CHAPTER THE TWENTY-SIXTHTHE DEATH TRAPThere was no alarm from beyond the bend during the night. But in the small hours the sentry at the bridge gave a loud shout, and fired southward up the track. When Lawrence rushed from the house to discover what had happened, he learnt that the sentry had seen a number of dim figures creeping towards the mine. They had now disappeared. Lawrence conjectured that Nurla Bai and his friends, who must now be nearly famished, had been attracted by the sound of guns, and stolen down in the hope of eluding the vigilance of the garrison, and gaining the path that led above their old quarters and descended on the track on the nearer side of the bend. Even if they had got thus far undetected, they could not but have fallen into the hands of the defenders of the breastwork. It was an attempt they were not likely to repeat. There was no chance of their rejoining the Kalmuck army until the defence was broken.Before morning the doubled breastwork was defended by a strong wire entanglement. Soon after daybreak the enemy began a terrific bombardment from four guns, two of which had been mounted on platforms behind the two which Lawrence had already seen in position. The garrison could make no effective reply, but could only watch their breastwork crumbling away under the shells that pounded it without intermission. The two brothers held their men some distance in the rear, as much under cover as possible, ready to lead them on and occupy the ruin of the entrenchment as soon as the expected charge began.About ten o'clock they saw Fazl running towards them from the bridge. He had been taking his turn of duty on guard at the aeroplane platform, and the fact that he had left his post seemed ominous. Rushing up to Lawrence, he exclaimed excitedly that he had heard the distant hum of an aeroplane. The boys were incredulous: they themselves were almost deafened by the roar of the guns and the crash of falling masonry. But immediately afterwards, in the interval between the shots, they caught the sound--the continuous throbbing drone, like a gigantic sewing-machine at work. They looked at each other aghast. For a moment or two they were mute: then Bob said:"You must get aloft at once. It's our only chance. Get above the aeroplane, and bomb it. There's no time to lose."Lawrence set off at a run, the Gurkha behind him. He raced across the bridge and on to the cantilever pathway, and had just turned the corner when he heard a tremendous explosion behind him. A few seconds later a large monoplane flashed by, and was soon lost to sight up the valley.Long practice had given him facility in starting. The aeroplane was ready for flight. Lawrence and the Gurkha leapt to their places, and within two minutes the machine was in the air, flying after the enemy.This, then, was the meaning of the Kalmuck officer's veiled warning. The enemy had taken a leaf out of the defenders' book. Their airmen, equipped no doubt with bombs much more destructive than Lawrence's home-made missiles, intended to strike at the very heart of the defence, and by rendering the mine premises untenable, clear the way for the advance of the army.Lawrence was fortunately cool of head and a rapid thinker. After a moment of stupefaction he saw his course clearly. The danger from the air must be met in the air. This could only be done by rising above the enemy's monoplane, and hurling his bombs down upon it. The Kalmuck pilot would be as anxious as he to avoid an actual collision, which must prove disastrous to both the machines. It was wholly a question of manoeuvring for position.The glimpse he had caught of the hostile aeroplane as it flashed by, suggested that it was a much larger and more powerful machine than his own. If this were indeed the case, he was probably quite outmatched in speed as in armament. But he saw in a moment that the possession of the smaller machine might tend to his own advantage, for he could wheel in narrow parts of the valley where the attempt would prove destructive to the enemy. Moreover, he knew the valley thoroughly; the others, though no doubt vastly superior to him in a military sense, lacked local experience and had everything to learn. Time was on his side.As soon as he began his flight he knew that he had gained one point. If the enemy had turned at his customary wheeling-place, their aeroplane would already have been in sight. The next suitable spot was several miles farther up the valley, unless indeed they should rise to a much greater height than that at which they had passed. Such an ascension would consume time; it would further make it very difficult for them to drop their bombs with any degree of accuracy. Whether they rose or continued their flight at the same altitude until they reached the wider turning-place, they would not be back for four or five minutes. Lawrence resolved to utilise this breathing space.He flew on until he reached his usual turning-place, then began to mount in a spiral course. While he was doing this, two considerations flashed through his mind. If, when he met the enemy, he should be still below them, he must fly on in the opposite direction, for the chance of being hit by a bomb, when the machines were passing at the rate of perhaps a hundred and fifty miles an hour, would be very slight. His only fear in that case was that they would fly straight back to the mine and work havoc there without a possibility of interference. If, on the other hand, he were above them, his best course would be to fly in the same direction, and try to drop his bombs on them. When two express trains are running the same way, it is possible, however great their speed, to cast an object from a carriage of one through an open window of the other.He was still ascending when Fazl shouted that the enemy's aeroplane was in sight, at a greater height."Rifle!" said Lawrence instantly, as he headed up the valley.The Gurkha fired, as the two machines rushed at terrific speed towards each other. There was no reply, but a few seconds afterwards an explosion in the valley below showed that the enemy had dropped a bomb. It would have been almost a miracle if it had hit the aeroplane in the fraction of a second of the passing. But a second explosion a little later was very perturbing. Unless he could check the enemy, they might sail over the mine again and again, and on the wider target which that presented take surer aim. Luckily they would have to fly several miles down the river before they could again turn, and the few minutes' grace might give him time to ascend still higher, and attain an altitude at which he would have the advantage.As the machines passed, Lawrence had had time to confirm his impression that the other aeroplane was much larger than his own. He saw too that it was occupied by three men. But these elements of superiority would be to some extent neutralized by the greater handiness of his own machine in navigating the narrow gorges of the valley. The situation demanded a readiness to take risks. The gorge to which Lawrence had now come after passing the enemy was so constricted that in ordinary circumstances he would never have dreamed of attempting a turning movement. But he felt the supreme necessity of wheeling at once, in order to return to the "bay" which he had lately left. There he might do something to protect the mine, if only by diverting the enemy's attack upon himself. He might also have an opportunity of rising to a sufficient height for offensive purposes.Choosing the widest part of the gorge, he banked his machine up, and clearing the cliff apparently by inches he swept round again to the north. When in half a minute he reached the turning place, the aeroplane was not in sight. But he heard sounds of a fierce struggle beyond. The bombardment had ceased, but the air was filled with the crack of rifles, the rattle of the machine gun, and the shouts of men. He could do nothing to help his brother. There was not even time to fly on and drop a bomb among the enemy: he must utilise every moment in preparing for the return of the aeroplane. He steered his machine in a series of short spirals, rising as rapidly as possible, watching the valley northward anxiously. As yet its windings concealed the enemy's aeroplane from view. It was an inexpressible relief to him that they had not attempted to turn at the spot where he now was. They had not thought it practicable, or not had the time; probably they had shot by before even the possibility had occurred to them.He swept round and round in his corkscrew flight, rising gradually until he was more than two thousand feet above the river. His view was now greatly extended, and when the larger aeroplane came in sight from round a bend nearly a mile away, he saw with a flash of hope that it was now lower than his own machine, although somewhat higher than before. Evidently the airmen had foreseen that he might rise in order to avoid their bombs, and sought to forestall him; but his narrow spiral had carried him up to a greater height than their two long inclined planes.The moment he saw them he started straight to meet them. Nothing could have been better calculated to assist his brother in the desperate struggle on the track. It was as when a charging bull is diverted from the object of his fury by the fluttering of a handkerchief or a newspaper within his range of vision. The Kalmuck airmen recognised that they had an opponent with whom they must seriously reckon; and though perhaps their general, looking on from below, would have bidden them to ignore the aeroplane, and pursue the more important duty of shattering the defences, they no doubt thought that a few minutes' or even hours' further delay would be less disastrous than the destruction of themselves and their machine. When the defenders' aeroplane was out of action, the rest would be easy.Lawrence had resolved not to imitate the enemy in hurling a bomb while the machines were flashing past in opposite directions. His missiles were too precious for one to be wasted. As the aeroplanes met, he heard two cracks, followed by two metallic thuds on the iron plates below his chassis: the enemy had fired. What effect their shots had he knew not, but neither the engine nor the occupants suffered any injury. He had already commenced a turning movement. Completing his circle, he steered straight after the enemy, who were heading directly up the valley. There had been no explosion on the track or in the mine compounds as they passed: so far his tactics had justified themselves.But Lawrence had not been more than a few seconds in pursuit before he found that in speed his machine was utterly outclassed. The enemy seemed almost to leave him standing. This was not unexpected; but as soon as he was sure of it he felt that his course of action was clearly marked out. It would be a fatal mistake to give the enemy enough air-room to take advantage of their superiority. If they got plenty of space for manoeuvring they could rise as far above him as they pleased, and either shatter the aeroplane with a well-placed bomb, or, having two rifles to one, could wait an opening for a shot that would incapacitate himself or Fazl, perhaps both. He must devote all his energy and skill to dodging and deluding the enemy, attacking them if occasion offered, in any case keeping them constantly employed. Their engine must consume a much larger quantity of petrol and lubricant than his. They must have used up a great deal in flying from their starting-place--Tash Kend, he presumed--and it was unlikely that there was any supply with the army at the end of the valley from which they could replenish their tanks. If he could only manoeuvre so as to starve them out of fuel, all their superiorities would be nullified and their usefulness would have vanished.It was a question now of calculating chances, or rather of guessing--like the children's game when one brings his closed fists from behind his back and asks another to guess which hand holds the concealed object. When the two aeroplanes were out of sight, the occupants of neither could know what the others were doing. They could only make a random shot at the probabilities. Lawrence felt pretty sure that the enemy would seek to rise to a greater altitude than they supposed him to be attaining. He therefore decided to descend at once, and hover in the lower part of the valley. A long vol plané northward brought him within a short distance of the struggle going on at the bend. As he sped by, he ordered Fazl to drop a bomb among the enemy beyond the breastwork, then swooped past, three or four hundred feet above the river, turned at the first possible spot, and flew back to meet the enemy. As he expected, they had risen to a great height. Flying low as he now was, they were probably two thousand feet above him. When they saw him, they at once began to descend; but the machines were rushing in opposite directions so swiftly that the vertical distance between them was lessened by only two or three hundred feet when they met. A few seconds after they had passed, Lawrence heard two explosions, and Fazl reported that the enemy's bombs had fallen, one in the river, the other on the cliff-side. Again they had missed their aim.Lawrence knew that they could not return within fifteen minutes. While it was important to him that they should waste their petrol, it was equally important that he should husband his, for he had very little left at the shed. It occurred to him that there would be time to alight on the platform, run to the mine to see how things were passing there, and get back in time to fly off before the enemy came in sight. He therefore wheeled round at his usual place, and in less than a minute slid gently on to the ledge. Leaving Fazl to look to the engine, he ran along the pathway, and on turning the corner saw with some astonishment that hostilities had apparently ceased. The breastwork was still manned by Bob and his party: Lawrence almost winced as he noticed how large a number of bodies lay prostrate around them. The enemy were invisible: it seemed certain that their attack had been repulsed.The mine compounds were deserted, except by Gur Buksh and two other men, whom Lawrence recognised in a moment as Chunda Beg and Shan Tai. These three were reclining against the wall near the machine gun. Every other fighting man had crossed the bridge to bear his part in the holding of the track. Lawrence felt a thrill of pride in the courage and loyalty of the cook and the khansaman, who, house servants as they were, often held in scorn by the warriors, had in this hour of peril given their assistance to the steadfast havildar.He hurried on to the compound, noting as he passed the havoc wrought by the one bomb from the hostile aeroplane which had hit the mark. Gur Buksh and the others saluted as gravely as if it were the prime of peace."What has happened?" asked Lawrence breathlessly.The havildar related how the appearance of the enemy's aeroplane had been the signal for a more ferocious bombardment than had before taken place. When the breastwork was half ruined by the shells, a swarm of Kalmucks