CHAPTER THE TWENTY-NINTHREUNIONMajor Endicott left his men at the bend, and galloped back to the bridge. Dismounting there, he pressed Lawrence's hand warmly."Well played, sir!" he said. "Where's your brother?""In the compound, Major. He's all right, I think: that is, he wasn't hit this morning; but he was wounded yesterday, and is rather off colour.""The doctor will be up in a few minutes. He was just behind me; and Fenton will arrive with the rest of the men and the guns in about an hour. I pushed on ahead when I heard the bombardment.""Just in time! We couldn't have held out another five minutes.""I'm glad we managed it," said the Major simply."Come and see Bob. They've burnt our house, and we can't make you very comfortable.""My dear boy, comfort is ruin to a soldier. Ah! here's Coats; he'd better have a look at your brother at once."The doctor rode up with another score of troopers. These the Major ordered to remain on guard at the bridge, in case the Kalmucks who were still scattered here and there on the track and the hillside should show any disposition to rally. Then the two officers crossed with Lawrence into the compound. Bob had been carried back to his chair by Shan Tai and the khansaman. The doctor made a brief examination of his wounds, got out some lint and lotion, and as he bandaged him declared that he would be quite sound in a few days. Then he went off to attend to the other wounded--almost every man of the little company. Ten had been killed outright; two were so severely injured that recovery was hopeless; the rest would be well sooner or later. Among these were Fyz Ali and Gur Buksh, though the Sikh's arm had to be amputated."I was never so glad of anything as I am to hand things over to you, Major," said Bob.Major Endicott was seated on an upturned box beside his chair, with a biscuit in one hand and a hunk of corned beef in the other."Well, you know, I feel rather mean," he said munching. "Capital stuff, this! ... All the credit is yours and Lawrence's, and I shan't fail to say so. It's a thousand pities you are not both in the service. By the way, I saw as I came up that your aeroplane had come to grief, and it was a great relief to see Lawrence safe and sound.""It wasn't ours," replied Bob, who then related in brief the events of the previous day."That's amazing. Then I suppose Lawrence can still use your machine for scouting if necessary?""We've no more petrol, unfortunately. What do you intend to do, then?""First of all secure our position here as soon as Fenton comes up. We'll make it impossible for the enemy to get round that bend yonder. Then we'll follow up the runaways and shepherd them out of the valley.""There's such a lot of them, and you've so few!""But they can't extend on this narrow track, and my few will be a match for them. They'll soon give it up as hopeless, and draw off to rejoin their huge army operating in Afghanistan. This week's delay has been our salvation. The Chief is moving up a large force to hold the passes south, and our flank is secure--a handsome feather in your cap, my lad. When I am sure that the valley is clear I shall return to the frontier, and of course you and your men must come too. You won't want to hold on here now that your poor uncle is gone?""No: we had already made up our minds to that.""I don't want to be inquisitive, but--er--have you--in short, what's your financial position, Bob?""I don't know. We had very little money, of course; everything in the house is burnt, including Uncle's cheque book, and all his papers. I don't know what he left, but I suppose there'll be no difficulty in proving our title to what there is?""None at all, I should think, though I'm not up in law. You've got some ore worked, of course; copper, isn't it? Pity it isn't gold.""There's better than copper, at all events. There's a heap of unworked ore in a cavity just beyond the compound, and Uncle said it's almost pure silver.""That's first-rate. I recommend you to set the men to get it up at once. We'll transport it to India somehow or other, and I'm sure I hope it'll make you millionaires.""Not much chance of that," said Bob with a smile. "But it will give us something to jog along with.""You must be ready to start almost at once. We marched light; I've food for only two or three days, and short commons at that. This corned beef is very good: any more of it?""I'll inquire of my store-keeper. I haven't seen him lately: he wasn't in the fighting line, and I dare say he's alive."When Captain Fenton with the remainder of the relieving force arrived, the men were set to work after a meal to render the track impassable. It was fortified at the bend with a series of entrenchments and wire entanglements, space being left only for horsemen to pass in single file. Before the enemy had recovered from the shock of their reverse, the position which had given them so much trouble when defended by a mere handful of almost untrained men was rendered ten times more formidable, and held by ten times as many trained troops. On the next day they felt forward with their artillery, but being met by a hail of shells from the mountain batteries, they soon withdrew their guns, and finally turned their backs on the scene of their wasted labours.Major Endicott followed them down the valley with the greater part of his force, Lawrence accompanying him on one of the troopers' horses. He took two guns in case they should turn at bay, but they showed the utmost alacrity in retreating, and for many miles only the stragglers of their rearguard were ever in sight. When the pursuers, however, were within a short distance of the scene of Lawrence's little engagement on the way back from the bridge, they noticed a number of Kalmucks marching over the hills to the left. They were no doubt following the path by which the Kalmucks on that occasion had managed to outflank Lawrence's party. There being none of the enemy in sight along the track, Major Endicott deemed it necessary to climb into the hills and pursue the fugitives until he had made sure that no concentration was being attempted.He left half his party with the guns on the track to continue their march, and began to climb. It was a breakneck path, narrow, tortuous, and at times so steep that the troopers had to dismount and lead their horses carefully. They made slow progress, and when the Major reached a more level stretch and, looking through his field-glass, no longer saw any sign of the enemy, he decided that it would be waste of time and energy to follow any farther.He had just given the order to retire when the figure of a man suddenly appeared from the entrance of a ravine a few hundred yards ahead, and walked towards the troop, holding his hands above his head. Thinking that he was one of the enemy intending to surrender, the Major waited."I know that man," said Lawrence after a few