CHAPTER THE TENTHA FATEFUL DISCOVERYIt was an oddly assorted conclave that met in Mr. Appleton's dining-room a little later. Bob had had a hot bath and a large bowl of coffee, which, Chunda Beg--not partial to stimulants--assured him, would do him more good than brandy. He sat now muffled in his dressing-gown in an armchair before the stove, his legs and feet swathed in blankets. On one side stood the tall dignified old Sikh Gur Buksh, straight as a dart, his face grave, his hands clasped upon the hilt of his sword, whose point was on the floor. Between Bob and the havildar sat Ditta Lal, who had requested permission to seat himself, on the ground that he was one of those "who fardels bear.""In other words, sir," he said, "I turn scale at eighteen stone, and too much standing on pins is one of many causes of varicosity according to little homoeopathic vade-mecum."Bob was apt to be impulsive, but he had determined to give no information on his side until he had learnt how things had gone at the mine during the day. He asked Gur Buksh to report."I have done what the huzur said, sahib," declared the havildar in deep measured tones. "No work has been done to-day. We have kept the Pathans and the Kalmucks apart. They have reviled each other; blood has been hot, and I feared they would use their guns upon each other; but some of my men have patrolled the ground between them, and kept the peace.""You have done well," said Bob; "though if the men had been kept at work they could not have got into mischief."Gur Buksh pointed out, however, that it would not have been safe to allow the miners to cross the bridge. They would certainly have come into collision, and with guns, picks and hammers in their possession they could have overwhelmed the little garrison if it had come to fighting at close quarters."Very well," said Bob. "Now I have grave news for you. We overtook Nurla Bai and his man nearly fifty miles down the river. As we flew over them one of them fired and hit the Burra Sahib, who fell into the stream.""Hai! hai!" ejaculated the Babu. Gur Buksh was mute."We wheeled round as soon as we could, to look for the Burra Sahib. We could not find him. Either he was mortally wounded and sank to the bottom" (the Babu groaned), "or he was washed down and fell into the hands of the enemy, for the two ruffians had joined a band of Kalmucks who had come up from an encampment we had previously seen on the plateau some miles farther on. We came down and landed the aeroplane just above the bridge, and walked a long way down the track. We saw no sign of the Burra Sahib, and were chased by the Kalmucks on horseback, and only escaped because the Pathans had arrived in our absence, and opened fire from an ambush behind the rocks. They could not cross, because the bridge was broken by Nurla Bai and Tchigin galloping across it; my brother and I had to swing ourselves over the river by the single rope that was left uninjured.""Hai! Wonders will never cease!" murmured the Babu.Bob related the incidents of the afternoon, and explained the impossibility of removing the aeroplane until nightfall, and the arrangements he had made with Lawrence."We cannot help believing that the Kalmucks intend to attack the mine," he said in conclusion. "To-morrow morning I shall fly back, and send all the Pathans to join their mates. If I should find that the enemy have gone, we shall renew the search for the Burra Sahib. If they are a band we can tackle, we shall drive them off, or at any rate hold our ground there. But if, as I fear, they are but an advanced guard of the larger force we saw at the encampment, we can do nothing but return here and defend ourselves."There was silence. Ditta Lal had for some time ceased to make any sound; if Bob had not been so much preoccupied with his thoughts he would have noticed that the Babu was looking exceedingly uneasy. Gur Buksh stood like a statue."Now what are we to do, havildar?" said Bob. "Can we defend the mine?""We can but try, sahib.""As soon as it is light I want you to do all you can to strengthen the position. The northern wall must be fortified. There are plenty of empty provision bags in your stores, I believe, Babu?"Ditta Lal started, and looked at his questioner vacantly."Pardon, sir, my mind was busy with great problems, and I did not catch what fell from your lips.""I asked if you had plenty of empty bags in your storehouse.""Heaps; a regular lot of them, sir.""You must fill them with earth, havildar, and pile them against the wall. Make an embrasure in the middle for the machine gun.""What, sir?" said the Babu, surprised."I forgot: you did not know about it. In the little chamber behind the house there is a machine gun, with plenty of ammunition. We will get it out in the morning.""It is good, sahib," said the havildar."You knew about it?" said Bob, catching a curious expression on the Sikh's countenance."I knew about it, sahib. I saw the parts unpacked.""And locked your knowledge in your silent bosom," said the Babu, with