rushed to the attack with yells of anticipated triumph, while the defenders, who had remained in comparative safety some distance away, leapt back to their places at the shattered rampart. The enemy, coming unawares on the wire entanglements, had been thrown into an unwieldy and disordered mass; and after a few minutes of desperate efforts to break through the obstacle, with partial success, they had been so withered by the defenders' fire that flesh and blood could endure no more. They had fled, a confused rabble, to their own entrenchment.There was no time for Lawrence to hear more, or to discuss with the imperturbable Sikh any measures that might be devised to assist the heroic fighters on the other bank. He knew well that the check could be only temporary, and could not think without distress of the issue of the next attack. Hurrying back to the ledge, he and Fazl got into their places, ready to fly off directly they heard the returning aeroplane. The Gurkha's ears first caught the throbbing drone, and as the machine once more rose into the air, the field guns recommenced to bark and spit.As soon as Lawrence reached his turning-place he began to climb. In a few moments he caught sight of the enemy's aeroplane skimming round the bend below the mine. It was much lower than before, probably no more than three hundred feet above Lawrence, and as soon as the airmen caught sight of him, they dipped so suddenly as almost to suggest that the machine was beyond control. But Lawrence realised that the descent was intentional. They meant to come as close above him as they could in the half mile between them. He ceased to mount, and steered straight down the valley, hugging the cliff on the left hand. The enemy followed his manoeuvre, edging to their right in order to pass immediately above him. The two aeroplanes were only about a hundred yards horizontally apart when with a quick movement of his rudder, which threw a hazardous strain upon the planes, Lawrence shot out over the river. Before the enemy could alter their own course he had passed well outside them. Their bombs, dropped hurriedly while the pilot was striving to cope with Lawrence's sudden movement, fell harmlessly into the river.The enemy's turning-place up stream being much nearer the mine than that in the opposite direction, there was no time to alight again and save expenditure of petrol. But there was time to lend aid to the defenders at the breastwork. Lawrence flew on, instructing Fazl to hurl a bomb among the enemy as he passed the bend. Two teams of horses were dragging more field guns up to the rampart. It was among these that Fazl let fall his bomb, and looking back, he shouted gleefully that one of the teams had stampeded and dashed with their gun over the bank into the river, while the other were plunging furiously amid a smother of smoke. At the same time the rattle of the machine gun announced that Gur Buksh was again at work.Lawrence did not wish to fly six or seven miles down the river to the wide bay in which he was sure the enemy had turned. To wheel round earlier involved some risk, but it was a risk from which his strung-up nerves did not flinch.About three-fourths of a mile beyond the bend, at the spot where the enemy had established themselves after their first repulse, the gorge curved to the west, and in the cliff-face there was an extensive depression, scooped out as it were by a landslip. He resolved to try his luck there. The margin was perilously narrow, and only a man absolutely familiar with the spot, as he was, and prepared for the turning movement at the very moment of reaching it, could have hoped to wheel in the space.At the critical point he banked up at a sharp angle, and for one brief moment felt a cold shudder of fear as he recognised the beginning of the sideslip that had brought disaster on so many reckless or unfortunate airmen. But the planes recovered their grip; the machine swung round across the river, having shaved the cliff on the left by an appallingly fine margin; and flew lightly and evenly up stream again.By this daring feat Lawrence had saved nearly ten miles and the equivalent quantity of petrol. He had also avoided a meeting with the enemy on the north side of the mine, where manoeuvring to dodge them would have been much more difficult. By alighting when they next passed him he would again save while they were expending, and however large their supply had been when they started, it could not much longer stand the drain of continual flight up and down the river. Even now, since entering the valley, they must have travelled a good deal more than a hundred miles; their flight from headquarters might have been three hundred. No doubt a further supply of fuel and oil had been despatched after them, but it would take a week or more to reach them over such rugged country. If he could only keep them fruitlessly employed until they were forced to leave the gorge through failing petrol, he would gain perhaps just enough time for the garrison to prolong their defence until the expected relief force arrived.Thought is quicker even than an aeroplane's flight: these hopes, conjectures, volitions flashed through Lawrence's mind in the interval between his venturesome circuit and his arrival at the bend. The bombardment had recommenced. Two guns had been got into position; others were being hauled up the track. A hot rifle fire was opened upon the aeroplane, and both pilot and passenger were struck by fragments of bullets that had splintered on the metal work. Their great speed soon carried them out of further danger, but the bomb which Fazl dropped missed its aim, exploded on the rocky bank instead of on the track, and did little harm.Lawrence guessed that the Kalmuck airmen would now suppose him to have risen, and would themselves be mounting in order to keep above him. He therefore resolved to keep low. The sequel showed that the enemy had been cunning enough to guess at his guess. When they reappeared, so far from ascending they were descending, yet gradually, so that they might adapt their course to the exigencies of the moment. They were now only two hundred feet above him.This time he decided not to rush past and continue his flight up stream, but to wheel at the turning-place, and save time and petrol by flying back in their wake to his platform. He realised afterwards that he began his turning movement a trifle too soon, though, as the event proved, his indiscretion served him well. The enemy had not quite met him when he shifted his rudder for circling round the bay. He expected them to flash by as usual at express speed, but to his intense astonishment and alarm he found that instead of continuing on their direct course they had suddenly banked over, and were wheeling above him in the same direction as himself. It was a manoeuvre of extraordinary daring, for the larger aeroplane required a much wider circle than the smaller, and in order to clear the cliffs it had to remain banked up at a dangerously sharp angle.Lawrence felt himself trapped. He could not fly out at either end of the bay, he thought, without being immediately followed by the enemy, who would then have him at their mercy. Yet he was in equal danger if he remained circling below them, for though their flight was swifter than his, at some moment their machine would be vertically above him, and they would doubtless seize that moment for hurling a bomb. He could not descend without shattering the aeroplane on the banks or plunging into the river. He felt as helpless as a pigeon beneath an eagle.It was indeed an extraordinary situation: two aeroplanes wheeling round and round in a cup-like hollow, with less than two hundred feet of space between them. The Kalmucks had not as yet fired or dropped a bomb: Lawrence imagined them gloating over their helpless victim, awaiting a favourable moment for one crushing stroke. The first shot was fired by Fazl; the enemy replied, but instead of keeping up a continuous fire, they ceased after a few shots, which riddled the planes, but hit no vital part. Lawrence wondered at their abstinence, until, following them with his eyes, he had a sudden conviction that they were in difficulties. The machine was banked up to the extreme limit of safety, and it flashed upon him that the enemy, and not himself, were caged. They could not ascend, for, a few hundred feet above them, the cliff on the west side of the stream hung forward in a jagged bluff that came within the circle of their flight. Contact with it would hurl them into the river. Nor could they leave the bay by either of the exits north or south without the risk of colliding with the cliffs, for the space was so narrow, and the speed of the machine so great, that the movements necessary for unbanking and steering could hardly be performed in the fraction of a second between their quitting the bay and running into the straight. It is one thing for a wasp to fly into a bottle, and quite another to fly out again.The machines had completed several circles before Lawrence had grasped the situation. During this time Fazl had been steadily firing, but the enemy had been silent. Suddenly the Gurkha uttered a shout; one of the Kalmucks fell from the aeroplane, and whirled over and over in the air until he struck the river and disappeared."Don't fire again!" cried Lawrence.He had become conscious that the perpendicular distance between the two planes was rapidly diminishing. The enemy's engine had not failed; their speed was the same; yet it was plain that moment by moment they were drawing nearer to the plane below. If the machines had been ships, Lawrence would have been tempted to believe that the enemy were trying to board; but he knew that a collision would be fatal to both. He was at a loss to explain the strange movement; indeed, he had little time to think of it, for he realised that unless he himself made his escape, his machine would be soon hurled to the bottom by the impact of the larger. He had not found it necessary to bank so much as the Kalmuck pilot. His lesser speed and the greater handiness of his aeroplane enabled him to fly out at the exit without the almost certainty of dashing against the cliff. At his next round he steered straight through the northern gap, and flew back in a flush of wonder and excitement to the platform.As he expected, the enemy did not follow him. Alighting he rushed to the projecting buttress and gazed up the valley. He could see the doomed aeroplane as it flashed across the opening of the bay. It was still whirling round and round, but falling, falling with ever increasing velocity. He shuddered with horror as he contemplated the inevitable end. He did not witness the actual close of the tragedy. The aeroplane as it neared the bottom was hidden from him by the rocky banks of the river. But half a minute after he himself stood in trembling safety a tremendous explosion shook the ground, and a cloud of smoke and broken rocks shot high into the air. Then there was a burst of flame, and he knew that all was over.Overcome with sickness at the terrible end of these gallant airmen, and with nervous exhaustion after his own wearing efforts, he lay flat on the rock to recover his composure. Thinking over the recent scene, he hit upon a conjectural explanation of the uncontrollable descent of the enemy's aeroplane. He supposed that, with the machine so critically banked up in order to navigate the narrow cup, the pilot had been quite unable to make those delicate adjustments of the planes and the elevator that were necessary to counteract the dragging force of gravity. Later on, when he had an opportunity of discussing the matter with his brother, Bob scouted his theory, declaring that while the petrol lasted nothing could have prevented the machine from whirling round and round. But Lawrence stuck to his opinion, and Bob very naturally declared that it was not a matter he would care to put to the test.CHAPTER THE TWENTY-SEVENTHAD INFIMOSJust as the ticking of the household clock is unnoticed, but its cessation is immediately remarked; so it was not until the coughing roar of the field guns, which had continued ever since Lawrence last soared over the bend, suddenly ceased, that he was roused to full consciousness of the critical situation at the mine. Springing up, he ran with Fazl along the pathway until he came to a spot where the whole theatre of the combat could be viewed.The noise of the guns had been followed by a hoarse babel of cries mingled with the crackle of rifles. He was just in time to see a swarm of Kalmucks surge over the breastwork, and Bob with his devoted band rushing up the track to the second rampart a hundred yards away. The machine gun beneath the north wall of the mine was silent; nobody was to be seen in the compound; and Lawrence's heart sank with dread lest the gun had been smashed, and Gur Buksh and his voluntary assistants slain.In a moment, however, Fazl drew his attention excitedly to three men lying flat on their faces upon the drawbridge. He recognised them at once as the havildar, Shan Tai and Chunda Beg. But what were they doing? Their arms were moving swiftly this way and that, like the arms of tailors sewing."See, sahib!" cried Fazl, lifting his hand and pointing in still more excitement.And then Lawrence saw that the bridge was no longer a bridge. The end which had rested on the rock in mid stream had been shattered by a shell, and Gur Buksh and his companions were working with might and main to replace the broken portion with rope. Fortunately, prone as they lay, they were for the present concealed from the enemy by the breastwork manned by the diminished garrison; but they would be in full view when they rose to return to the compound. When the time should come for the whole party to beat a final retreat, it would be almost impossible for a single man to escape being shot down.Lawrence looked down the track. Fighting had ceased. The Kalmucks who had sprung over the breastwork had been recalled. A great number were engaged in repairing and strengthening the rampart, so as to render their gunners secure from enfilading fire. Behind, another crowd was dragging more guns into position, and Lawrence noticed that there were now machine guns as well as field pieces. The fact that Bob's men were not firing seemed to indicate that their ammunition was failing. The captured field gun was now useless for lack of shells; Gur Buksh had very little ammunition for his gun, and in any case he could not return to it until his work on the bridge was finished. It was of vital importance that the retreat to the mine should be kept open. What alarmed Lawrence most of all was his certainty that, even with the bridge repaired, the little band of thirty fighters were practically cut off because they could only cross under the enemy's fire. As soon as the enemy's guns were placed, the second rampart would be knocked to pieces in a few minutes at so short a range. The garrison would be swept up the track, or shot in attempting to regain the mine. The siege would be at an end, for so determined an enemy would doubtless find some means of crossing