moments. "He's an old Uzbek fellow, who lives quite alone somewhere in these hills, no one knows where. He comes to the mine at long intervals to buy food and ammunition in exchange for the horns and skins ofOvis poli. I suppose he's on his way there now.""Can you understand his lingo?""No; my uncle was the only one of us who could talk to him."The man approached. He was a strange object, the wrinkled skin of his face yellow like old ivory, a ragged white beard hanging almost to his waist. When he came up, he made some sort of salutation to Lawrence, and another to the Major, then muttered the wordkuzur."We all know what that means," said the Major; but he paused, struck by an eager look in Lawrence's eyes as the old man made some pantomimic gestures and pointed in the direction whence he had come. Lawrence sprang from his horse."He wants me to go with him, Major," he said hurriedly. "I believe--I hardly dare think it----"He did not wait to complete the sentence, but followed the old man, who was already walking back. They came to a narrow ravine, which wound away into the hillside towards the river, always at a steep descent. Passing along it, they came after some minutes to a well-built akoi, around which several skins lay drying. The man led Lawrence to the entrance, and motioned to him to go in.The lad's heart was beating tumultuously. He paused a moment at the low opening, shrinking lest what he was about to see were a culminating spectacle of woe. In the middle of the tent there was a fire, the smoke of which passed out through a hole in the dome-shaped roof. Crushing down his agitation, he stepped in, his tread falling noiseless on a floor of thick skin rugs. Just beyond the fire lay the still form of a man. Holding his breath, Lawrence bent down, and looked upon the face of his uncle, asleep.Though his footsteps had been silent, the fact of his presence seemed to penetrate the consciousness of the sleeping man. He opened his eyes."Ah, Lawrence," he said, "what is this I hear about great guns?"Lawrence could not speak. He clasped his uncle's hand, and felt with a kind of surprise that it was warm as his own."Poor old boy! I expect you've had a bad time," Mr. Appleton went on. "But I couldn't let you know that I was all right.""I can hardly believe it. It seems too good to be true. We'd long ago given you up.""Long ago! Why, goodness alive! how long have I been here then?"And then Lawrence remembered that it was only a fortnight since that unlucky pursuit of Nurla Bai."It seems an age," he said. "But how splendid it is, Uncle! Bob and everybody will be simply wild with delight. You're not ill, are you?" he asked, noticing that his uncle remained flat on his back."I'm never ill, as you know! But old What's-his-name is not much of a surgeon, and I'm helpless with a broken thigh or something of the sort. That rascal Nurla Bai only gave me a flesh wound, which is healed now; but when I fell I came down too heavily on a rock beneath the surface, and smashed myself. The old man happened to be fishing close by----""I remember: we found a fishing net when we were searching for you.""I was carried within reach of him, and he drew me ashore to a cavern under the cliff. Of course I was senseless, and the old man seems to have been scared out of his wits by the aeroplane, or he would have shown up when you were looking for me. Anyway, he carried me to this place, which appears to be only a few feet above the bank, and here he has looked after me ever since. When I came to myself, I explained what had happened, and asked him to walk up to the mine to tell you that I was alive. He went off, but returned with a story about a whole army marching up, and fighting, and big guns, and what not. So I simply had to make the best of it, though I knew that you must think me dead. Now, what is this all about?""I'll tell you everything when I get you home, Uncle. Major Endicott is here----""Thinks me mad, you know.""With a lot of troopers, and they must sling up a horse-litter for you. We've got Captain Coats at the mine--an army surgeon, you know; he'll see what's really the matter with you.""Any other strangers? Billeting is rather expensive. But I'm talking nonsense. Get me out of this as soon as you like. It's a very comfortable hut, but not like home, and I long to see old Chunda Beg's serious phiz, and--yes, hear the Babu's chatter. And I want to know----""Yes, there are heaps of things to explain," Lawrence interrupted. "I'll run and tell the Major.""And I say, in case I forget it, I promised to give old Stick-in-the-mud a pound of tobacco when I got back. Remind me."Lawrence hurried out, fearing that weakness had made his uncle rather light-headed. On his acquainting the Major with his amazing discovery, and explaining that the akoi appeared to be very near the river, the order was at once given to return to the track. There they met the other half of the party, who reported that the bridge down stream had collapsed under the hurried flight of the enemy. Their rearguard had evidently elected to try the difficult mountain track rather than risk being caught.Lawrence went down the track with the Major and two troopers, and were soon met by the old Uzbek, whose name no one knew. He conducted them along a narrow parting in the rocks till they reached his akoi. With his aid a litter of skins was rigged up, and on this Mr. Appleton was carried down to the track. There the litter was slung between two horses, and the rest of the journey to the mine was accomplished slowly indeed, but in comfort.On the way Major Endicott, at Mr. Appleton's entreaty, gave him a succinct account of what had happened during his absence."I wish I'd been there, egad!" he ejaculated, as he heard of his nephews' gallant defence. "But no: they've had a chance to show what stuff they're made of; my assistance would have ruined it. D'you still think I'm mad, Endicott?""Well--perhaps a trifle light-headed--owing to your illness, you know," answered the Major in some confusion."That's not what I meant," said Mr. Appleton with twinkling eyes. "You thought me chronically mad, fit for Bedlam. Oh! you needn't apologize: all you frontier fellows did. 'Poor old Harry,' you know. 