an aggrieved look. "That was cruelty to animals, sir. With knowledge of so ingenious a weapon of defence we should all have slept more securely in our beds.""All this must be done as quietly as possible," continued Bob, ignoring the Babu's indignant protest. "We must try not to let the Kalmucks on the other side know that anything out of the ordinary is going on.""That will not be easy, sahib," said the havildar."Perhaps not, but you must do the best you can. I said just now that I would send all the Pathans down the river, but you will want some of them to work. Will they be loyal?""The huzur is their father, sahib. They will fight for him and for you. To them the Kalmucks are sons of pigs.""How is Muhammad, by the way?""His wound is healing; he will be well to-morrow--well enough to fight the Kalmucks.""I will see him in the morning. I am rather troubled as to what to do with the Kalmuck miners. They will side with their countrymen if they come up in force, and every man extra will add to our difficulties.""The sahib should send them away," said Gur Buksh."But we can't send them down-stream until my brother comes back, and that's their natural way. They won't go without their arms, and Lawrence Sahib and the Pathans might be attacked then on both sides; and they would certainly refuse to go in the opposite direction, away from their homes.""Permit me to interpose, sir," said Ditta Lal, who had for some time taken no part in the discussion. "I have suggestion for cutting Gordian knot. Many years ago, sir, my uncle, member of celebrated Hunza Nagar expeditionary force, made proposal which, if taken at the flood, would have led to fortune. British force would have triumphed over dastardly foes, and many valuable lives would have been saved to honour and glory of king and country.""Cut it short, Babu," said Bob. "What is your proposal?""Perpend, sir. Our friend and comrade Gur Buksh will cross bridge--or better Shan Tai--gather Kalmucks about him, and offer to beguile tedium of inaction by great feast, Chinese delicacies, stews and all that, regular blow out. While he engages Kalmucks in this artless conversation, make mouths water galore, one of noble garrison steals behind their backs into huts, inserts dynamite and fuse into walls, and retires with careful slowness, as if nothing was up, and he were merely strolling for constitutional. Then in midst of jollification huts all blow up like one o'clock, and scoundrels wallow in their gore.""That was your uncle's suggestion, was it?" said Bob."That was it, sir, and my respected uncle was hurt in inmost soul when advice was contumeliously rejected. Such was his military ardour that he had made profound study of all books extant on art of war and duty of soldiers, and he assured me with tears welling out of dove-like eyes that nowhere did he find regulation forbidding adoption of artful dodge.""Well, you'd better follow his example--only weep quietly.""My word is this, sahib," said Gur Buksh. "Wait until Lawrence Sahib is back; then send the Kalmucks away. They will join their friends; who can resist Fate? we must fight them all. And I say too, sahib, send some of the Pathans this night to join Lawrence Sahib. They will go with great gladness of heart.""That's a good idea. They will get to him before I start in the morning. But how can we get them off without making the Kalmucks suspicious? Some one would have to cross the bridge to give them orders. The bridge can't be let down without a good deal of noise, and that would certainly bring them out to see what was going on."The havildar thought for a minute, then suggested that Bob in his company should pay a visit of inspection to each of the camps. Mr. Appleton had several times done this at night, and if Bob were to make his inspection as formal in appearance as possible, nothing would be so likely to lull their suspicions. To this proposal Bob agreed. He dressed quickly, and in a few minutes left the house, with the havildar marching behind.They visited the Kalmuck camp first, going from hut to hut, in which the men were engaged in various games. Some of them looked up in stolid silence as the sahib glanced round, uttered a word or two, and passed on. Others were sufficiently curious to ask what was happening down the river, and why the huzur had not returned. Bob fenced with their questions, and when he left them felt that he had only heightened their curiosity, even though he had given no sign that anything was amiss. Then, to keep up the pretence, he went to the stables, finally crossing to the Pathan camp, where he found a still more eager curiosity. Calling out the man who was next in authority to the wounded Muhammad, he told him quietly what he wished him to do, without informing him of the disappearance of Mr. Appleton. The man was delighted with the opportunity of leading a night march against the hated Kalmucks. A sudden and secret raid is the breath of life to a Pathan. He selected a dozen men to accompany him. Gur