the river, even if the defenders escaped destruction and cut down the bridge behind them. They might hold out for a little, perhaps, in the dark and narrow galleries; but as soon as the enemy played on these with their artillery, they would be rendered untenable by the deadly fumes. It seemed that before the sun went down the whole place would be in the hands of the Kalmucks, and there would no longer be any impediment to their march.The one thing needful, to prolong the struggle even for a few hours, was to bring the garrison back into the compound. There were still a few bombs left; by attacking the enemy with these Lawrence thought he might gain just enough time for the retreat. When he had done that he would fly southward to look for the relief force, and if it were in sight, urge it to haste. The mere knowledge that it was approaching would put heart into the weary garrison, and nerve them for prolonged resistance."How much petrol is left?" he asked Fazl."Eight or nine gallons, sahib--and a little paraffin also."This might suffice for a couple of hours' flight; then the aeroplane would be out of action. Anything further that Lawrence could do must then be done at his brother's side.He told Fazl what he proposed to do."I will run across the bridge and let Bob Sahib know," said the Gurkha."No; it's too dangerous. Just give a shout to attract his attention, and I will semaphore to him."A piercing cry rolled across the river. Behind his rampart Bob turned and waved his hand. Lawrence instantly signalled that he had a message to give. At the spot where he stood, while in full view of Bob, he was invisible to the enemy a hundred yards farther north. He began to work his arms in the movements of the flag-signal code. Fazl meanwhile returned to the aeroplane, tested the engine, put on board the whole remaining stock of petrol, together with lubricant and a couple of gallons of paraffin left from the quantity brought from the frontier house, and all the bombs.The conversation by semaphore took some little time. Bob wanted to know what had become of the enemy's aeroplane. Lawrence replied merely that it was out of action, without giving particulars. Having explained what he proposed to do, and obtained Bob's assent, he returned to the platform, and was soon flying up the river. At the turning-place he saw on the bank below the blackened ruins of the enemy's machine. When he wheeled round and approached the bend, he became the target for the Kalmucks' rifles, and as he had not risen very high the bullets whistled around unpleasantly near. Just before he reached the enemy's breastwork Fazl dropped two bombs; there was a double explosion, and the man reported that they had fallen apparently at the right spot, though the dust and smoke prevented him from seeing the effect.Lawrence flew on. In spite of the necessity of economizing fuel, he did not again attempt his previous risky turn, but went on until he reached the place where wheeling could be performed without danger. The track was swarming with the enemy. They did not now fire at him; he guessed that these men could hardly distinguish his machine from their own.On returning towards the bend he saw that the bombs had wrought great havoc there. One at least of the guns was dismounted: the track was strewn with prostrate forms; and near the rampart only a few men could be seen scurrying up the hillside to find shelter among the rocks. Fazl dropped another bomb, aiming as nearly as possible at the guns that were still in position. The further breastwork was deserted: as Lawrence crossed it the drawbridge was blown up, and a cheer rose from the little garrison now lining the walls of the compound.Lawrence passed up the valley. It was twenty minutes since he started from the platform. His fuel would last little more than an hour and a half. Going and returning his flight could continue for a bare hundred miles. It was now about four o'clock; in two hours the valley would be dark. If he did not sight the relieving force within less than an hour--that is, within fifty miles--he must return to the mine without the message of hope. Even if he should see it, he reflected that many hours must elapse before it could reach the mine, however much the march was forced. This consideration made him decide to shorten his flight; he must reserve enough petrol to carry the aeroplane once more over the enemy, so that he could use against them the four bombs he had left.Flying low upon the river, he recognized at every few miles the scenes of the various episodes of this prolonged contest. Here was the wide extension of the gorge where the hapless aeroplane had no doubt made its turns: just beyond was the open country where the Pathans had stood at bay against the Kalmucks; farther south, the scene of his capture by Nurla Bai. With anxious concentration he scanned the track; not a man was in sight. To obtain a wider view he swept up in a long plane, and presently caught sight in the far distance of the hill tower in which Major Endicott had been besieged. This was a clear signal that he must turn in a few minutes.Just as he was on the point of wheeling round, both he and Fazl simultaneously gave a shout. Rounding a bend of the track, about five miles away, was a column of marching horsemen. The sun flashed upon polished metal. Lawrence lifted his field glass, and after a brief glance through it uttered a second cry: he had recognized the British khaki. In the joy of this discovery he ventured to fly on for another two miles under engine power, then shut off the engine and made a gradual vol plané down to the track, alighting at an open spot about a mile from the head of the advancing force. By this time the whole of the column was in sight. It was very small in comparison with the vast horde against which it was to be pitted; there were not half as many men as he had seen within five miles of the mine, to say nothing of the thousands marching up from the north. But he noticed that it had two field guns, and a mountain battery carried on mules; and if only it could arrive in time, he had little doubt that British arms and pluck and discipline would triumph even over the great host of the enemy.Leaving the aeroplane under Fazl's care, Lawrence hastened forward towards the column. To his still greater joy he recognised in the officers marching at the head, Major Endicott himself and Captain Fenton. They were trotting forward to meet him. The Major had one arm in a sling."All well?" shouted the Major from a distance."Hard pressed, but still holding out," replied Lawrence.There were hearty hand-clasps when they met."I was afraid we should be too late--had no end of a job to get this scratch column together," said the Major. "How far are we from the mine?""About thirty miles, I think.""I hoped it was less. We've been marching all day, and the horses can't possibly do thirty miles without a rest. Just tell me how matters stand, will you?""When I left, about three-quarters of an hour ago, my brother had just been forced back into the mine.""Did he leave it, then?" interrupted the Major."Oh yes! He has till now held the enemy off some distance down the track. But their artillery was too much for us, and we're now in the last ditch, so to speak. Bob has blown up the bridge, so the enemy can't get across immediately; and my little Gurkha has done a good deal of damage among their guns with bombs; but the track is now open to them; they'll bring more guns up, and be able to pound us at point-blank range. We've lost a good many men; we've only a few rounds of ammunition left for the machine gun, and precious little for the rifles.""Dynamite?""I've got the last of it in four bombs in the aeroplane.""Can't your men shelter in the galleries from the enemy's bombardment?""For a little while, no doubt. But what I'm afraid of is that the enemy will find some means of crossing the river during the night: if they do it's all up. There appears to be a general directing operations, and after being baulked for a week he won't be satisfied until he's made a clean sweep of us.""It's touch and go, evidently. What do you say, Fenton?""We couldn't do thirty miles on this ground in less than six hours if the horses were fresh: and if we push on at once they'll collapse before we're half way there. We must have at least a three hours' rest."The Major pulled at his moustache meditatively."Aren't we near that place where you had your smash, Appleton?" he said suddenly."Yes; it's a few miles down.""Then I'll tell you what I'll do. A lot of these fellows with me are used to work on the Indus. I'll get them to make a big raft like the one your Kalmucks floated the aeroplane on, and send on a dozen in advance. The current will gain us three miles an hour; the men should get to the neighbourhood of the mine about three. If you could manage to meet them and carry them in relays into the mine they'd be of great use. I'll give you some ammunition, too. Fly back at once: the knowledge that we're coming will buck your men up; and the rest of us will hurry on as soon as possible."On reaching the aeroplane, the whole force dismounted. Lawrence was introduced to Captain Coats, the army surgeon whom he had heard mentioned in the frontier house. While some of the men placed in the cockpit as many cartridges as it could carry, others went into the wood to cut timber for the raft. Lawrence had some difficulty in starting the engine; but it ran smoothly after a little while, and taking a cheery leave of the officers he started for the north.He had come within about five miles of the mine when a prolonged miss-fire made it imperative to descend at once. Luckily there was just room for him to alight at the edge of a small wooded tract. He was the more perturbed at the delay because he heard distinctly the dull rumble of artillery fire in the north. Stripping off his coat, he began with Fazl's help to overhaul the engines. Apparently the defect was in the carburetter, but for some little time the precise origin of the mis-fire was undiscoverable. Meanwhile the depths of the valley were already shrouded in dusk, and Lawrence, never having attempted a flight by night, became more and more anxious as time went on, lest he should be overtaken by complete darkness before he regained the platform.At last the defect was ascertained and remedied. Lawrence had just put on his coat, and Fazl was in the act of replacing the plugs, when there was a sudden volley from the wood near by, and six wild and haggard Kalmucks came towards the aeroplane with a rush. The Gurkha went on calmly with his work: Lawrence snatched up his rifle and fired. One of the attackers fell; the rest dashed on only the more furiously, howling like famished animals. Lawrence fired again; Fazl started the engine; both then sprang to their places, and pressing the throttle Lawrence set the machine gliding forward.By this time the Kalmucks were within a few yards. Fazl stooped for his rifle, to take a parting shot at them. As he rose he noticed that an extraordinary thing had happened. Just as the aeroplane was lifting, one of the Kalmucks, outstripping the rest, had taken a grip of the chassis, as if attempting to drag it down. He retained his grasp a little too long, and was carried up into the air. Fazl now saw him convulsively drawing himself up to clutch one of the stays of the main plane.What had happened was hidden from Lawrence by the projecting planes. Fazl made no sound; but there was an odd look upon his face as he quietly slipped a cartridge into the breech of his rifle, took careful aim at one of the four men on the track below, and brought him to the ground."Tchigin, sahib," he said."Never mind about the Kalmucks," said Lawrence. "Just fill up the tank, will you?"Fazl laid down his rifle, took a petrol can, and poured its contents into the tank below the pilot's seat. There was nothing of haste or excitement in his manner. He tipped the can until the last drop was drained, and having set it down, rubbed his hands on his coat. Then he drew his kukuri, and bent over slowly towards the Kalmuck, who was clinging to the stay in grim and speechless terror. Fazl gazed steadily into the man's eyes. He lifted his terrible weapon; there was one swift whizzing stroke through the air; and the lost man fell headlong into the river, three hundred feet below. Fazl wiped his blade."What's that?" asked Lawrence, as the aeroplane gave a sudden upward jerk."Nurla Bai, sahib."CHAPTER THE TWENTY-EIGHTHTHE LAST FIGHTLawrence landed in the twilight on his platform. All sounds of combat had ceased. His first care was to see exactly how much petrol was left. There was enough for about twenty minutes' flight: then the aeroplane would be doomed to inactivity."Look over the machine," he said to Fazl, "and come after me when you have finished. What did you mean about Nurla Bai?""He has gone into the river, even as he sent the huzur.""You shot him? But no: you did not fire. What happened?""He came along with us, sahib. He caught the chassis as we rose, and we were gone before he could let go. He clung to the stay. I cut him down."Lawrence's blood ran cold with horror. In spite of the man's brutalities and crimes, he could not but feel moved by the terrible fate that had befallen the revolted miner. It was well deserved: yet Lawrence wished that Nurla could have met his death in open fight. He said no more to Fazl, but went along the pathway now enwrapt in darkness, to discover what had happened during his absence, and to give the garrison his promise of relief.The compounds were deserted. No lights were visible. At first he thought that the men must already have taken refuge in the galleries; but as he came to the end of the pathway he saw them all grouped at the rear of the house under the cliff, behind a mound of tailings. They were very silent. Only a sound like a multitudinous sigh broke from them when he drew near."Where's my brother?" he asked anxiously, as Gur Buksh saluted."Here, sahib: he is hurt."The group parted, and Lawrence saw Bob with his head and one arm bandaged, reclining in a long chair."Nothing very serious, I hope," said Bob with a smile, as Lawrence bent over him. "A bullet in my arm just below the shoulder, and a whack in the skull from a splinter of rock. Any news, old chap!""Yes, thank God! Endicott himself is within less than thirty miles, with three or four hundred men, field pieces and mountain batteries. There's a medico with him, so we'll soon put you to rights.""Tell the men, will you?"Lawrence gathered the men about him and quickly gave the information. A company of British soldiers would have received it with a ringing cheer: these Asiatics merely murmured praises to Allah, mingled with triumphant execrations of the enemy."It'll be as much as we can do to hold out until the Major arrives," said Bob in a low tone. "Is he coming on at once?""No, unluckily. His horses were dead beat: he said they must have three or four hours' rest, and I'm afraid he can't be here until four or five o'clock in the morning at the earliest. But he has sent some ammunition, and a dozen men are coming in advance