'Only a madman would think of mining in the Hindu Kush!' But where would you have been without the mine, eh? Where would you have been, the whole dashed lot of you, without the mine and my young nephews? I tell you what, sir, my mine has been the saving of India, and don't you forget it.""We shan't do that, Appleton, I assure you," said the Major, willing to humour him."Yes; my mine, and one other thing: Bob's aeroplane. What you want, my dear sir, to keep India safe, is a corps of air patrols, with Bob as boss and Lawrence as second in command. We've got the finest navy in the world: for its size we've got the finest army; and we ought to wake up and get the finest air fleet, and the finest corps of airmen that can be trained. That's my opinion."There is no need to describe the scenes of wild excitement and jubilation at the mine when Mr. Appleton was carried among his people. The surgeon's report after examination of the fractured limb was a surprise to everybody. He said that the old Uzbek, by skill or good luck, had done just what an experienced surgeon would have done in the absence of proper splints. The fracture was a simple one, the bone was already joining up, and there would be no risk in conveying Mr. Appleton in the horse-litter by easy stages to India.Preparations for departure were hurried on. With the aid of the troopers, the Pathans put up in a day a temporary shed for the accommodation of the Englishmen. Then they set about hoisting the silver ore from its cavity in the bank of the river to the compound above. The transportation of twenty tons of ore over rough country without suitable vehicles was a matter that gave everybody much concern. It was ultimately decided that as much as possible should be carried by the men and animals, the remainder being left, to be fetched subsequently by a host of carriers whom Fyz Ali undertook to enlist. Every man of the garrison was delighted with the promise of treble pay for the fortnight of Mr. Appleton's absence, and Major Endicott did not despair of extracting a grant from Government in recognition of their services to the Empire.On the night before the southward march was to be begun, the Englishmen were provided by Shan Tai with a supper on which he lavished all the resources of his art. Corned beef and other tinned comestibles appeared in various disguises, and Mr. Appleton, reclining on his chair, mildly expostulated with the Chinaman for deferring this triumphant exhibition of his skill until the eve of the abandonment of the mine. Healths were drunk in water and coffee, the only beverages available, and the store-sheds having luckily escaped injury, Mr. Appleton was able to offer his guests some excellent cigars.When all were contentedly smoking, Mr. Appleton said:"I want to take you men into my confidence, and ask your advice. As you know, I have decided to close down here. I had already decided to do so at the end of this summer: recent events have only anticipated it by a few weeks.""Congratulations," said Major Endicott. "I suppose you've made your pile.""A very modest pile. Sixty per cent. of that ore is pure silver, and it will fetch something like £50,000. That of course I shall invest.""Choose a good security," said the Major."No more hair-brained adventures, you mean! Really, Major, you must try to disabuse your mind of the notion that I am mad. Now, I am going to retire. Yesterday was my fifty-third birthday; I have knocked about enough; my tastes are simple: and I've enough to live on apart from the silver."You wonder, I dare say, why I brought my nephews out here only a few months before the date I had fixed on for giving up the mine. I'll tell you. I didn't know the boys, and wanted to study them at close quarters, and see for myself what they were good for. I am quite satisfied. The probation they have come through during the last few days would convince any one.""I should rather think so," said the Major emphatically."Well now, what do you advise? What shall I do with them?""Let 'em both join the service; I recommend that without hesitation," said the Major."Hear! hear!" Captain Fenton ejaculated."Would they have you back at Sandhurst, Bob?" asked his uncle."No need for that," exclaimed the Major. "The Chief will give him a commission in the Indian army straight away when I've had a talk with him.""Will that suit you, Bob?""I couldn't wish for anything more splendid," said Bob, flushing with pleasure."That's settled then. And you, Lawrence?""The same for him, of course," said the Major."It's uncommonly good of you," said Lawrence, "but--well, I'm not cut out for a soldier.""Rubbish, sir. I wish all my subalterns were like you.""What's your notion then?" asked Mr. Appleton."Well, Uncle, I was going to Oxford, you know, but I'm afraid I shall be too old for a scholarship next year, and--and it would cost too much without."Lawrence spoke awkwardly, colouring to the roots of his hair."You could manage on £400 a year, I suppose?" said Mr. Appleton, dryly."Much less, Uncle. I know a chap who did jolly well on £200, and saved.""What will you do when you come down? Take a clerkship at thirty shillings a week, or teach little ruffians good cricket and bad Latin on forty?""I thought of trying for the Indian Civil, Uncle. I should like it immensely after being out here.""Stiff exam, isn't it?""I can swat, sir.""I believe you can! Well, I'm going to settle my silver money on Bob and you." [Here there was what the reporters call a "sensation."] "It should bring in £1500 a year even in the safest security. You shall have £400 each until you're twenty-five; after that you'll share the whole lot equally between you. Think I'm mad, Major?""I wish you'd bite an old uncle of mine," said the Major with a laugh. "I congratulate you young fellows; you deserve it all."The boys were overwhelmed with their good luck, and their uncle's generosity. They stammered out their thanks; then, desiring to talk things over quietly between themselves, they got up and went out.They strolled up and down the compound, looking with the mind's eye into the vista opening so brightly before them, discussing plans with youthful eagerness and optimism, voting their uncle a "trump," a "brick," a "ripping old boy," and employing the hundred and one meaningless phrases with which Englishmen are wont to dissemble their feelings. It is only the bare truth to say that their deepest satisfaction and thankfulness sprang from reunion with their uncle.Presently Bob noticed, in the gloom, Ditta Lal pacing slowly along by the cliff wall."Hallo, Babu!" he called. "Come here. I want to speak to you."The Bengali drew near, and as he came within the candlelight beaming through the open doorway of the shed, they noticed that he wore a very dejected look."I want to thank you," continued Bob. "Chunda Beg told me that while the fight was going on you were heaping up that rampart yonder. It was well thought of; we're indebted to you."The Babu's face lit up for a moment as he bowed his acknowledgments; but it instantly clouded over again."You don't look very happy," said Lawrence. "What's the matter?""It is a complicated case, sir," said the Babu mournfully. "Diagnosis easy, but as for remedies that touch the spot, alas!non est, or more correctly,non sunt.""What's wrong? Out with it, man," said Bob."Imprimis and in first place, sir, I droop in shade of impending calamity--regular sword of Damocles. I learn from esteemed avuncular relative, whose return to wonted haunts fills bitter cup of rejoicing to