Buksh, without attracting attention, supplied them with arms, better than their own, from the mine armoury; and before nine o'clock they left their camp stealthily, making their way in single file up the hill path that skirted the Kalmuck quarters.Bob and the havildar returned to their own side of the gorge and waited anxiously to assure themselves that the movement was not detected by the Kalmucks. The place at which the Pathans must descend to join the track was something less than two hundred yards north of the Kalmuck camp, and if one of them chanced to set a stone rolling, or struck his rifle against the rock, the sound would almost certainly be heard below. But not a click disturbed the stillness; no sound was added to the rustle of the river; and after waiting at the end of the drawbridge for about half an hour, Bob concluded that the men had reached the track safely, and returned with the havildar to the house.There they remained for an hour discussing the measures which the havildar was to take next day. Ditta Lal had retired to his own quarters, to pass, it is to be feared, a very uneasy night: he was bold only when the odds were heavily on his side. Presently Fazl came to the house to report that he had cleaned the engine, replenished the tanks with petrol and lubricating oil, and examined all the gear. A thought struck Bob."I shall fly down-stream again as soon as it is light," he said. "Are you willing to come with me?""The sahib orders," said the man, smiling with pleasure."Then get Shan Tai to give you two or three baskets of food and take them to the ledge. Meet me there as soon as there's any light in the sky. Bring your kukuri."Fazl smiled again. No Gurkha goes abroad without his national weapon, half bill-hook, and half falchion. He departed, salaaming cheerfully."He'll be useful in looking after the machine if I'm otherwise engaged," thought Bob, as he went wearily to his room, to snatch a few hours' rest before he set off again. "Poor old Lawrie!" he said to himself. "I'm afraid he's desperately cold."In the hurry of departure he had forgotten to hand out the wadded coat which Lawrence, like himself, wore when flying. Whether the little party at the bridge were disturbed by the enemy or not, he feared that his brother must pass a very uncomfortable night.Up before daybreak, Bob, after a hurried breakfast, paid the promised visit to Muhammad, to whom, however, he told nothing. If the man was to be of any use in the fighting that might be in store, it was necessary that he should recover his strength, and such recovery would only be retarded by excitement. Then Bob supplied himself with plenty of cartridges, borrowed a red handkerchief from Chunda Beg, and made his way along the path to the aeroplane platform. Fazl was already there: everything was in order: and as soon as the grey light of dawn began to creep over the hill-tops, the two men got into their places, and with a hum and swish the aeroplane set forth on its flight down-stream.Bob's experience of the previous night was reversed. Then, the curtain of shade had rolled up from the valley, ever higher, until sky and earth were mingled in one blackness. Now, the dark crept gradually downward, every minute uncovering a few more feet of the barren hill-sides. But during the brief flight from the mine the depths of the valley were scarcely penetrated by the feeble rays of morning, and it was not until the aeroplane came to the neighbourhood of the bridge that the river and the track upon its bank were distinguishable. Bob knew not what he might have passed during that forty minutes. Once, when he judged that about two-thirds of the flight was completed, he thought he heard a shout from below, and guessed that the Pathans, marching down the track, had caught the sound of his propeller, and had called to let him know that all was well.The twilight had banished darkness from the bottom of the valley by the time he came in sight of the bridge. He looked anxiously down for his brother's party, and was on the point of shifting the elevator so as to drop a little nearer earth when he saw puffs of smoke just beyond the bend in the left bank, and immediately afterwards heard the crack of rifles. Evidently the enemy were still in position. Reversing his movement, so as to rise instead of falling, and avoid the fate that had overtaken his uncle, he glanced down at the rocks near the bridge head, and saw grouped there a number of figures among whom he thought he recognized Lawrence. At the same moment a vociferous cheer reached him through the throbbing hum of the engine, and the greeting relieved him of anxiety about his brother.Rising as quickly as possible, he held on his course, and in half a minute flew directly over the Kalmucks, and came in sight of the reach of the river beyond the bend. As he searched the banks, running the gauntlet of a fusillade, he was conscious of a feeling of dismay. For a full mile the river bank appeared to have been turned into a Kalmuck encampment. At