on a raft; they should arrive about three o'clock. I intend to meet them a little way up, and bring them in on the aeroplane. I've just enough petrol left.""That's good. We're practically helpless here. They've knocked the wall about with their field pieces from the breastwork, and smashed the machine gun. We couldn't hold the wall any longer. The carbide has given out, so that we can't make any more acetylene for the searchlight, and the track's free for them now. I only hope that as they've forced the passage they won't trouble us any more, but go straight ahead in the morning. They little suspect what's in store for them!""They may possibly leave us alone, but they're hardly human if they don't try a shot or two at the aeroplane, especially when they discover what has happened to their own.""What did happen to it, by the way?"Lawrence described the incidents of the manoeuvring up and down river, and the extraordinary scene at the turning-place. It was then that he and Bob argued about the cause of the final collapse, almost forgetting their actual circumstances in discussing the scientific problem. They were suddenly recalled to realities, however, by sounds from the opposite bank--the ringing clatter of horses' hoofs and the rumble of wheels."They're moving their guns up," said Bob. "No doubt they've only been waiting for the dark. Listen! We shall soon know what they mean to do."Both chafed at their inability to impose any check upon the movement. Rifle fire from their few men would be ineffective in the darkness; it would moreover be a signal to the gunners to sweep the wall with shell. They were not long in doubt as to the enemy's intentions. The noises ceased. It was clear that the Kalmucks were going to wreak vengeance upon the garrison of the mine before continuing their march up stream. Bob recalled the old military maxim: never leave an enemy in your rear. At dawn they would no doubt open fire from the guns placed exactly opposite the mine, and as soon as they discovered the aeroplane on its platform beyond the shoulder of the cliff they would smash it to atoms."I've still a few bombs left," said Lawrence. "I might destroy their guns if I could only see them. Isn't there enough acetylene for ten minutes' light, Bob?""Not for one, worse luck. You certainly can't do anything in the dark. There's just one chance, though.""What's that?""You could light a big fire on the buttress yonder. It might show just enough light for the purpose.""I'll try it. I tell you what: I'll fire the shed itself, with a lot of combustibles inside. We can easily build another afterwards if Endicott gets rid of the enemy.""We shan't want to do that. If we're alive to-morrow morning we shan't think of staying here any longer.""Leave the mine, you mean?""Yes: take poor old Uncle's silver ore to India and sell it for what it's worth. I don't know how much that will be, but it ought to give us enough money to keep us while we're looking round for some other job: I've had enough of mining. In any case we couldn't stay here. The place would remind us too much of Uncle and all the tragic horrors.""You're right: though I don't like the idea of caving in. Now I'll get some of the men to carry grease and things to the shed. Can Chunda give me some grub? I'm very hungry.""We've got all our provisions either here or in the galleries. We were very lucky to have so much; it will last for two or three weeks more."While Lawrence made his supper, Fyz Ali and three or four other Pathans conveyed to the platform combustibles of all kinds, returning with the ammunition sent by Major Endicott. Then Bob insisted on Lawrence's sleeping for a few hours. About three o'clock in the morning Lawrence returned with Fazl to the aeroplane. They kindled several fires in the shed, leaving the door open. When the flames gave them light enough, they started the engine and flew off up the river, hearing sounds of commotion among the enemy on the track. Never having flown by night before, Lawrence was rather nervous; but he reached the turning-place safely, wheeled round without mishap, and flew northwards into the stretch of a few hundred yards now illuminated by the blazing shed.There were four bombs left. Lawrence had instructed Fazl to drop two as they passed over the guns, reserving the other two for use as they returned if they should discover that the first had not been effective. They saw two guns placed on the track just opposite the bridge. The Gurkha, leaning over perilously, let fall two bombs together. There was a terrific crash and a babel of yells; but they could not yet tell what damage had been done. The aeroplane was beyond the illuminated area, and Lawrence had to concentrate his attention on the machine as he flew northwards in the darkness. He felt that he could not risk an attempt to turn until he reached the wide space seven miles down stream, and he was very anxious lest the engine should fail for want of petrol before he could get back. It was quite clear that to bring Major Endicott's advanced party of twelve into the mine was now impossible. By the time the aeroplane should have reached its platform, if it did so, every ounce of fuel would be used up.For safety's sake he rose to a considerable height. The grey light of dawn was stealing over the summits of the hills. He turned and flew back, watching the engine nervously. As soon as he came to the neighbourhood of the mine, he saw the enemy scuttling away from the track into nooks and crannies in the face of the cliff. The sound of the propeller had been the signal for a generalsauve qui peut. Fazl dropped his last two bombs opposite the bridge, and then the aeroplane passed into the cloud of smoke drifting up and across the river from the conflagration.Lawrence saw that the petrol would not last another three minutes. He utilised the expiring power of the engine to rise still higher, so that when it failed he would be at a sufficient altitude to make a long vol plané back to his platform. He had just turned when he detected a lessening of power. The engine began to splutter; then it ceased to work.It was a terrifying moment. In the darkness he could not read the aneroid that indicated his altitude. He did not know whether the angle of the descent which had already begun would bring him to earth before he reached the platform. Gently, easily as the machine swooped down, it might land him on the track where he would be completely at the mercy of the enemy. He looked anxiously ahead. The flaming shed came in sight, but dimmed by the pall of smoke that lay over the bottom of the gorge. He steered into the smoke towards the platform, but, half blinded by the reek, he missed it, and only by a sudden movement of the lever, that was itself almost disastrous, did he save the machine from dashing against the cliff. Luckily the smoke hid him from the enemy. By another dexterous feat of steering he rounded the bend, and in a few seconds dropped with a quivering shock upon the fence that separated the Pathans' from the Kalmucks' compound. With every nerve jarring he sprang out of his seat. Fazl followed him, and between them they dragged the aeroplane from its uneasy perch and laid it behind the fence. Even now his chief thought was to protect from the enemy's fire the machine which had served him so well. Only when it was quite invisible to them did he hasten across the compound, scale the second fence in the darkness, and rejoin his brother in the sheltered nook behind the house."Just managed it!" he panted, throwing himself down. "The engine failed; I missed the platform, and came down on the fence. The chassis is rather rumpled, but no other damage done. I should have been wild if the machine had come utterly to grief.""It's more important that you're safe, old boy," said Bob. "Did you succeed?""Morning will show. Fazl declares that he hit the guns; I don't know. I wish I could have brought those men of Endicott's in. I dare say they heard me as I passed over the track, and are wondering why I didn't come down for them.""We can't help it. I only hope the Major himself started in time."Dawn was stealing down into the valley. Ganda Singh crept on all fours to the wall and peeped over. In a few minutes he returned and reported that there was nothing opposite the bridge but a mass of broken rock and metal. The guns had been destroyed. But the Kalmucks were scattered along the track between the bridge and the bend, crouching behind rocks and entrenchments which they had thrown up during the night. Apparently they were unaware of the descent of the aeroplane, and dreaded another attack by bombs.It was hardly light when a fierce bombardment broke out from the bend. Shells crashed upon the northern wall, and whistled into the deserted compounds, scattering earth in all directions, and filling the air with noisome fumes."We're safe here for the present," said Bob, whose face looked pinched and pale in the light of the morning. "But when they find we don't reply, and there's no other attack from the aeroplane, they'll bring their guns along and pound us from the opposite bank. When it gets too hot we must go into the galleries. Before they can repair the bridge and cross, Endicott ought to be here."He had scarcely spoken when a shell plumped into the house, and set it on fire. The garrison were enveloped in a mantle of smoke. But as the smoke drifted across the river, the Kalmucks, taking courage from the quiescence of the defenders, rushed forward from their shelters and began to throw a light framework over the torrent between the rock in midstream and the end of the ruined bridge. The sudden cessation of the bombardment gave Bob an inkling of what was to come; next moment loud yells from beyond the river made it clear."They're coming at us," he said quietly to Lawrence. "They must have made a bridge. We can't retreat now. You must do your best, old chap."Though Lawrence begged him to remain on his chair, Bob got up and accompanied the little band as they rushed towards the river wall to meet the storming party. They were no more than thirty; the track swarmed with the enemy. The improvised bridge would not support more than thirty at a time, so that the attackers and the defenders of the wall were equal in point of number; but the Kalmucks had posted many sharpshooters in the rocks above the track, who could fire over their comrades' heads and pick off the garrison manning the wall and the gap where the end of the drawbridge had been.It was a fierce and terrible struggle hand to hand. The defenders could deal only with the storming party; they had no leisure to attend to the half-concealed marksmen among the rocks. With bayonet, clubbed rifle, sword and miner's pick they sought desperately to stem the attack. Gur Buksh had distributed the Sikhs among the miners to give them steadiness; but the Pathans, inspired by the fury of their own leaders, Fyz Ali and Muhammad Din, needed no encouragement from the disciplined men. Shan Tai and Chunda Beg had thrown themselves into the fray with picks. Of all the little community only Ditta Lai and the Bengali servants remained in the rear; they were physically unfit to bear a part in the great fight. It was much to their credit that, at this crisis in affairs, they did not cower in frantic terror, but toiled hard to raise a rampart of boxes, tins, and bags of earth opposite the mouth of the gallery.Regardless of the fusillade, Bob and Lawrence went from end to end of the line, cheering the men, rallying them when they showed signs of being forced back by the onrush of the yelling enemy. Again and again the assault was beaten back. At one moment the end of the bridge was heaped high with the men thrust back from the wall. The river received many dead and wounded forms, and bore down some who, though unhurt, had been hurled or jostled off the bridge. But the garrison were dropping man by man. Gur Buksh, conspicuous by his height, fell to a bullet. Ganda Singh fought on, though a bayonet had transfixed his arm. Fyz Ali was shot as he was in the act of bringing the butt of his rifle down upon the head of a big Kalmuck who was forcing his way through the narrow gap into the compound. Bob, fainting from his former hurts, sank down unconscious among his wounded men. As yet unscathed, Lawrence stood in the gap, and the number of prostrate forms in front of him bore witness to his unfaltering vigour. Next to him Fazl, whose low stature rendered him immune from the sniping shots of the enemy, darted forth whenever he saw an opportunity of using his kukuri, and sprang nimbly back before he could be touched.But Lawrence's heart sank as he saw his devoted little band becoming less and less. He had no reserves. There was no limit to the number that the enemy could throw against him. The crowd on the bridge never diminished. As soon as one man fell his place was taken from behind. From sheer exhaustion the defenders could not stem the torrent many minutes longer. Their arms were aching and numbed almost to the point of paralysis. The frequent alarms and broken rest of seven days and nights were telling on their hardy frames. Lawrence, swinging his rifle like a flail, expected at every stroke that his muscles would refuse to lift the weapon for another. Missing Bob's cheering cries, he gave a rapid glance round, and seeing his brother on the ground, he was just making up his mind that the time had come for a general retreat to the galleries, their last line of defence, when there came the sudden crackle of rifles from a new direction. It was on the right. There was a cheer, very different from the shrill cries of the Kalmucks, and then confused cries all around. The firing from the rocks had ceased. At a second volley the Kalmucks on the bridge halted in surprise and hesitation. Lawrence guessed what had happened. Seizing the moment, he shouted to his men to follow him, and springing from the wall, led them in a fierce rush on to the bridge. They swept the enemy before them, cutting down one, tumbling another into the stream.On the track a disorderly terrified crowd were rushing past the bridge towards the north, masking the fire of their own guns at the bend. Behind them at a gallop came fifty sowars of the Border force, led by Major Endicott himself. They swept on through the panic-stricken mob, upon whom, as the horsemen passed, the garrison from their post on the bridge opened a withering fire. Major Endicott and his troopers pushed on and on, driving the enemy, some before them, some into the river, some up the rugged hillside. They did not halt until they reached the guns. There were a few minutes of desperate fighting about them; then the gunners were cut down, and the swarms behind were in full flight down the track. At a word from the Major half the sowars leapt from their horses, slewed the guns round, and sent shell after shell among the frenzied crowd until the whole track within sight was clear of living men. And Bob woke to consciousness to hear his brother's voice lead the men in a ringing cheer. The mine was saved; the enemy had been held in check for a week; every man had done his duty.