overflowing and slops, that he abandons commercial avocation, rests on his oars and laurels, and subsides into lassitude of adipose retirement. Every man to his gout, sir; but what is one man's alimentary nourishment is another man's happy dispatch. In short, young sirs, where do I come in?""Well, I'll tell you a secret," said Bob. "In recognition of your valuable services, and your willingness to help in all sorts of ways out of your own line, my uncle is going to make you a present of £50 when you leave his employment.""Jolly good tip, sir," said the Babu, brightening. "To use vulgar tongue, Burra Sahib is ripping old josser, and no mistakes. But for one harrowing reflection, carking care, sir, and fly in ointment, I should be restored to normal hilarity and cock-a-hoopness.""Well?""You observe, sir, that while honourable superior persons are engaged in temperate carousal and fumigation, there is absence of mafficking and horseplays among small fry; no beer and skittles, sir. That lies like leaden hundred-weight upon my bounding bosom. I attribute it to vacuous cavity in my brain-pan, or possibly erratic convulsions of grey matter. I spoke of organising tamasha, you remember--regular orgy of intellectual fireworks and monkey tricks, the set piece and tour de force of which was to be ode, elegy, or comic song penned by humble and obsequious servant. Would you believe it! Though I have scorned delights and lived laborious days, crowned my noble brow with sopped tea-cloth, imbibed oceans of coffee, black as your hat, and performed other rites enjoined by custom and recollections of stewing for exams--in spite of stupendous and praiseworthy efforts, that monument of literary agility is yet only shapeless block, sir: in short, I haven't done it.""That's a pity," said Lawrence, repressing a smile. "Inspiration ran short, eh?""No, sir, inspiration flows unchecked, a mild pellucid stream. Failure is due to intractable and churlish disposition of English lingo. I write a magnificent and lovely line, to wit--"The solar luminary winked his bloodshot orb--and then beat coverts for a rhyme: cui bono and what's the use? How true it is that fine words butter no parsnips! My note-book is chock full of similar felicitous lines, left in single blessedness and mere oblivion for want of an accommodating partner, or, as I may say, eligible parti.""Why not try blank verse, then?" said Bob."Blank verse is like blank cartridge, sir, suitable for reviews and sham-fights--that is to say, for long-winded epics and rigmaroles about nothing in particular; but not for battle pieces, in which you need clink-clank and rum-ti-tum to achieve truly martial effects.""I should like to see what you've done, though," said Lawrence."Well begun is half done, proverb runs; fallacious and tommy rot, sir. I began well; I will exhibit, commending to you beautiful aphorism of some precious and defunct poet now forgotten, namely, 'We may our ends by our beginnings know.'"He drew a roll of paper from his pocket, and moving towards the lighted doorway, spread it before their eyes. This is what they read--ODEin celebration of gorgeous defence of gorgeby two young English sirs,who with handful of rude mechanicals,dauntless breastsand flying machine, 100 h.p.,withstood the mights of twenty thousand Mongols.Written at request of one of aforesaid sirs,Mr. ROBERT APPLETON, Esquire, etc.,byDITTA LAL,B.A. Calcutta University.Here the page ended. Lawrence turned over: the back was blank."Where's the rest?" he asked."There's the rub, sir. The rest is dispersed through many pages of my note-book, high and dry, pearls of poesy, gems of purest ray serene, waiting leisure and a rhyming dictionary to thread them into perfect and resplendent ornament.""Well, finish it when you have time. You can send it to us, you know.""Registered, sir. I will do so without failings, and earn the meed of melodious tear or two, if not penny a line."Rolling up the paper, he returned to his own quarters, followed by eyes mirthful but compassionate.The campaign in Afghanistan lasted for several months after the check given to the flanking force in the valley. The Mongols having obtained a firm grip of the country around Kabul, it was difficult to dislodge them, though they never succeeded in forcing the passes into India. As the struggle developed, and the British Indian army took the offensive, the Afghans, who had by this time found the Mongols unpleasant guests, and begun to doubt their value as allies, quarrelled with the invaders, and either withdrew into their remotest and least accessible hills, or took sides actively against them. This was the beginning of the end. The horses which, if the early raids had been successful, would have proved a tremendous asset to the enemy, were in a prolonged check in Afghanistan a serious handicap. It became impossible to feed them. The Mongol host lost its mobility, and found itself pent up in a mountainous region where supplies even for the men failed.The story of the great retreat cannot be told in these pages. When once the retrograde movement began, every armed man in Afghanistan and Northern Persia hasted like a sleuth-hound in pursuit. Only a fraction of the half-million invaders returned to Tashkend and beyond.A year or two afterwards, when the invasion was passing into the oblivion which soon swallows up even the greatest events of the hurrying modern world, two of the actors in this little drama had their memories recalled to it by a trifling street scene. Colonel Sir Herbert Endicott and Lieutenant Robert Appleton were walking through the bazaar at Lahore when they met an old fakir striding along. They were struck by his vacant gaze, and the incessant muttering of his lips."You heard what he said, Bob?" said the Colonel, as the tall, lean, half-naked figure swung by."Yes," replied Bob, who was becoming an expert in the Border dialects. "'I am a sharpener of swords,' wasn't it?"And his thoughts flew back to that first journey through the hills."The poor wretch is clearly mad," said the Colonel. "I fear the sword he sharpened has wounded his own hand. Let's hope it will always be so with rebels and malcontents. There's this good come out of it, at any rate: we have learnt to sharpen our own swords, and not to grudge the expense.... When do you expect your new aeroplane?""Pretty soon. It's a ripper, but I shan't like it so well as the old one. Old friends are best.""Does that hold with aeroplanes as with men, I wonder? Anyhow, I wish you luck with it. Shall we turn?"THE ENDRichard Clay & Sons, Limited London and Bungay.*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOKTHE AIR PATROL***
CHAPTER THE TWENTY-NINTH
REUNION
Major Endicott left his men at the bend, and galloped back to the bridge. Dismounting there, he pressed Lawrence's hand warmly.
"Well played, sir!" he said. "Where's your brother?"