irregular intervals above and below the winding track, the hill-side was dotted with tents and akois. Advantage seemed to have been taken of every square yard of level space to erect these portable shelters, which could be put up and taken down within a few minutes. It was clear that he had to reckon, not merely with the small party who had pursued him up-stream, but with a much larger number who had come up from the distant encampment during the previous afternoon and night. Horses were grouped wherever there was standing room for them. On the track and about the tents men were gathered, all gazing up into the sky, some taking shots at the aeroplane as it flew over them. It was flying swiftly, however, and with a vertical as well as a horizontal movement, so that even a practised sportsman, accustomed to shoot birds on the wing, could scarcely have hit his mark. Bob heard two or three bullets whistle past, but none struck the aeroplane or either of its occupants. Having seen so much, he determined to pursue his reconnaissance down the valley; it would be worth while to see if the camp on the plateau had been struck, for he would then be sure that the mine was indeed the objective of this force, and as he flew back be able, perhaps, to estimate its size. For the next few miles only a few straggling horsemen were visible, riding slowly up-stream. Then for a mile or two the track was bare, and he suspected that the men he had last seen were the rear of the enemy's force. Still flying on, he came at length to the place where the valley broadened, and finally to the plateau which had been the limit of his flight on the day before. Here he swept round several times in ever widening circles, carefully scanning the ground. The camp had completely disappeared. Thinking that in so wide an area the small object which the encampment would present at so great a depth might escape his notice, he wheeled again and again, until he assured himself that no trace of it was discoverable. Then he was setting his course to return to the valley, looking southward to pick up his bearings, when there was a sudden shout from the Gurkha. He glanced round: the man was pointing excitedly to the north-west.Slowing down a little, but without altering his course, Bob looked in the same direction. The country was now bathed in sunlight; the air was clear; but he could perceive nothing to account for his companion's excitement. He had faith enough in the man's intelligence, however, to wheel round once more, and steer away from the valley."What is it, Fazl?" he asked."Tents, sahib; many tents, like flowers in a field."It was at least a minute before Bob's less keen eyes were able to confirm the man's strange announcement. Then he recognized that a huge brown patch, which he might well have mistaken for an outcrop of rock, or some other natural feature of the landscape, was in reality an aggregation of nomad tents, similar to those which he had passed on the hill-side behind.If he had felt dismay at the sight of the force assembled in the valley, his feeling now bordered on stupefaction. His brain was in a whirl. The misdeeds of Nurla Bai were as a pebble cast into a pond. The spreading circles had embraced a troop of Kalmuck horsemen, then a regiment, finally what appeared to be an army. The motive had developed from the spite and revenge of a single man to the greed of a company, and now--to what? Surely the inhabitants of this vast array of tents were not assembled for the puny purpose of snapping up a solitary silver mine. What design had brought them to this remote and barren tract in a desolate land?[image]RECONNOITRING IN THE AEROPLANEThese were questions to which Bob was utterly unable to guess at the answers. His surprise and alarm did but increase as he approached the scene. Around a point where a small tributary joined the river from the south-east, extended a large bare space several miles in area. Of this open tract a portion that must have been at least a square mile in area, bounded on one side by the left bank of the tributary and on the other by the right bank of the river, was dotted with a series of encampments, arranged in regular order, and looking in the distance not unlike a kind of chess-board. Counting them as he drew nearer, Bob found that there were twenty of these separate camps. As he approached the nearest, he tried to number the rows of tents, and the individual tents in each row. But his pace was too swift and his mind too bewildered to allow of an exact reckoning. His impression was that there were twenty rows of tents about ten deep. The tents were apparently small; if he were not deceived by the distance, none of them could harbour more than five or six men. But as his eye ranged over the whole encampment, and he made a rapid calculation, he came to the staggering conclusion that the total force there on the ground beneath him could not be far short of twenty thousand men.CHAPTER THE ELEVENTHTHE FIGHT AT THE BRIDGEIn the first