CHAPTER THE TWENTY-SIXTH
THE DEATH TRAP
There was no alarm from beyond the bend during the night. But in the small hours the sentry at the bridge gave a loud shout, and fired southward up the track. When Lawrence rushed from the house to discover what had happened, he learnt that the sentry had seen a number of dim figures creeping towards the mine. They had now disappeared. Lawrence conjectured that Nurla Bai and his friends, who must now be nearly famished, had been attracted by the sound of guns, and stolen down in the hope of eluding the vigilance of the garrison, and gaining the path that led above their old quarters and descended on the track on the nearer side of the bend. Even if they had got thus far undetected, they could not but have fallen into the hands of the defenders of the breastwork. It was an attempt they were not likely to repeat. There was no chance of their rejoining the Kalmuck army until the defence was broken.
Before morning the doubled breastwork was defended by a strong wire entanglement. Soon after daybreak the enemy began a terrific bombardment from four guns, two of which had been mounted on platforms behind the two which Lawrence had already seen in position. The garrison could make no effective reply, but could only watch their breastwork crumbling away under the shells that pounded it without intermission. The two brothers held their men some distance in the rear, as much under cover as possible, ready to lead them on and occupy the ruin of the entrenchment as soon as the expected charge began.
About ten o'clock they saw Fazl running towards them from the bridge. He had been taking his turn of duty on guard at the aeroplane platform, and the fact that he had left his post seemed ominous. Rushing up to Lawrence, he exclaimed excitedly that he had heard the distant hum of an aeroplane. The boys were incredulous: they themselves were almost deafened by the roar of the guns and the crash of falling masonry. But immediately afterwards, in the interval between the shots, they caught the sound--the continuous throbbing drone, like a gigantic sewing-machine at work. They looked at each other aghast. For a moment or two they were mute: then Bob said:
"You must get aloft at once. It's our only chance. Get above the aeroplane, and bomb it. There's no time to lose."
Lawrence set off at a run, the Gurkha behind him. He raced across the bridge and on to the cantilever pathway, and had just turned the corner when he heard a tremendous explosion behind him. A few seconds later a large monoplane flashed by, and was soon lost to sight up the valley.
Long practice had given him facility in starting. The aeroplane was ready for flight. Lawrence and the Gurkha leapt to their places, and within two minutes the machine was in the air, flying after the enemy.
This, then, was the meaning of the Kalmuck officer's veiled warning. The enemy had taken a leaf out of the defenders' book. Their airmen, equipped no doubt with bombs much more destructive than Lawrence's home-made missiles, intended to strike at the very heart of the defence, and by rendering the mine premises untenable, clear the way for the advance of the army.
Lawrence was fortunately cool of head and a rapid thinker. After a moment of stupefaction he saw his course clearly. The danger from the air must be met in the air. This could only be done by rising above the enemy's monoplane, and hurling his bombs down upon it. The Kalmuck pilot would be as anxious as he to avoid an actual collision, which must prove disastrous to both the machines. It was wholly a question of manoeuvring for position.
The glimpse he had caught of the hostile aeroplane as it flashed by, suggested that it was a much larger and more powerful machine than his own. If this were indeed the case, he was probably quite outmatched in speed as in armament. But he saw in a moment that the possession of the smaller machine might tend to his own advantage, for he could wheel in narrow parts of the valley where the attempt would prove destructive to the enemy. Moreover, he knew the valley thoroughly; the others, though no doubt vastly superior to him in a military sense, lacked local experience and had everything to learn. Time was on his side.
As soon as he began his flight he knew that he had gained one point. If the enemy had turned at his customary wheeling-place, their aeroplane would already have been in sight. The next suitable spot was several miles farther up the valley, unless indeed they should rise to a much greater height than that at which they had passed. Such an ascension would consume time; it would further make it very difficult for them to drop their bombs with any degree of accuracy. Whether they rose or continued their flight at the same altitude until they reached the wider turning-place, they would not be back for four or five minutes. Lawrence resolved to utilise this breathing space.
He flew on until he reached his usual turning-place, then began to mount in a spiral course. While he was doing this, two considerations flashed through his mind. If, when he met the enemy, he should be still below them, he must fly on in the opposite direction, for the chance of being hit by a bomb, when the machines were passing at the rate of perhaps a hundred and fifty miles an hour, would be very slight. His only fear in that case was that they would fly straight back to the mine and work havoc there without a possibility of interference. If, on the other hand, he were above them, his best course would be to fly in the same direction, and try to drop his bombs on them. When two express trains are running the same way, it is possible, however great their speed, to cast an object from a carriage of one through an open window of the other.
He was still ascending when Fazl shouted that the enemy's aeroplane was in sight, at a greater height.
"Rifle!" said Lawrence instantly, as he headed up the valley.
The Gurkha fired, as the two machines rushed at terrific speed towards each other. There was no reply, but a few seconds afterwards an explosion in the valley below showed that the enemy had dropped a bomb. It would have been almost a miracle if it had hit the aeroplane in the fraction of a second of the passing. But a second explosion a little later was very perturbing. Unless he could check the enemy, they might sail over the mine again and again, and on the wider target which that presented take surer aim. Luckily they would have to fly several miles down the river before they could again turn, and the few minutes' grace might give him time to ascend still higher, and attain an altitude at which he would have the advantage.
As the machines passed, Lawrence had had time to confirm his impression that the other aeroplane was much larger than his own. He saw too that it was occupied by three men. But these elements of superiority would be to some extent neutralized by the greater handiness of his own machine in navigating the narrow gorges of the valley. The situation demanded a readiness to take risks. The gorge to which Lawrence had now come after passing the enemy was so constricted that in ordinary circumstances he would never have dreamed of attempting a turning movement. But he felt the supreme necessity of wheeling at once, in order to return to the "bay" which he had lately left. There he might do something to protect the mine, if only by diverting the enemy's attack upon himself. He might also have an opportunity of rising to a sufficient height for offensive purposes.
Choosing the widest part of the gorge, he banked his machine up, and clearing the cliff apparently by inches he swept round again to the north. When in half a minute he reached the turning place, the aeroplane was not in sight. But he heard sounds of a fierce struggle beyond. The bombardment had ceased, but the air was filled with the crack of rifles, the rattle of the machine gun, and the shouts of men. He could do nothing to help his brother. There was not even time to fly on and drop a bomb among the enemy: he must utilise every moment in preparing for the return of the aeroplane. He steered his machine in a series of short spirals, rising as rapidly as possible, watching the valley northward anxiously. As yet its windings concealed the enemy's aeroplane from view. It was an inexpressible relief to him that they had not attempted to turn at the spot where he now was. They had not thought it practicable, or not had the time; probably they had shot by before even the possibility had occurred to them.
He swept round and round in his corkscrew flight, rising gradually until he was more than two thousand feet above the river. His view was now greatly extended, and when the larger aeroplane came in sight from round a bend nearly a mile away, he saw with a flash of hope that it was now lower than his own machine, although somewhat higher than before. Evidently the airmen had foreseen that he might rise in order to avoid their bombs, and sought to forestall him; but his narrow spiral had carried him up to a greater height than their two long inclined planes.
The moment he saw them he started straight to meet them. Nothing could have been better calculated to assist his brother in the desperate struggle on the track. It was as when a charging bull is diverted from the object of his fury by the fluttering of a handkerchief or a newspaper within his range of vision. The Kalmuck airmen recognised that they had an opponent with whom they must seriously reckon; and though perhaps their general, looking on from below, would have bidden them to ignore the aeroplane, and pursue the more important duty of shattering the defences, they no doubt thought that a few minutes' or even hours' further delay would be less disastrous than the destruction of themselves and their machine. When the defenders' aeroplane was out of action, the rest would be easy.
Lawrence had resolved not to imitate the enemy in hurling a bomb while the machines were flashing past in opposite directions. His missiles were too precious for one to be wasted. As the aeroplanes met, he heard two cracks, followed by two metallic thuds on the iron plates below his chassis: the enemy had fired. What effect their shots had he knew not, but neither the engine nor the occupants suffered any injury. He had already commenced a turning movement. Completing his circle, he steered straight after the enemy, who were heading directly up the valley. There had been no explosion on the track or in the mine compounds as they passed: so far his tactics had justified themselves.
But Lawrence had not been more than a few seconds in pursuit before he found that in speed his machine was utterly outclassed. The enemy seemed almost to leave him standing. This was not unexpected; but as soon as he was sure of it he felt that his course of action was clearly marked out. It would be a fatal mistake to give the enemy enough air-room to take advantage of their superiority. If they got plenty of space for manoeuvring they could rise as far above him as they pleased, and either shatter the aeroplane with a well-placed bomb, or, having two rifles to one, could wait an opening for a shot that would incapacitate himself or Fazl, perhaps both. He must devote all his energy and skill to dodging and deluding the enemy, attacking them if occasion offered, in any case keeping them constantly employed. Their engine must consume a much larger quantity of petrol and lubricant than his. They must have used up a great deal in flying from their starting-place--Tash Kend, he presumed--and it was unlikely that there was any supply with the army at the end of the valley from which they could replenish their tanks. If he could only manoeuvre so as to starve them out of fuel, all their superiorities would be nullified and their usefulness would have vanished.
It was a question now of calculating chances, or rather of guessing--like the children's game when one brings his closed fists from behind his back and asks another to guess which hand holds the concealed object. When the two aeroplanes were out of sight, the occupants of neither could know what the others were doing. They could only make a random shot at the probabilities. Lawrence felt pretty sure that the enemy would seek to rise to a greater altitude than they supposed him to be attaining. He therefore decided to descend at once, and hover in the lower part of the valley. A long vol plané northward brought him within a short distance of the struggle going on at the bend. As he sped by, he ordered Fazl to drop a bomb among the enemy beyond the breastwork, then swooped past, three or four hundred feet above the river, turned at the first possible spot, and flew back to meet the enemy. As he expected, they had risen to a great height. Flying low as he now was, they were probably two thousand feet above him. When they saw him, they at once began to descend; but the machines were rushing in opposite directions so swiftly that the vertical distance between them was lessened by only two or three hundred feet when they met. A few seconds after they had passed, Lawrence heard two explosions, and Fazl reported that the enemy's bombs had fallen, one in the river, the other on the cliff-side. Again they had missed their aim.
Lawrence knew that they could not return within fifteen minutes. While it was important to him that they should waste their petrol, it was equally important that he should husband his, for he had very little left at the shed. It occurred to him that there would be time to alight on the platform, run to the mine to see how things were passing there, and get back in time to fly off before the enemy came in sight. He therefore wheeled round at his usual place, and in less than a minute slid gently on to the ledge. Leaving Fazl to look to the engine, he ran along the pathway, and on turning the corner saw with some astonishment that hostilities had apparently ceased. The breastwork was still manned by Bob and his party: Lawrence almost winced as he noticed how large a number of bodies lay prostrate around them. The enemy were invisible: it seemed certain that their attack had been repulsed.
The mine compounds were deserted, except by Gur Buksh and two other men, whom Lawrence recognised in a moment as Chunda Beg and Shan Tai. These three were reclining against the wall near the machine gun. Every other fighting man had crossed the bridge to bear his part in the holding of the track. Lawrence felt a thrill of pride in the courage and loyalty of the cook and the khansaman, who, house servants as they were, often held in scorn by the warriors, had in this hour of peril given their assistance to the steadfast havildar.
He hurried on to the compound, noting as he passed the havoc wrought by the one bomb from the hostile aeroplane which had hit the mark. Gur Buksh and the others saluted as gravely as if it were the prime of peace.
"What has happened?" asked Lawrence breathlessly.
The havildar related how the appearance of the enemy's aeroplane had been the signal for a more ferocious bombardment than had before taken place. When the breastwork was half ruined by the shells, a swarm of Kalmucks rushed to the attack with yells of anticipated triumph, while the defenders, who had remained in comparative safety some distance away, leapt back to their places at the shattered rampart. The enemy, coming unawares on the wire entanglements, had been thrown into an unwieldy and disordered mass; and after a few minutes of desperate efforts to break through the obstacle, with partial success, they had been so withered by the defenders' fire that flesh and blood could endure no more. They had fled, a confused rabble, to their own entrenchment.