"In the compound, Major. He's all right, I think: that is, he wasn't hit this morning; but he was wounded yesterday, and is rather off colour."
"The doctor will be up in a few minutes. He was just behind me; and Fenton will arrive with the rest of the men and the guns in about an hour. I pushed on ahead when I heard the bombardment."
"Just in time! We couldn't have held out another five minutes."
"I'm glad we managed it," said the Major simply.
"Come and see Bob. They've burnt our house, and we can't make you very comfortable."
"My dear boy, comfort is ruin to a soldier. Ah! here's Coats; he'd better have a look at your brother at once."
The doctor rode up with another score of troopers. These the Major ordered to remain on guard at the bridge, in case the Kalmucks who were still scattered here and there on the track and the hillside should show any disposition to rally. Then the two officers crossed with Lawrence into the compound. Bob had been carried back to his chair by Shan Tai and the khansaman. The doctor made a brief examination of his wounds, got out some lint and lotion, and as he bandaged him declared that he would be quite sound in a few days. Then he went off to attend to the other wounded--almost every man of the little company. Ten had been killed outright; two were so severely injured that recovery was hopeless; the rest would be well sooner or later. Among these were Fyz Ali and Gur Buksh, though the Sikh's arm had to be amputated.
"I was never so glad of anything as I am to hand things over to you, Major," said Bob.
Major Endicott was seated on an upturned box beside his chair, with a biscuit in one hand and a hunk of corned beef in the other.
"Well, you know, I feel rather mean," he said munching. "Capital stuff, this! ... All the credit is yours and Lawrence's, and I shan't fail to say so. It's a thousand pities you are not both in the service. By the way, I saw as I came up that your aeroplane had come to grief, and it was a great relief to see Lawrence safe and sound."
"It wasn't ours," replied Bob, who then related in brief the events of the previous day.
"That's amazing. Then I suppose Lawrence can still use your machine for scouting if necessary?"
"We've no more petrol, unfortunately. What do you intend to do, then?"
"First of all secure our position here as soon as Fenton comes up. We'll make it impossible for the enemy to get round that bend yonder. Then we'll follow up the runaways and shepherd them out of the valley."
"There's such a lot of them, and you've so few!"
"But they can't extend on this narrow track, and my few will be a match for them. They'll soon give it up as hopeless, and draw off to rejoin their huge army operating in Afghanistan. This week's delay has been our salvation. The Chief is moving up a large force to hold the passes south, and our flank is secure--a handsome feather in your cap, my lad. When I am sure that the valley is clear I shall return to the frontier, and of course you and your men must come too. You won't want to hold on here now that your poor uncle is gone?"
"No: we had already made up our minds to that."
"I don't want to be inquisitive, but--er--have you--in short, what's your financial position, Bob?"
"I don't know. We had very little money, of course; everything in the house is burnt, including Uncle's cheque book, and all his papers. I don't know what he left, but I suppose there'll be no difficulty in proving our title to what there is?"
"None at all, I should think, though I'm not up in law. You've got some ore worked, of course; copper, isn't it? Pity it isn't gold."
"There's better than copper, at all events. There's a heap of unworked ore in a cavity just beyond the compound, and Uncle said it's almost pure silver."
"That's first-rate. I recommend you to set the men to get it up at once. We'll transport it to India somehow or other, and I'm sure I hope it'll make you millionaires."
"Not much chance of that," said Bob with a smile. "But it will give us something to jog along with."
"You must be ready to start almost at once. We marched light; I've food for only two or three days, and short commons at that. This corned beef is very good: any more of it?"
"I'll inquire of my store-keeper. I haven't seen him lately: he wasn't in the fighting line, and I dare say he's alive."
When Captain Fenton with the remainder of the relieving force arrived, the men were set to work after a meal to render the track impassable. It was fortified at the bend with a series of entrenchments and wire entanglements, space being left only for horsemen to pass in single file. Before the enemy had recovered from the shock of their reverse, the position which had given them so much trouble when defended by a mere handful of almost untrained men was rendered ten times more formidable, and held by ten times as many trained troops. On the next day they felt forward with their artillery, but being met by a hail of shells from the mountain batteries, they soon withdrew their guns, and finally turned their backs on the scene of their wasted labours.
Major Endicott followed them down the valley with the greater part of his force, Lawrence accompanying him on one of the troopers' horses. He took two guns in case they should turn at bay, but they showed the utmost alacrity in retreating, and for many miles only the stragglers of their rearguard were ever in sight. When the pursuers, however, were within a short distance of the scene of Lawrence's little engagement on the way back from the bridge, they noticed a number of Kalmucks marching over the hills to the left. They were no doubt following the path by which the Kalmucks on that occasion had managed to outflank Lawrence's party. There being none of the enemy in sight along the track, Major Endicott deemed it necessary to climb into the hills and pursue the fugitives until he had made sure that no concentration was being attempted.
He left half his party with the guns on the track to continue their march, and began to climb. It was a breakneck path, narrow, tortuous, and at times so steep that the troopers had to dismount and lead their horses carefully. They made slow progress, and when the Major reached a more level stretch and, looking through his field-glass, no longer saw any sign of the enemy, he decided that it would be waste of time and energy to follow any farther.
He had just given the order to retire when the figure of a man suddenly appeared from the entrance of a ravine a few hundred yards ahead, and walked towards the troop, holding his hands above his head. Thinking that he was one of the enemy intending to surrender, the Major waited.
"I know that man," said Lawrence after a few moments. "He's an old Uzbek fellow, who lives quite alone somewhere in these hills, no one knows where. He comes to the mine at long intervals to buy food and ammunition in exchange for the horns and skins ofOvis poli. I suppose he's on his way there now."
"Can you understand his lingo?"
"No; my uncle was the only one of us who could talk to him."
The man approached. He was a strange object, the wrinkled skin of his face yellow like old ivory, a ragged white beard hanging almost to his waist. When he came up, he made some sort of salutation to Lawrence, and another to the Major, then muttered the wordkuzur.