moments of this amazing discovery, Bob's mind was confused by the multiplicity of his sensations and imaginings. There were several problems all clamouring at once for solution: his uncle's fate, the plight of Lawrence, the future of the mine. But he soon realized that no good result would come of aimless conjectures; "One thing at a time, and concentrate your attention" had been the motto dinned into him by one of his schoolmasters. The one insistent thing now was to learn all that he could about this encampment--too large to be a fortuitous gathering of nomads, too regular to be other than military in its organization.Bob flew straight for the camp, and when he came above its centre he began to circle round and round with the object of getting a clear and orderly idea of its nature. Observation from the great height to which he had risen was not easy, and the necessity of keeping part of his attention upon the aeroplane was a drawback. Naturally he could not entrust the machine to Fazl, who was making his first flight. On the other hand the Gurkha, who was wholly without nervousness, could devote himself entirely to the task of observing. Thus, combining what Fazl reported with what he was himself able to see, Bob obtained in the course of twenty minutes a pretty good notion of the disposition of the camp and the various movements that were going on.To the north, a large body of horsemen, who were exercising when he first caught sight of them, came to a halt, and were evidently intent on watching the flying machine. Still farther northward, long trains of primitive ox wagons were lumbering towards the camp, with a caravan of camels here and there. Attached to the body of cavalry on the plain there were no fewer than six batteries of field artillery. There was no regular road into or out of this solitary region, but from the appearance of the ground it was clear that the army had reached its present position from the north-west. There was a narrower and fainter track leading from the camp in the direction of the valley--no doubt the route followed by the men now posted on the river bank.It was inevitable that the sight of the aeroplane, wheeling over the encampment in regular circles, should arouse lively curiosity and excitement among the throngs of men below. Its appearance was greeted at first with shouts either of surprise or alarm. Bob had twice made the circuit before any action was taken: apparently the spectators had not made up their minds as to the nature of this strange visitor, or were waiting for orders. But as he began to circle for the third time a change came over the scene. His systematic movements forced upon the men the notion that he was scouting, spying upon them; and as soon as this was realized they came to the conclusion that he was an enemy who must be dealt with. At first there were a few scattered shots; then regular volleys; at last an almost continuous crackle of musketry. By this time Bob had discovered all that was possible from his altitude, and feeling that nothing was to be gained by running risks, he decided to swing round and head for the valley.The marksmanship of the enemy's riflemen had not been such as to alarm him hitherto; but it was a different matter when, soon after he turned, the aeroplane became the target of one of the field batteries. Hearing the deeper crack of two of the guns, he instantly steered to the left, to gain a minute's grace while the guns were being trained in the new direction. No third shot was fired; the gunners evidently recognized that the odds were all against their hitting him. At the same time a troop of horse who had started at a gallop in pursuit reined up; since the guns were ineffectual it was not worth while chasing him on the chance of a sudden mishap bringing him to the ground.Another five minutes brought him to the entrance of the valley. He still maintained a great height until he had passed over the encampment on the lull-side; then, instructing Fazl to wave the red handkerchief as they flew over the bridge, he executed a steep vol plané down to the neighbourhood of the rocks held by Lawrence and the Pathans. It went altogether against the grain to skim over the open space without landing; but he knew that he could not have done so without becoming the mark for hundreds of bullets. No other course was open to him than to adhere to the plan already arranged with Lawrence, and sweep on up the gorge towards the mine.Another cheer greeted him from the little party below. All, then, was still well with them. Accepting the signal of the red flag, Lawrence would now withdraw his men, and hasten up the track as swiftly as possible. No doubt he would get a mount behind one of the Pathans. That pursuit by the enemy would be doubly difficult Bob recognized when he noticed--what had escaped his observation as he flew down-stream--that the handrail of the bridge had now disappeared. There was no means of crossing the river at this point. He supposed that Lawrence, during