There was no time for Lawrence to hear more, or to discuss with the imperturbable Sikh any measures that might be devised to assist the heroic fighters on the other bank. He knew well that the check could be only temporary, and could not think without distress of the issue of the next attack. Hurrying back to the ledge, he and Fazl got into their places, ready to fly off directly they heard the returning aeroplane. The Gurkha's ears first caught the throbbing drone, and as the machine once more rose into the air, the field guns recommenced to bark and spit.
As soon as Lawrence reached his turning-place he began to climb. In a few moments he caught sight of the enemy's aeroplane skimming round the bend below the mine. It was much lower than before, probably no more than three hundred feet above Lawrence, and as soon as the airmen caught sight of him, they dipped so suddenly as almost to suggest that the machine was beyond control. But Lawrence realised that the descent was intentional. They meant to come as close above him as they could in the half mile between them. He ceased to mount, and steered straight down the valley, hugging the cliff on the left hand. The enemy followed his manoeuvre, edging to their right in order to pass immediately above him. The two aeroplanes were only about a hundred yards horizontally apart when with a quick movement of his rudder, which threw a hazardous strain upon the planes, Lawrence shot out over the river. Before the enemy could alter their own course he had passed well outside them. Their bombs, dropped hurriedly while the pilot was striving to cope with Lawrence's sudden movement, fell harmlessly into the river.
The enemy's turning-place up stream being much nearer the mine than that in the opposite direction, there was no time to alight again and save expenditure of petrol. But there was time to lend aid to the defenders at the breastwork. Lawrence flew on, instructing Fazl to hurl a bomb among the enemy as he passed the bend. Two teams of horses were dragging more field guns up to the rampart. It was among these that Fazl let fall his bomb, and looking back, he shouted gleefully that one of the teams had stampeded and dashed with their gun over the bank into the river, while the other were plunging furiously amid a smother of smoke. At the same time the rattle of the machine gun announced that Gur Buksh was again at work.
Lawrence did not wish to fly six or seven miles down the river to the wide bay in which he was sure the enemy had turned. To wheel round earlier involved some risk, but it was a risk from which his strung-up nerves did not flinch.
About three-fourths of a mile beyond the bend, at the spot where the enemy had established themselves after their first repulse, the gorge curved to the west, and in the cliff-face there was an extensive depression, scooped out as it were by a landslip. He resolved to try his luck there. The margin was perilously narrow, and only a man absolutely familiar with the spot, as he was, and prepared for the turning movement at the very moment of reaching it, could have hoped to wheel in the space.
At the critical point he banked up at a sharp angle, and for one brief moment felt a cold shudder of fear as he recognised the beginning of the sideslip that had brought disaster on so many reckless or unfortunate airmen. But the planes recovered their grip; the machine swung round across the river, having shaved the cliff on the left by an appallingly fine margin; and flew lightly and evenly up stream again.
By this daring feat Lawrence had saved nearly ten miles and the equivalent quantity of petrol. He had also avoided a meeting with the enemy on the north side of the mine, where manoeuvring to dodge them would have been much more difficult. By alighting when they next passed him he would again save while they were expending, and however large their supply had been when they started, it could not much longer stand the drain of continual flight up and down the river. Even now, since entering the valley, they must have travelled a good deal more than a hundred miles; their flight from headquarters might have been three hundred. No doubt a further supply of fuel and oil had been despatched after them, but it would take a week or more to reach them over such rugged country. If he could only keep them fruitlessly employed until they were forced to leave the gorge through failing petrol, he would gain perhaps just enough time for the garrison to prolong their defence until the expected relief force arrived.
Thought is quicker even than an aeroplane's flight: these hopes, conjectures, volitions flashed through Lawrence's mind in the interval between his venturesome circuit and his arrival at the bend. The bombardment had recommenced. Two guns had been got into position; others were being hauled up the track. A hot rifle fire was opened upon the aeroplane, and both pilot and passenger were struck by fragments of bullets that had splintered on the metal work. Their great speed soon carried them out of further danger, but the bomb which Fazl dropped missed its aim, exploded on the rocky bank instead of on the track, and did little harm.
Lawrence guessed that the Kalmuck airmen would now suppose him to have risen, and would themselves be mounting in order to keep above him. He therefore resolved to keep low. The sequel showed that the enemy had been cunning enough to guess at his guess. When they reappeared, so far from ascending they were descending, yet gradually, so that they might adapt their course to the exigencies of the moment. They were now only two hundred feet above him.
This time he decided not to rush past and continue his flight up stream, but to wheel at the turning-place, and save time and petrol by flying back in their wake to his platform. He realised afterwards that he began his turning movement a trifle too soon, though, as the event proved, his indiscretion served him well. The enemy had not quite met him when he shifted his rudder for circling round the bay. He expected them to flash by as usual at express speed, but to his intense astonishment and alarm he found that instead of continuing on their direct course they had suddenly banked over, and were wheeling above him in the same direction as himself. It was a manoeuvre of extraordinary daring, for the larger aeroplane required a much wider circle than the smaller, and in order to clear the cliffs it had to remain banked up at a dangerously sharp angle.
Lawrence felt himself trapped. He could not fly out at either end of the bay, he thought, without being immediately followed by the enemy, who would then have him at their mercy. Yet he was in equal danger if he remained circling below them, for though their flight was swifter than his, at some moment their machine would be vertically above him, and they would doubtless seize that moment for hurling a bomb. He could not descend without shattering the aeroplane on the banks or plunging into the river. He felt as helpless as a pigeon beneath an eagle.
It was indeed an extraordinary situation: two aeroplanes wheeling round and round in a cup-like hollow, with less than two hundred feet of space between them. The Kalmucks had not as yet fired or dropped a bomb: Lawrence imagined them gloating over their helpless victim, awaiting a favourable moment for one crushing stroke. The first shot was fired by Fazl; the enemy replied, but instead of keeping up a continuous fire, they ceased after a few shots, which riddled the planes, but hit no vital part. Lawrence wondered at their abstinence, until, following them with his eyes, he had a sudden conviction that they were in difficulties. The machine was banked up to the extreme limit of safety, and it flashed upon him that the enemy, and not himself, were caged. They could not ascend, for, a few hundred feet above them, the cliff on the west side of the stream hung forward in a jagged bluff that came within the circle of their flight. Contact with it would hurl them into the river. Nor could they leave the bay by either of the exits north or south without the risk of colliding with the cliffs, for the space was so narrow, and the speed of the machine so great, that the movements necessary for unbanking and steering could hardly be performed in the fraction of a second between their quitting the bay and running into the straight. It is one thing for a wasp to fly into a bottle, and quite another to fly out again.
The machines had completed several circles before Lawrence had grasped the situation. During this time Fazl had been steadily firing, but the enemy had been silent. Suddenly the Gurkha uttered a shout; one of the Kalmucks fell from the aeroplane, and whirled over and over in the air until he struck the river and disappeared.
"Don't fire again!" cried Lawrence.
He had become conscious that the perpendicular distance between the two planes was rapidly diminishing. The enemy's engine had not failed; their speed was the same; yet it was plain that moment by moment they were drawing nearer to the plane below. If the machines had been ships, Lawrence would have been tempted to believe that the enemy were trying to board; but he knew that a collision would be fatal to both. He was at a loss to explain the strange movement; indeed, he had little time to think of it, for he realised that unless he himself made his escape, his machine would be soon hurled to the bottom by the impact of the larger. He had not found it necessary to bank so much as the Kalmuck pilot. His lesser speed and the greater handiness of his aeroplane enabled him to fly out at the exit without the almost certainty of dashing against the cliff. At his next round he steered straight through the northern gap, and flew back in a flush of wonder and excitement to the platform.
As he expected, the enemy did not follow him. Alighting he rushed to the projecting buttress and gazed up the valley. He could see the doomed aeroplane as it flashed across the opening of the bay. It was still whirling round and round, but falling, falling with ever increasing velocity. He shuddered with horror as he contemplated the inevitable end. He did not witness the actual close of the tragedy. The aeroplane as it neared the bottom was hidden from him by the rocky banks of the river. But half a minute after he himself stood in trembling safety a tremendous explosion shook the ground, and a cloud of smoke and broken rocks shot high into the air. Then there was a burst of flame, and he knew that all was over.
Overcome with sickness at the terrible end of these gallant airmen, and with nervous exhaustion after his own wearing efforts, he lay flat on the rock to recover his composure. Thinking over the recent scene, he hit upon a conjectural explanation of the uncontrollable descent of the enemy's aeroplane. He supposed that, with the machine so critically banked up in order to navigate the narrow cup, the pilot had been quite unable to make those delicate adjustments of the planes and the elevator that were necessary to counteract the dragging force of gravity. Later on, when he had an opportunity of discussing the matter with his brother, Bob scouted his theory, declaring that while the petrol lasted nothing could have prevented the machine from whirling round and round. But Lawrence stuck to his opinion, and Bob very naturally declared that it was not a matter he would care to put to the test.
CHAPTER THE TWENTY-SEVENTH
AD INFIMOS
Just as the ticking of the household clock is unnoticed, but its cessation is immediately remarked; so it was not until the coughing roar of the field guns, which had continued ever since Lawrence last soared over the bend, suddenly ceased, that he was roused to full consciousness of the critical situation at the mine. Springing up, he ran with Fazl along the pathway until he came to a spot where the whole theatre of the combat could be viewed.
The noise of the guns had been followed by a hoarse babel of cries mingled with the crackle of rifles. He was just in time to see a swarm of Kalmucks surge over the breastwork, and Bob with his devoted band rushing up the track to the second rampart a hundred yards away. The machine gun beneath the north wall of the mine was silent; nobody was to be seen in the compound; and Lawrence's heart sank with dread lest the gun had been smashed, and Gur Buksh and his voluntary assistants slain.
In a moment, however, Fazl drew his attention excitedly to three men lying flat on their faces upon the drawbridge. He recognised them at once as the havildar, Shan Tai and Chunda Beg. But what were they doing? Their arms were moving swiftly this way and that, like the arms of tailors sewing.
"See, sahib!" cried Fazl, lifting his hand and pointing in still more excitement.
And then Lawrence saw that the bridge was no longer a bridge. The end which had rested on the rock in mid stream had been shattered by a shell, and Gur Buksh and his companions were working with might and main to replace the broken portion with rope. Fortunately, prone as they lay, they were for the present concealed from the enemy by the breastwork manned by the diminished garrison; but they would be in full view when they rose to return to the compound. When the time should come for the whole party to beat a final retreat, it would be almost impossible for a single man to escape being shot down.
Lawrence looked down the track. Fighting had ceased. The Kalmucks who had sprung over the breastwork had been recalled. A great number were engaged in repairing and strengthening the rampart, so as to render their gunners secure from enfilading fire. Behind, another crowd was dragging more guns into position, and Lawrence noticed that there were now machine guns as well as field pieces. The fact that Bob's men were not firing seemed to indicate that their ammunition was failing. The captured field gun was now useless for lack of shells; Gur Buksh had very little ammunition for his gun, and in any case he could not return to it until his work on the bridge was finished. It was of vital importance that the retreat to the mine should be kept open. What alarmed Lawrence most of all was his certainty that, even with the bridge repaired, the little band of thirty fighters were practically cut off because they could only cross under the enemy's fire. As soon as the enemy's guns were placed, the second rampart would be knocked to pieces in a few minutes at so short a range. The garrison would be swept up the track, or shot in attempting to regain the mine. The siege would be at an end, for so determined an enemy would doubtless find some means of crossing the river, even if the defenders escaped destruction and cut down the bridge behind them. They might hold out for a little, perhaps, in the dark and narrow galleries; but as soon as the enemy played on these with their artillery, they would be rendered untenable by the deadly fumes. It seemed that before the sun went down the whole place would be in the hands of the Kalmucks, and there would no longer be any impediment to their march.
The one thing needful, to prolong the struggle even for a few hours, was to bring the garrison back into the compound. There were still a few bombs left; by attacking the enemy with these Lawrence thought he might gain just enough time for the retreat. When he had done that he would fly southward to look for the relief force, and if it were in sight, urge it to haste. The mere knowledge that it was approaching would put heart into the weary garrison, and nerve them for prolonged resistance.
