any force of ours of the same size being checked in this way by a mere handful of men in a gorge. I dare say the reason is that the Kalmucks aren't used to hill fighting. They're best in a cavalry raid; here their horses are only a nuisance, and they're rather slow to adapt themselves to the conditions. But they've had a week to get used to them; and the worst of it is that our fellows, plucky as they are, are pretty nearly worn out."
"Do you think they'll jib if relief doesn't come?"
"What's the good? They'd only be massacred. They'll fight to the last gasp.... I say, I've got an idea. There's plenty of wire knocking about the mine: let's make a couple of wire entanglements and set them up in the night, just beyond the breastwork. If we take care the enemy won't hear us; they certainly won't see us."
"Wouldn't they notice them when they make their rush?"
"That's possible, of course; but I rather fancy they'll be so hot to get at us that they won't. The wire won't show up much against the background of rock. Anyhow, it's worth trying. Any check would give us the chance to pepper them from the breastwork, and judging by what we've seen already they'll be in a panic that they'll take some time to recover from. Now you must get a sleep, so go back to the mine and tell Gur Buksh to get all the wire he can and set all the men to work; it won't be the first time he's had such a job, you may be sure."
When Lawrence had arranged this with the havildar, and was proceeding to the house, he noticed Ditta Lal walking with an air of dejection about the compound. The Babu's hands were clasped behind his back; his eyes were bent on the ground, or rather on the intervening promontory of his person. He looked up as Lawrence drew near.
"Gigantic undertaking, sir," he said sorrowfully.
"Pretty stiff, certainly," replied Lawrence.
"Stronger word is requisite in this exigent, sir. Such task transcends the topmost rung of art. Without excessive reverence for dictum of bloated antiquity, I hold with him who sings 'born not made.'"
"Well, we can only do our best," said Lawrence, puzzled by the Babu's words.
"What shadows we are, what shadows we pursue!" sighed Ditta Lal. "After mountainous travail I produce splendiferous line; I rack my cranium for colleague or successor; but final word, whose function is to charm attentive ear, eludes, evades, crumps. To wit: 'And batters blackguards with his boisterous bomb!'--line perfect in harmony and melody and all that; but when I run through alphabet for rhyme--com, dom, fom, gom, hom, and so on till I come to blank wall atzom: not a word, sir, that fulfils mutual demand of sound and sense--not one word."
"What on earth are you gassing about, Babu?" asked Lawrence, who had not heard of his previous conversation with Bob.
"Of what, sir, but task entrusted to unworthy servant by honourable brother, to compose song of victory, ode, epic, or what not, in celebration of happy and glorious achievement about to be consummated! But I will not despair; nil desperandum; as you truly remark, we can but do our best; resources of civilisation as represented by B.A. degree of Calcutta University are not exhausted; something attempted, something done, shall earn my night's repose, of which I shall be jolly and unmistakably glad, for agony of expressing thoughts too deep for tears wrings honest brow, sir."
Lawrence feared that the stress of the situation was making the Babu mad; but he spoke a sympathetic word, and passed on.