the night, had taken the precaution to cut the rope. This was reassuring; it seemed to show that Lawrence, though without military training and, as he himself had said, without military instincts, yet was possessed of readiness and common sense, qualities of much value both to soldiers and civilians.At the same time Bob was rather loth to leave his brother to deal with the enemy alone, in case they managed in some unimaginable way to cross the river. He felt tempted to land somewhere within a few miles of the bridge, and return on foot to take command of the party. But on second thoughts this seemed to him a short-sighted policy. Though he could not conceive that this army corps was directed against the Appleton mine, the situation clearly demanded that he should return and assist in completing the havildar's arrangements for the defence. The capture of the mine might be regarded by the enemy as a trifling exploit by the way. It was particularly important that the large force of Kalmuck miners should be disposed of. They, if they realized the position, held the key of the situation. There was little doubt that with a sudden rush they could scatter the few Pathans now left at the mine, in the teeth of the Sikh garrison. They would then be able to cut off the retreat of Lawrence and his party, trapped between the Kalmuck miners and their countrymen advancing up the valley. It was imperative, then, that he should get back to the mine as quickly as possible, and his uneasiness at leaving Lawrence was partially removed when, a dozen miles from the bridge, he met the party of Pathans whom he had dispatched overnight. Yet, if he could have foreseen the events of the next few hours, he would have cast to the winds all questions of policy, and risked a descent.As he flew over the bridge, there had been nothing, except the broken rope, to indicate that any change had taken place in the situation since he left the spot on the previous evening. But Lawrence, during the hours of darkness, had in fact passed through the most exciting experience of his life.When Bob sailed away up the gorge, and as soon as the humming of his propeller could no longer be heard, Lawrence began to carry out his instructions for the night. He felt no little anxiety; indeed, it was a trying position for a lad who found himself, for the first time in his life, faced with difficulties and dangers for which he had had no preparation. But after all, it is character that tells. Lawrence was naturally cool and level-headed; he had been known at school as a "sticker" at cricket; he could wear out half-a-dozen bowlers. His school had taught him lessons of self-reliance, and though he had never been very enthusiastic in the cadet corps, he had won the mark of efficiency, could shoot straight, and had learnt to think quickly and act with promptitude. So, in spite of a natural nervousness, he saw quite clearly what he had to do, and had grit enough to make up his mind to do it.He stationed two men behind the rocks near the bridge head, ordering them to fire if they saw the least sign of an attempt to cross. They were to be relieved every two hours. Mindful of Bob's advice, he determined to keep watch all night himself: there was no one to relieve him. Very soon, as night settled deep upon the valley, he began to feel the cold, and thought regretfully of the thick coat lying on his seat in the aeroplane. After the fatigues and wearing anxieties of the day he was not in a condition to face the added strain of a long vigil in the freezing air. He had great difficulty in keeping awake, and when one of the Pathans lent him a saddle cloth in which to wrap himself, he soon discarded it, lest the deceitful warmth should overcome his watchfulness.He dared not move about, but sat crouched on the ground beside the Pathans with his rifle across his knees, listening for any sign of the approach of the enemy. More than once he had to stir up his companions when they dozed, until he grew tired of it; he would rely on himself, and wake them at the first threatening of danger. But he found it increasingly difficult to resist the soporific influence of the cold, and of the monotonous lullaby sung by the river as it flowed past at the foot of the shelving bank beneath him. Every now and then he got up, stretched himself, and sat down again, not venturing even to slap himself with his arms for fear of putting the enemy on the alert. He gazed up into the sky, and tried to count and to identify the stars, which, in this deep valley, appeared to him, he thought, as they would appear to an observer at the bottom of a well. From time to time he exchanged a few whispered words with his companions, until this resource failed him through their slumberousness. When, at the end of the first two hours, the men were relieved, the circumstances of the change had the effect of rousing him a little; but the second pair were even more sleepy than the first, and he lacked the energy to be continually prodding