"How much petrol is left?" he asked Fazl.
"Eight or nine gallons, sahib--and a little paraffin also."
This might suffice for a couple of hours' flight; then the aeroplane would be out of action. Anything further that Lawrence could do must then be done at his brother's side.
He told Fazl what he proposed to do.
"I will run across the bridge and let Bob Sahib know," said the Gurkha.
"No; it's too dangerous. Just give a shout to attract his attention, and I will semaphore to him."
A piercing cry rolled across the river. Behind his rampart Bob turned and waved his hand. Lawrence instantly signalled that he had a message to give. At the spot where he stood, while in full view of Bob, he was invisible to the enemy a hundred yards farther north. He began to work his arms in the movements of the flag-signal code. Fazl meanwhile returned to the aeroplane, tested the engine, put on board the whole remaining stock of petrol, together with lubricant and a couple of gallons of paraffin left from the quantity brought from the frontier house, and all the bombs.
The conversation by semaphore took some little time. Bob wanted to know what had become of the enemy's aeroplane. Lawrence replied merely that it was out of action, without giving particulars. Having explained what he proposed to do, and obtained Bob's assent, he returned to the platform, and was soon flying up the river. At the turning-place he saw on the bank below the blackened ruins of the enemy's machine. When he wheeled round and approached the bend, he became the target for the Kalmucks' rifles, and as he had not risen very high the bullets whistled around unpleasantly near. Just before he reached the enemy's breastwork Fazl dropped two bombs; there was a double explosion, and the man reported that they had fallen apparently at the right spot, though the dust and smoke prevented him from seeing the effect.
Lawrence flew on. In spite of the necessity of economizing fuel, he did not again attempt his previous risky turn, but went on until he reached the place where wheeling could be performed without danger. The track was swarming with the enemy. They did not now fire at him; he guessed that these men could hardly distinguish his machine from their own.
On returning towards the bend he saw that the bombs had wrought great havoc there. One at least of the guns was dismounted: the track was strewn with prostrate forms; and near the rampart only a few men could be seen scurrying up the hillside to find shelter among the rocks. Fazl dropped another bomb, aiming as nearly as possible at the guns that were still in position. The further breastwork was deserted: as Lawrence crossed it the drawbridge was blown up, and a cheer rose from the little garrison now lining the walls of the compound.
Lawrence passed up the valley. It was twenty minutes since he started from the platform. His fuel would last little more than an hour and a half. Going and returning his flight could continue for a bare hundred miles. It was now about four o'clock; in two hours the valley would be dark. If he did not sight the relieving force within less than an hour--that is, within fifty miles--he must return to the mine without the message of hope. Even if he should see it, he reflected that many hours must elapse before it could reach the mine, however much the march was forced. This consideration made him decide to shorten his flight; he must reserve enough petrol to carry the aeroplane once more over the enemy, so that he could use against them the four bombs he had left.
Flying low upon the river, he recognized at every few miles the scenes of the various episodes of this prolonged contest. Here was the wide extension of the gorge where the hapless aeroplane had no doubt made its turns: just beyond was the open country where the Pathans had stood at bay against the Kalmucks; farther south, the scene of his capture by Nurla Bai. With anxious concentration he scanned the track; not a man was in sight. To obtain a wider view he swept up in a long plane, and presently caught sight in the far distance of the hill tower in which Major Endicott had been besieged. This was a clear signal that he must turn in a few minutes.
Just as he was on the point of wheeling round, both he and Fazl simultaneously gave a shout. Rounding a bend of the track, about five miles away, was a column of marching horsemen. The sun flashed upon polished metal. Lawrence lifted his field glass, and after a brief glance through it uttered a second cry: he had recognized the British khaki. In the joy of this discovery he ventured to fly on for another two miles under engine power, then shut off the engine and made a gradual vol plané down to the track, alighting at an open spot about a mile from the head of the advancing force. By this time the whole of the column was in sight. It was very small in comparison with the vast horde against which it was to be pitted; there were not half as many men as he had seen within five miles of the mine, to say nothing of the thousands marching up from the north. But he noticed that it had two field guns, and a mountain battery carried on mules; and if only it could arrive in time, he had little doubt that British arms and pluck and discipline would triumph even over the great host of the enemy.
Leaving the aeroplane under Fazl's care, Lawrence hastened forward towards the column. To his still greater joy he recognised in the officers marching at the head, Major Endicott himself and Captain Fenton. They were trotting forward to meet him. The Major had one arm in a sling.
"All well?" shouted the Major from a distance.
"Hard pressed, but still holding out," replied Lawrence.
There were hearty hand-clasps when they met.
"I was afraid we should be too late--had no end of a job to get this scratch column together," said the Major. "How far are we from the mine?"
"About thirty miles, I think."
"I hoped it was less. We've been marching all day, and the horses can't possibly do thirty miles without a rest. Just tell me how matters stand, will you?"
"When I left, about three-quarters of an hour ago, my brother had just been forced back into the mine."
"Did he leave it, then?" interrupted the Major.
"Oh yes! He has till now held the enemy off some distance down the track. But their artillery was too much for us, and we're now in the last ditch, so to speak. Bob has blown up the bridge, so the enemy can't get across immediately; and my little Gurkha has done a good deal of damage among their guns with bombs; but the track is now open to them; they'll bring more guns up, and be able to pound us at point-blank range. We've lost a good many men; we've only a few rounds of ammunition left for the machine gun, and precious little for the rifles."
"Dynamite?"
"I've got the last of it in four bombs in the aeroplane."
"Can't your men shelter in the galleries from the enemy's bombardment?"
"For a little while, no doubt. But what I'm afraid of is that the enemy will find some means of crossing the river during the night: if they do it's all up. There appears to be a general directing operations, and after being baulked for a week he won't be satisfied until he's made a clean sweep of us."
"It's touch and go, evidently. What do you say, Fenton?"
"We couldn't do thirty miles on this ground in less than six hours if the horses were fresh: and if we push on at once they'll collapse before we're half way there. We must have at least a three hours' rest."
The Major pulled at his moustache meditatively.
"Aren't we near that place where you had your smash, Appleton?" he said suddenly.
"Yes; it's a few miles down."
"Then I'll tell you what I'll do. A lot of these fellows with me are used to work on the Indus. I'll get them to make a big raft like the one your Kalmucks floated the aeroplane on, and send on a dozen in advance. The current will gain us three miles an hour; the men should get to the neighbourhood of the mine about three. If you could manage to meet them and carry them in relays into the mine they'd be of great use. I'll give you some ammunition, too. Fly back at once: the knowledge that we're coming will buck your men up; and the rest of us will hurry on as soon as possible."
On reaching the aeroplane, the whole force dismounted. Lawrence was introduced to Captain Coats, the army surgeon whom he had heard mentioned in the frontier house. While some of the men placed in the cockpit as many cartridges as it could carry, others went into the wood to cut timber for the raft. Lawrence had some difficulty in starting the engine; but it ran smoothly after a little while, and taking a cheery leave of the officers he started for the north.
He had come within about five miles of the mine when a prolonged miss-fire made it imperative to descend at once. Luckily there was just room for him to alight at the edge of a small wooded tract. He was the more perturbed at the delay because he heard distinctly the dull rumble of artillery fire in the north. Stripping off his coat, he began with Fazl's help to overhaul the engines. Apparently the defect was in the carburetter, but for some little time the precise origin of the mis-fire was undiscoverable. Meanwhile the depths of the valley were already shrouded in dusk, and Lawrence, never having attempted a flight by night, became more and more anxious as time went on, lest he should be overtaken by complete darkness before he regained the platform.
At last the defect was ascertained and remedied. Lawrence had just put on his coat, and Fazl was in the act of replacing the plugs, when there was a sudden volley from the wood near by, and six wild and haggard Kalmucks came towards the aeroplane with a rush. The Gurkha went on calmly with his work: Lawrence snatched up his rifle and fired. One of the attackers fell; the rest dashed on only the more furiously, howling like famished animals. Lawrence fired again; Fazl started the engine; both then sprang to their places, and pressing the throttle Lawrence set the machine gliding forward.
By this time the Kalmucks were within a few yards. Fazl stooped for his rifle, to take a parting shot at them. As he rose he noticed that an extraordinary thing had happened. Just as the aeroplane was lifting, one of the Kalmucks, outstripping the rest, had taken a grip of the chassis, as if attempting to drag it down. He retained his grasp a little too long, and was carried up into the air. Fazl now saw him convulsively drawing himself up to clutch one of the stays of the main plane.
What had happened was hidden from Lawrence by the projecting planes. Fazl made no sound; but there was an odd look upon his face as he quietly slipped a cartridge into the breech of his rifle, took careful aim at one of the four men on the track below, and brought him to the ground.
"Tchigin, sahib," he said.
"Never mind about the Kalmucks," said Lawrence. "Just fill up the tank, will you?"
Fazl laid down his rifle, took a petrol can, and poured its contents into the tank below the pilot's seat. There was nothing of haste or excitement in his manner. He tipped the can until the last drop was drained, and having set it down, rubbed his hands on his coat. Then he drew his kukuri, and bent over slowly towards the Kalmuck, who was clinging to the stay in grim and speechless terror. Fazl gazed steadily into the man's eyes. He lifted his terrible weapon; there was one swift whizzing stroke through the air; and the lost man fell headlong into the river, three hundred feet below. Fazl wiped his blade.
"What's that?" asked Lawrence, as the aeroplane gave a sudden upward jerk.
"Nurla Bai, sahib."
CHAPTER THE TWENTY-EIGHTH
THE LAST FIGHT
Lawrence landed in the twilight on his platform. All sounds of combat had ceased. His first care was to see exactly how much petrol was left. There was enough for about twenty minutes' flight: then the aeroplane would be doomed to inactivity.
"Look over the machine," he said to Fazl, "and come after me when you have finished. What did you mean about Nurla Bai?"
"He has gone into the river, even as he sent the huzur."
"You shot him? But no: you did not fire. What happened?"
"He came along with us, sahib. He caught the chassis as we rose, and we were gone before he could let go. He clung to the stay. I cut him down."
Lawrence's blood ran cold with horror. In spite of the man's brutalities and crimes, he could not but feel moved by the terrible fate that had befallen the revolted miner. It was well deserved: yet Lawrence wished that Nurla could have met his death in open fight. He said no more to Fazl, but went along the pathway now enwrapt in darkness, to discover what had happened during his absence, and to give the garrison his promise of relief.
The compounds were deserted. No lights were visible. At first he thought that the men must already have taken refuge in the galleries; but as he came to the end of the pathway he saw them all grouped at the rear of the house under the cliff, behind a mound of tailings. They were very silent. Only a sound like a multitudinous sigh broke from them when he drew near.
"Where's my brother?" he asked anxiously, as Gur Buksh saluted.
"Here, sahib: he is hurt."
The group parted, and Lawrence saw Bob with his head and one arm bandaged, reclining in a long chair.
"Nothing very serious, I hope," said Bob with a smile, as Lawrence bent over him. "A bullet in my arm just below the shoulder, and a whack in the skull from a splinter of rock. Any news, old chap!"
"Yes, thank God! Endicott himself is within less than thirty miles, with three or four hundred men, field pieces and mountain batteries. There's a medico with him, so we'll soon put you to rights."
"Tell the men, will you?"
Lawrence gathered the men about him and quickly gave the information. A company of British soldiers would have received it with a ringing cheer: these Asiatics merely murmured praises to Allah, mingled with triumphant execrations of the enemy.
"It'll be as much as we can do to hold out until the Major arrives," said Bob in a low tone. "Is he coming on at once?"
"No, unluckily. His horses were dead beat: he said they must have three or four hours' rest, and I'm afraid he can't be here until four or five o'clock in the morning at the earliest. But he has sent some ammunition, and a dozen men are coming in advance on a raft; they should arrive about three o'clock. I intend to meet them a little way up, and bring them in on the aeroplane. I've just enough petrol left."