"We all know what that means," said the Major; but he paused, struck by an eager look in Lawrence's eyes as the old man made some pantomimic gestures and pointed in the direction whence he had come. Lawrence sprang from his horse.
"He wants me to go with him, Major," he said hurriedly. "I believe--I hardly dare think it----"
He did not wait to complete the sentence, but followed the old man, who was already walking back. They came to a narrow ravine, which wound away into the hillside towards the river, always at a steep descent. Passing along it, they came after some minutes to a well-built akoi, around which several skins lay drying. The man led Lawrence to the entrance, and motioned to him to go in.
The lad's heart was beating tumultuously. He paused a moment at the low opening, shrinking lest what he was about to see were a culminating spectacle of woe. In the middle of the tent there was a fire, the smoke of which passed out through a hole in the dome-shaped roof. Crushing down his agitation, he stepped in, his tread falling noiseless on a floor of thick skin rugs. Just beyond the fire lay the still form of a man. Holding his breath, Lawrence bent down, and looked upon the face of his uncle, asleep.
Though his footsteps had been silent, the fact of his presence seemed to penetrate the consciousness of the sleeping man. He opened his eyes.
"Ah, Lawrence," he said, "what is this I hear about great guns?"
Lawrence could not speak. He clasped his uncle's hand, and felt with a kind of surprise that it was warm as his own.
"Poor old boy! I expect you've had a bad time," Mr. Appleton went on. "But I couldn't let you know that I was all right."
"I can hardly believe it. It seems too good to be true. We'd long ago given you up."
"Long ago! Why, goodness alive! how long have I been here then?"
And then Lawrence remembered that it was only a fortnight since that unlucky pursuit of Nurla Bai.
"It seems an age," he said. "But how splendid it is, Uncle! Bob and everybody will be simply wild with delight. You're not ill, are you?" he asked, noticing that his uncle remained flat on his back.
"I'm never ill, as you know! But old What's-his-name is not much of a surgeon, and I'm helpless with a broken thigh or something of the sort. That rascal Nurla Bai only gave me a flesh wound, which is healed now; but when I fell I came down too heavily on a rock beneath the surface, and smashed myself. The old man happened to be fishing close by----"
"I remember: we found a fishing net when we were searching for you."
"I was carried within reach of him, and he drew me ashore to a cavern under the cliff. Of course I was senseless, and the old man seems to have been scared out of his wits by the aeroplane, or he would have shown up when you were looking for me. Anyway, he carried me to this place, which appears to be only a few feet above the bank, and here he has looked after me ever since. When I came to myself, I explained what had happened, and asked him to walk up to the mine to tell you that I was alive. He went off, but returned with a story about a whole army marching up, and fighting, and big guns, and what not. So I simply had to make the best of it, though I knew that you must think me dead. Now, what is this all about?"
"I'll tell you everything when I get you home, Uncle. Major Endicott is here----"
"Thinks me mad, you know."
"With a lot of troopers, and they must sling up a horse-litter for you. We've got Captain Coats at the mine--an army surgeon, you know; he'll see what's really the matter with you."
"Any other strangers? Billeting is rather expensive. But I'm talking nonsense. Get me out of this as soon as you like. It's a very comfortable hut, but not like home, and I long to see old Chunda Beg's serious phiz, and--yes, hear the Babu's chatter. And I want to know----"
"Yes, there are heaps of things to explain," Lawrence interrupted. "I'll run and tell the Major."
"And I say, in case I forget it, I promised to give old Stick-in-the-mud a pound of tobacco when I got back. Remind me."
Lawrence hurried out, fearing that weakness had made his uncle rather light-headed. On his acquainting the Major with his amazing discovery, and explaining that the akoi appeared to be very near the river, the order was at once given to return to the track. There they met the other half of the party, who reported that the bridge down stream had collapsed under the hurried flight of the enemy. Their rearguard had evidently elected to try the difficult mountain track rather than risk being caught.
Lawrence went down the track with the Major and two troopers, and were soon met by the old Uzbek, whose name no one knew. He conducted them along a narrow parting in the rocks till they reached his akoi. With his aid a litter of skins was rigged up, and on this Mr. Appleton was carried down to the track. There the litter was slung between two horses, and the rest of the journey to the mine was accomplished slowly indeed, but in comfort.
On the way Major Endicott, at Mr. Appleton's entreaty, gave him a succinct account of what had happened during his absence.
"I wish I'd been there, egad!" he ejaculated, as he heard of his nephews' gallant defence. "But no: they've had a chance to show what stuff they're made of; my assistance would have ruined it. D'you still think I'm mad, Endicott?"
"Well--perhaps a trifle light-headed--owing to your illness, you know," answered the Major in some confusion.
"That's not what I meant," said Mr. Appleton with twinkling eyes. "You thought me chronically mad, fit for Bedlam. Oh! you needn't apologize: all you frontier fellows did. 'Poor old Harry,' you know. 'Only a madman would think of mining in the Hindu Kush!' But where would you have been without the mine, eh? Where would you have been, the whole dashed lot of you, without the mine and my young nephews? I tell you what, sir, my mine has been the saving of India, and don't you forget it."
"We shan't do that, Appleton, I assure you," said the Major, willing to humour him.
"Yes; my mine, and one other thing: Bob's aeroplane. What you want, my dear sir, to keep India safe, is a corps of air patrols, with Bob as boss and Lawrence as second in command. We've got the finest navy in the world: for its size we've got the finest army; and we ought to wake up and get the finest air fleet, and the finest corps of airmen that can be trained. That's my opinion."
There is no need to describe the scenes of wild excitement and jubilation at the mine when Mr. Appleton was carried among his people. The surgeon's report after examination of the fractured limb was a surprise to everybody. He said that the old Uzbek, by skill or good luck, had done just what an experienced surgeon would have done in the absence of proper splints. The fracture was a simple one, the bone was already joining up, and there would be no risk in conveying Mr. Appleton in the horse-litter by easy stages to India.