them.At length, when, in spite of his utmost efforts, he was nodding with drowsiness, his ear was suddenly caught by a slight sound beneath him. He pulled himself together, and listened intently. There was no repetition of the sound. He began to think that he had been mistaken, or that the sound had been made by some small animal scurrying along the bank. But a few seconds later he heard it again; it was like that of a small stone rolling down the rocky shelf. Now fully awake, he nudged his companions and in a whisper bade them keep quiet and listen. The Pathan passes from profound sleep to complete wakefulness in an instant. They sat erect, all their senses on the alert. For a few moments nothing was heard but the gurgling rush of the river; then with startling suddenness the three watchers were aware that men were scrambling up the slope. They sprang up. Dark shapes were dimly outlined beyond the rocks. The Pathans fired, aiming as it were at shadows. Their shots did not check the rush. In another moment, clubbing their rifles, Lawrence and they were raining blows upon a swarm of figures that seemed to spring out of the black depths beneath them.Neither Lawrence nor either of the men could afterwards give a lucid account of the confused scramble that ensued. All that they were sure about was that, if they saw a form between them and the river, they hit out at it. It soon became impossible to distinguish friend from foe. In spite of their swift and weighty strokes the enemy, whose number seemed only to increase, pressed ever more closely upon them.Lawrence had just brought the butt of his rifle down with a rattling thud upon what he hoped was a Mongol skull, when the weapon was seized, and he felt himself jerked forward. He clung to the barrel tenaciously, but in trying to hold his own in this tug-of-war he lost his footing, let go the rifle perforce, and found himself rolling, or rather jolting, down the bank. Grasping at the sharp knobs of rock, he checked his fall before he came to the water's edge, and lay for an instant to collect himself. It was perhaps a minute since the tussle had begun.Hitherto the enemy had preserved a remarkable silence. The two Pathans, on the other hand, had raised lusty shouts, calling to their companions by name. Roused by the shots, and urged on by their comrades' cries, the Pathans behind the rocks some little distance up-stream came bounding to the rescue. Lawrence heard scrambling footsteps above him; he was kicked in the side by a man coming hastily down the bank, and the sound of splashes near at hand seemed to show that the enemy, in full retreat, were plunging into the river. Their surprise having failed, they had lost heart. Climbing the bank on all fours, Lawrence found his whole party assembled above. Just as he reached them, the newcomers opened fire upon several figures which they saw swinging themselves over by the rope. At the first shot these men halted, turned, and began frantically to work themselves back towards the farther side. Then Fyz Ali sprang forward on to the tangled debris of the bridge, and with two sweeping strokes of his knife cut the rope in twain. There was a mighty splash, a howl of rage, and then silence."What orders, sahib?" said the Pathan. In the short, sharp, confused struggle, the men were unaware of Lawrence's narrow escape, and were no more concerned about him than about themselves. Every one of them bore some mark of the conflict--bruise, abrasion, or knife-cut. Lawrence felt bruised from top to toe. But in the dark no man could see his fellow's wounds, and it would have been thought childish to talk of them."We had better stay here for the rest of the night," said Lawrence, in reply to Fyz Ali's question. "You have quite done for the bridge, and it's no use to anybody. But those badmashes got over some other way, and they would do it again if we weren't here to stop them.""That is true, sahib--if they like to put their fingers into the fire.""How did they get across? They could hardly swim up against the current.""Mashallah! Who can say? But we shall know in the morning, sahib."There was no more dozing that night. The whole party sat nursing their rifles and chatting quietly. Lawrence got the men to relate some of the experiences of their life, and though he could not understand very much of what they said, he recognized that there was a rich mine of anecdote to be drawn upon as soon as he had sufficient command of their language.The remaining hours of darkness were undisturbed, and at dawn there was no renewal of hostilities. The daylight gave a clue to the means by which the enemy had crossed the river. At the foot of the rocks south of the bridge, near Lawrence's rifle, lay several inflated water-skins. Fyz Ali guessed that the men had crept along the opposite bank to some distance above the bridge, then taken the water, and supporting themselves on the skins, had steered themselves over.Lawrence wondered whether the enemy had evacuated their position