"That's good. We're practically helpless here. They've knocked the wall about with their field pieces from the breastwork, and smashed the machine gun. We couldn't hold the wall any longer. The carbide has given out, so that we can't make any more acetylene for the searchlight, and the track's free for them now. I only hope that as they've forced the passage they won't trouble us any more, but go straight ahead in the morning. They little suspect what's in store for them!"
"They may possibly leave us alone, but they're hardly human if they don't try a shot or two at the aeroplane, especially when they discover what has happened to their own."
"What did happen to it, by the way?"
Lawrence described the incidents of the manoeuvring up and down river, and the extraordinary scene at the turning-place. It was then that he and Bob argued about the cause of the final collapse, almost forgetting their actual circumstances in discussing the scientific problem. They were suddenly recalled to realities, however, by sounds from the opposite bank--the ringing clatter of horses' hoofs and the rumble of wheels.
"They're moving their guns up," said Bob. "No doubt they've only been waiting for the dark. Listen! We shall soon know what they mean to do."
Both chafed at their inability to impose any check upon the movement. Rifle fire from their few men would be ineffective in the darkness; it would moreover be a signal to the gunners to sweep the wall with shell. They were not long in doubt as to the enemy's intentions. The noises ceased. It was clear that the Kalmucks were going to wreak vengeance upon the garrison of the mine before continuing their march up stream. Bob recalled the old military maxim: never leave an enemy in your rear. At dawn they would no doubt open fire from the guns placed exactly opposite the mine, and as soon as they discovered the aeroplane on its platform beyond the shoulder of the cliff they would smash it to atoms.
"I've still a few bombs left," said Lawrence. "I might destroy their guns if I could only see them. Isn't there enough acetylene for ten minutes' light, Bob?"
"Not for one, worse luck. You certainly can't do anything in the dark. There's just one chance, though."
"What's that?"
"You could light a big fire on the buttress yonder. It might show just enough light for the purpose."
"I'll try it. I tell you what: I'll fire the shed itself, with a lot of combustibles inside. We can easily build another afterwards if Endicott gets rid of the enemy."
"We shan't want to do that. If we're alive to-morrow morning we shan't think of staying here any longer."
"Leave the mine, you mean?"
"Yes: take poor old Uncle's silver ore to India and sell it for what it's worth. I don't know how much that will be, but it ought to give us enough money to keep us while we're looking round for some other job: I've had enough of mining. In any case we couldn't stay here. The place would remind us too much of Uncle and all the tragic horrors."
"You're right: though I don't like the idea of caving in. Now I'll get some of the men to carry grease and things to the shed. Can Chunda give me some grub? I'm very hungry."
"We've got all our provisions either here or in the galleries. We were very lucky to have so much; it will last for two or three weeks more."
While Lawrence made his supper, Fyz Ali and three or four other Pathans conveyed to the platform combustibles of all kinds, returning with the ammunition sent by Major Endicott. Then Bob insisted on Lawrence's sleeping for a few hours. About three o'clock in the morning Lawrence returned with Fazl to the aeroplane. They kindled several fires in the shed, leaving the door open. When the flames gave them light enough, they started the engine and flew off up the river, hearing sounds of commotion among the enemy on the track. Never having flown by night before, Lawrence was rather nervous; but he reached the turning-place safely, wheeled round without mishap, and flew northwards into the stretch of a few hundred yards now illuminated by the blazing shed.
There were four bombs left. Lawrence had instructed Fazl to drop two as they passed over the guns, reserving the other two for use as they returned if they should discover that the first had not been effective. They saw two guns placed on the track just opposite the bridge. The Gurkha, leaning over perilously, let fall two bombs together. There was a terrific crash and a babel of yells; but they could not yet tell what damage had been done. The aeroplane was beyond the illuminated area, and Lawrence had to concentrate his attention on the machine as he flew northwards in the darkness. He felt that he could not risk an attempt to turn until he reached the wide space seven miles down stream, and he was very anxious lest the engine should fail for want of petrol before he could get back. It was quite clear that to bring Major Endicott's advanced party of twelve into the mine was now impossible. By the time the aeroplane should have reached its platform, if it did so, every ounce of fuel would be used up.
For safety's sake he rose to a considerable height. The grey light of dawn was stealing over the summits of the hills. He turned and flew back, watching the engine nervously. As soon as he came to the neighbourhood of the mine, he saw the enemy scuttling away from the track into nooks and crannies in the face of the cliff. The sound of the propeller had been the signal for a generalsauve qui peut. Fazl dropped his last two bombs opposite the bridge, and then the aeroplane passed into the cloud of smoke drifting up and across the river from the conflagration.
Lawrence saw that the petrol would not last another three minutes. He utilised the expiring power of the engine to rise still higher, so that when it failed he would be at a sufficient altitude to make a long vol plané back to his platform. He had just turned when he detected a lessening of power. The engine began to splutter; then it ceased to work.
It was a terrifying moment. In the darkness he could not read the aneroid that indicated his altitude. He did not know whether the angle of the descent which had already begun would bring him to earth before he reached the platform. Gently, easily as the machine swooped down, it might land him on the track where he would be completely at the mercy of the enemy. He looked anxiously ahead. The flaming shed came in sight, but dimmed by the pall of smoke that lay over the bottom of the gorge. He steered into the smoke towards the platform, but, half blinded by the reek, he missed it, and only by a sudden movement of the lever, that was itself almost disastrous, did he save the machine from dashing against the cliff. Luckily the smoke hid him from the enemy. By another dexterous feat of steering he rounded the bend, and in a few seconds dropped with a quivering shock upon the fence that separated the Pathans' from the Kalmucks' compound. With every nerve jarring he sprang out of his seat. Fazl followed him, and between them they dragged the aeroplane from its uneasy perch and laid it behind the fence. Even now his chief thought was to protect from the enemy's fire the machine which had served him so well. Only when it was quite invisible to them did he hasten across the compound, scale the second fence in the darkness, and rejoin his brother in the sheltered nook behind the house.
"Just managed it!" he panted, throwing himself down. "The engine failed; I missed the platform, and came down on the fence. The chassis is rather rumpled, but no other damage done. I should have been wild if the machine had come utterly to grief."
"It's more important that you're safe, old boy," said Bob. "Did you succeed?"
"Morning will show. Fazl declares that he hit the guns; I don't know. I wish I could have brought those men of Endicott's in. I dare say they heard me as I passed over the track, and are wondering why I didn't come down for them."
"We can't help it. I only hope the Major himself started in time."
Dawn was stealing down into the valley. Ganda Singh crept on all fours to the wall and peeped over. In a few minutes he returned and reported that there was nothing opposite the bridge but a mass of broken rock and metal. The guns had been destroyed. But the Kalmucks were scattered along the track between the bridge and the bend, crouching behind rocks and entrenchments which they had thrown up during the night. Apparently they were unaware of the descent of the aeroplane, and dreaded another attack by bombs.
It was hardly light when a fierce bombardment broke out from the bend. Shells crashed upon the northern wall, and whistled into the deserted compounds, scattering earth in all directions, and filling the air with noisome fumes.
"We're safe here for the present," said Bob, whose face looked pinched and pale in the light of the morning. "But when they find we don't reply, and there's no other attack from the aeroplane, they'll bring their guns along and pound us from the opposite bank. When it gets too hot we must go into the galleries. Before they can repair the bridge and cross, Endicott ought to be here."
He had scarcely spoken when a shell plumped into the house, and set it on fire. The garrison were enveloped in a mantle of smoke. But as the smoke drifted across the river, the Kalmucks, taking courage from the quiescence of the defenders, rushed forward from their shelters and began to throw a light framework over the torrent between the rock in midstream and the end of the ruined bridge. The sudden cessation of the bombardment gave Bob an inkling of what was to come; next moment loud yells from beyond the river made it clear.
"They're coming at us," he said quietly to Lawrence. "They must have made a bridge. We can't retreat now. You must do your best, old chap."
Though Lawrence begged him to remain on his chair, Bob got up and accompanied the little band as they rushed towards the river wall to meet the storming party. They were no more than thirty; the track swarmed with the enemy. The improvised bridge would not support more than thirty at a time, so that the attackers and the defenders of the wall were equal in point of number; but the Kalmucks had posted many sharpshooters in the rocks above the track, who could fire over their comrades' heads and pick off the garrison manning the wall and the gap where the end of the drawbridge had been.
It was a fierce and terrible struggle hand to hand. The defenders could deal only with the storming party; they had no leisure to attend to the half-concealed marksmen among the rocks. With bayonet, clubbed rifle, sword and miner's pick they sought desperately to stem the attack. Gur Buksh had distributed the Sikhs among the miners to give them steadiness; but the Pathans, inspired by the fury of their own leaders, Fyz Ali and Muhammad Din, needed no encouragement from the disciplined men. Shan Tai and Chunda Beg had thrown themselves into the fray with picks. Of all the little community only Ditta Lai and the Bengali servants remained in the rear; they were physically unfit to bear a part in the great fight. It was much to their credit that, at this crisis in affairs, they did not cower in frantic terror, but toiled hard to raise a rampart of boxes, tins, and bags of earth opposite the mouth of the gallery.
Regardless of the fusillade, Bob and Lawrence went from end to end of the line, cheering the men, rallying them when they showed signs of being forced back by the onrush of the yelling enemy. Again and again the assault was beaten back. At one moment the end of the bridge was heaped high with the men thrust back from the wall. The river received many dead and wounded forms, and bore down some who, though unhurt, had been hurled or jostled off the bridge. But the garrison were dropping man by man. Gur Buksh, conspicuous by his height, fell to a bullet. Ganda Singh fought on, though a bayonet had transfixed his arm. Fyz Ali was shot as he was in the act of bringing the butt of his rifle down upon the head of a big Kalmuck who was forcing his way through the narrow gap into the compound. Bob, fainting from his former hurts, sank down unconscious among his wounded men. As yet unscathed, Lawrence stood in the gap, and the number of prostrate forms in front of him bore witness to his unfaltering vigour. Next to him Fazl, whose low stature rendered him immune from the sniping shots of the enemy, darted forth whenever he saw an opportunity of using his kukuri, and sprang nimbly back before he could be touched.
But Lawrence's heart sank as he saw his devoted little band becoming less and less. He had no reserves. There was no limit to the number that the enemy could throw against him. The crowd on the bridge never diminished. As soon as one man fell his place was taken from behind. From sheer exhaustion the defenders could not stem the torrent many minutes longer. Their arms were aching and numbed almost to the point of paralysis. The frequent alarms and broken rest of seven days and nights were telling on their hardy frames. Lawrence, swinging his rifle like a flail, expected at every stroke that his muscles would refuse to lift the weapon for another. Missing Bob's cheering cries, he gave a rapid glance round, and seeing his brother on the ground, he was just making up his mind that the time had come for a general retreat to the galleries, their last line of defence, when there came the sudden crackle of rifles from a new direction. It was on the right. There was a cheer, very different from the shrill cries of the Kalmucks, and then confused cries all around. The firing from the rocks had ceased. At a second volley the Kalmucks on the bridge halted in surprise and hesitation. Lawrence guessed what had happened. Seizing the moment, he shouted to his men to follow him, and springing from the wall, led them in a fierce rush on to the bridge. They swept the enemy before them, cutting down one, tumbling another into the stream.
On the track a disorderly terrified crowd were rushing past the bridge towards the north, masking the fire of their own guns at the bend. Behind them at a gallop came fifty sowars of the Border force, led by Major Endicott himself. They swept on through the panic-stricken mob, upon whom, as the horsemen passed, the garrison from their post on the bridge opened a withering fire. Major Endicott and his troopers pushed on and on, driving the enemy, some before them, some into the river, some up the rugged hillside. They did not halt until they reached the guns. There were a few minutes of desperate fighting about them; then the gunners were cut down, and the swarms behind were in full flight down the track. At a word from the Major half the sowars leapt from their horses, slewed the guns round, and sent shell after shell among the frenzied crowd until the whole track within sight was clear of living men. And Bob woke to consciousness to hear his brother's voice lead the men in a ringing cheer. The mine was saved; the enemy had been held in check for a week; every man had done his duty.