Preparations for departure were hurried on. With the aid of the troopers, the Pathans put up in a day a temporary shed for the accommodation of the Englishmen. Then they set about hoisting the silver ore from its cavity in the bank of the river to the compound above. The transportation of twenty tons of ore over rough country without suitable vehicles was a matter that gave everybody much concern. It was ultimately decided that as much as possible should be carried by the men and animals, the remainder being left, to be fetched subsequently by a host of carriers whom Fyz Ali undertook to enlist. Every man of the garrison was delighted with the promise of treble pay for the fortnight of Mr. Appleton's absence, and Major Endicott did not despair of extracting a grant from Government in recognition of their services to the Empire.
On the night before the southward march was to be begun, the Englishmen were provided by Shan Tai with a supper on which he lavished all the resources of his art. Corned beef and other tinned comestibles appeared in various disguises, and Mr. Appleton, reclining on his chair, mildly expostulated with the Chinaman for deferring this triumphant exhibition of his skill until the eve of the abandonment of the mine. Healths were drunk in water and coffee, the only beverages available, and the store-sheds having luckily escaped injury, Mr. Appleton was able to offer his guests some excellent cigars.
When all were contentedly smoking, Mr. Appleton said:
"I want to take you men into my confidence, and ask your advice. As you know, I have decided to close down here. I had already decided to do so at the end of this summer: recent events have only anticipated it by a few weeks."
"Congratulations," said Major Endicott. "I suppose you've made your pile."
"A very modest pile. Sixty per cent. of that ore is pure silver, and it will fetch something like £50,000. That of course I shall invest."
"Choose a good security," said the Major.
"No more hair-brained adventures, you mean! Really, Major, you must try to disabuse your mind of the notion that I am mad. Now, I am going to retire. Yesterday was my fifty-third birthday; I have knocked about enough; my tastes are simple: and I've enough to live on apart from the silver.
"You wonder, I dare say, why I brought my nephews out here only a few months before the date I had fixed on for giving up the mine. I'll tell you. I didn't know the boys, and wanted to study them at close quarters, and see for myself what they were good for. I am quite satisfied. The probation they have come through during the last few days would convince any one."
"I should rather think so," said the Major emphatically.
"Well now, what do you advise? What shall I do with them?"
"Let 'em both join the service; I recommend that without hesitation," said the Major.
"Hear! hear!" Captain Fenton ejaculated.
"Would they have you back at Sandhurst, Bob?" asked his uncle.
"No need for that," exclaimed the Major. "The Chief will give him a commission in the Indian army straight away when I've had a talk with him."
"Will that suit you, Bob?"
"I couldn't wish for anything more splendid," said Bob, flushing with pleasure.
"That's settled then. And you, Lawrence?"
"The same for him, of course," said the Major.
"It's uncommonly good of you," said Lawrence, "but--well, I'm not cut out for a soldier."
"Rubbish, sir. I wish all my subalterns were like you."
"What's your notion then?" asked Mr. Appleton.
"Well, Uncle, I was going to Oxford, you know, but I'm afraid I shall be too old for a scholarship next year, and--and it would cost too much without."
Lawrence spoke awkwardly, colouring to the roots of his hair.
"You could manage on £400 a year, I suppose?" said Mr. Appleton, dryly.
"Much less, Uncle. I know a chap who did jolly well on £200, and saved."
"What will you do when you come down? Take a clerkship at thirty shillings a week, or teach little ruffians good cricket and bad Latin on forty?"
"I thought of trying for the Indian Civil, Uncle. I should like it immensely after being out here."
"Stiff exam, isn't it?"
"I can swat, sir."
"I believe you can! Well, I'm going to settle my silver money on Bob and you." [Here there was what the reporters call a "sensation."] "It should bring in £1500 a year even in the safest security. You shall have £400 each until you're twenty-five; after that you'll share the whole lot equally between you. Think I'm mad, Major?"
"I wish you'd bite an old uncle of mine," said the Major with a laugh. "I congratulate you young fellows; you deserve it all."
The boys were overwhelmed with their good luck, and their uncle's generosity. They stammered out their thanks; then, desiring to talk things over quietly between themselves, they got up and went out.
They strolled up and down the compound, looking with the mind's eye into the vista opening so brightly before them, discussing plans with youthful eagerness and optimism, voting their uncle a "trump," a "brick," a "ripping old boy," and employing the hundred and one meaningless phrases with which Englishmen are wont to dissemble their feelings. It is only the bare truth to say that their deepest satisfaction and thankfulness sprang from reunion with their uncle.
Presently Bob noticed, in the gloom, Ditta Lal pacing slowly along by the cliff wall.
"Hallo, Babu!" he called. "Come here. I want to speak to you."
The Bengali drew near, and as he came within the candlelight beaming through the open doorway of the shed, they noticed that he wore a very dejected look.
"I want to thank you," continued Bob. "Chunda Beg told me that while the fight was going on you were heaping up that rampart yonder. It was well thought of; we're indebted to you."
The Babu's face lit up for a moment as he bowed his acknowledgments; but it instantly clouded over again.
"You don't look very happy," said Lawrence. "What's the matter?"
"It is a complicated case, sir," said the Babu mournfully. "Diagnosis easy, but as for remedies that touch the spot, alas!non est, or more correctly,non sunt."
"What's wrong? Out with it, man," said Bob.
"Imprimis and in first place, sir, I droop in shade of impending calamity--regular sword of Damocles. I learn from esteemed avuncular relative, whose return to wonted haunts fills bitter cup of rejoicing to overflowing and slops, that he abandons commercial avocation, rests on his oars and laurels, and subsides into lassitude of adipose retirement. Every man to his gout, sir; but what is one man's alimentary nourishment is another man's happy dispatch. In short, young sirs, where do I come in?"
"Well, I'll tell you a secret," said Bob. "In recognition of your valuable services, and your willingness to help in all sorts of ways out of your own line, my uncle is going to make you a present of £50 when you leave his employment."
"Jolly good tip, sir," said the Babu, brightening. "To use vulgar tongue, Burra Sahib is ripping old josser, and no mistakes. But for one harrowing reflection, carking care, sir, and fly in ointment, I should be restored to normal hilarity and cock-a-hoopness."
"Well?"
"You observe, sir, that while honourable superior persons are engaged in temperate carousal and fumigation, there is absence of mafficking and horseplays among small fry; no beer and skittles, sir. That lies like leaden hundred-weight upon my bounding bosom. I attribute it to vacuous cavity in my brain-pan, or possibly erratic convulsions of grey matter. I spoke of organising tamasha, you remember--regular orgy of intellectual fireworks and monkey tricks, the set piece and tour de force of which was to be ode, elegy, or comic song penned by humble and obsequious servant. Would you believe it! Though I have scorned delights and lived laborious days, crowned my noble brow with sopped tea-cloth, imbibed oceans of coffee, black as your hat, and performed other rites enjoined by custom and recollections of stewing for exams--in spite of stupendous and praiseworthy efforts, that monument of literary agility is yet only shapeless block, sir: in short, I haven't done it."
"That's a pity," said Lawrence, repressing a smile. "Inspiration ran short, eh?"
"No, sir, inspiration flows unchecked, a mild pellucid stream. Failure is due to intractable and churlish disposition of English lingo. I write a magnificent and lovely line, to wit--
"The solar luminary winked his bloodshot orb--
"The solar luminary winked his bloodshot orb--
"The solar luminary winked his bloodshot orb--
and then beat coverts for a rhyme: cui bono and what's the use? How true it is that fine words butter no parsnips! My note-book is chock full of similar felicitous lines, left in single blessedness and mere oblivion for want of an accommodating partner, or, as I may say, eligible parti."
"Why not try blank verse, then?" said Bob.
"Blank verse is like blank cartridge, sir, suitable for reviews and sham-fights--that is to say, for long-winded epics and rigmaroles about nothing in particular; but not for battle pieces, in which you need clink-clank and rum-ti-tum to achieve truly martial effects."
"I should like to see what you've done, though," said Lawrence.
"Well begun is half done, proverb runs; fallacious and tommy rot, sir. I began well; I will exhibit, commending to you beautiful aphorism of some precious and defunct poet now forgotten, namely, 'We may our ends by our beginnings know.'"
He drew a roll of paper from his pocket, and moving towards the lighted doorway, spread it before their eyes. This is what they read--
ODE
in celebration of gorgeous defence of gorgeby two young English sirs,who with handful of rude mechanicals,dauntless breastsand flying machine, 100 h.p.,withstood the mights of twenty thousand Mongols.Written at request of one of aforesaid sirs,Mr. ROBERT APPLETON, Esquire, etc.,byDITTA LAL,B.A. Calcutta University.
Here the page ended. Lawrence turned over: the back was blank.
"Where's the rest?" he asked.
"There's the rub, sir. The rest is dispersed through many pages of my note-book, high and dry, pearls of poesy, gems of purest ray serene, waiting leisure and a rhyming dictionary to thread them into perfect and resplendent ornament."
"Well, finish it when you have time. You can send it to us, you know."
"Registered, sir. I will do so without failings, and earn the meed of melodious tear or two, if not penny a line."
Rolling up the paper, he returned to his own quarters, followed by eyes mirthful but compassionate.
The campaign in Afghanistan lasted for several months after the check given to the flanking force in the valley. The Mongols having obtained a firm grip of the country around Kabul, it was difficult to dislodge them, though they never succeeded in forcing the passes into India. As the struggle developed, and the British Indian army took the offensive, the Afghans, who had by this time found the Mongols unpleasant guests, and begun to doubt their value as allies, quarrelled with the invaders, and either withdrew into their remotest and least accessible hills, or took sides actively against them. This was the beginning of the end. The horses which, if the early raids had been successful, would have proved a tremendous asset to the enemy, were in a prolonged check in Afghanistan a serious handicap. It became impossible to feed them. The Mongol host lost its mobility, and found itself pent up in a mountainous region where supplies even for the men failed.
The story of the great retreat cannot be told in these pages. When once the retrograde movement began, every armed man in Afghanistan and Northern Persia hasted like a sleuth-hound in pursuit. Only a fraction of the half-million invaders returned to Tashkend and beyond.
A year or two afterwards, when the invasion was passing into the oblivion which soon swallows up even the greatest events of the hurrying modern world, two of the actors in this little drama had their memories recalled to it by a trifling street scene. Colonel Sir Herbert Endicott and Lieutenant Robert Appleton were walking through the bazaar at Lahore when they met an old fakir striding along. They were struck by his vacant gaze, and the incessant muttering of his lips.
"You heard what he said, Bob?" said the Colonel, as the tall, lean, half-naked figure swung by.
"Yes," replied Bob, who was becoming an expert in the Border dialects. "'I am a sharpener of swords,' wasn't it?"
And his thoughts flew back to that first journey through the hills.
"The poor wretch is clearly mad," said the Colonel. "I fear the sword he sharpened has wounded his own hand. Let's hope it will always be so with rebels and malcontents. There's this good come out of it, at any rate: we have learnt to sharpen our own swords, and not to grudge the expense.... When do you expect your new aeroplane?"
"Pretty soon. It's a ripper, but I shan't like it so well as the old one. Old friends are best."
"Does that hold with aeroplanes as with men, I wonder? Anyhow, I wish you luck with it. Shall we turn?"
THE END
Richard Clay & Sons, Limited London and Bungay.
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