beyond the bend in the track. Attempts to draw their fire were unsuccessful, and he remained in doubt until the passing of the aeroplane overhead was saluted with a volley. His doubts being now removed, he waited anxiously for Bob's return. His uncle's fate, never for long absent from his mind, made him uneasy as to his brother's chances of escaping scot-free. As time passed, and there was no sign of the aeroplane, he grew more and more restless, imagining all sorts of mishaps that might have occurred. He expected Bob to return within half an hour; it would not take longer to fly to the plateau and back; and his watch having stopped through his immersion on the previous day, he could only guess at the flight of time, with the result that he supposed Bob's absence to have been longer than it really was.His intense relief when at last he saw the aeroplane in the distant sky, gave way to disquietude again when Bob swooped down towards the bridge within range of the enemy's fire. The fluttering of the red flag was welcome to him, even though he understood it as a sign that the enemy were in considerable force. It was also a signal to retreat to the mine, and he was glad of the chance of stretching his limbs and of soon rejoining his brother. He at once gave orders to the men to return to their horses. They crossed the open space at the double until they gained the shelter of the screen of rocks. No shots followed them. There was no horse for Lawrence, but Fyz Ali assured him that his own mount was capable of bearing a double burden, and he decided to ride behind him until they had got some distance up the track, and then to walk.He felt that there was no serious risk of pursuit at present. Although the enemy had shown that they could cross the river with the aid of water-skins, they would have great difficulty in bringing their horses over. So he reckoned on getting a long enough start to meet the reinforcements that Bob had promised to send down. Then the combined party, taking advantage of the many defensive positions which the broken ground afforded, could make good their retreat to the mine even against a more numerous enemy in pursuit.CHAPTER THE TWELFTHA SKIRMISH ON THE BANKLawrence, riding behind Fyz Ali, reflected with rueful amusement on the fate which had made him a sort of soldier in his own despite. "I'm not cut out for this kind of job," he thought. "Bob would be elated at having shivered through a night watch, and beaten off an attack. I don't feel particularly jolly; in fact, I feel thoroughly rotten; and there's more to come, worse luck."It is said that the greatest commanders have felt depressed rather than exalted after a victory; so that, remembering the hardships and anxieties of the past twenty-four hours, one can sympathize with Lawrence Appleton. It did not occur to him that he had come through his recent ordeal with much credit, and he was quite unaware that the Pathans ahead were discussing him as they rode, summing him up, and deciding that the chota sahib was a first-rate fighting man.After riding at a trot for about half a mile, Lawrence said:"Now I'll get off and walk, Fyz Ali. The pony's lagging.""Not so, sahib," replied the man. "I will walk; the sahib is used to a softer life.""The more reason why I should harden myself.""That is true, sahib; but it is foolishness to yoke a calf to an ox-wagon."By which Lawrence understood that this stalwart man regarded him as still an ungrown boy. He made no more objection; Fyz Ali dismounted, and kept pace with him over the rugged ground to which they had now come.Thus the little party marched for another mile. They went for the most part in single file, the track only rarely widening so much as to give them room to ride abreast. It was at one of such broader stretches that a sudden demand was made upon Lawrence's quickness and resource. He was riding in front with two of the Pathans; the other two mounted men were a few yards behind, with Fyz Ali on foot between them. Quite suddenly, about two hundred yards ahead, there came into view from round a high rock a band of at least a score of men, marching towards them. Lawrence had been expecting to meet the Pathan reinforcements from the mine, and he might at the first moment have mistaken the strangers but for a savage yell from the men at his side. Then he recognized in a flash that they were Kalmucks.Both parties had momentarily halted; each was as much surprised as the other. Then, as Lawrence saw some of the Kalmucks lifting rifles to their shoulders, he became instantly alive to the situation. Without a moment's hesitation he dug his heels into the flanks of his pony, and, shouting to his men to come on, he rode straight at the enemy. It was the psychological moment. The Kalmucks were apparently without a leader; or their leader, if they had one, was a shade less quick-witted than the Englishman. With a spirited captain the warlike Pathans will go anywhere and do anything. Responding to his call with a true mountaineer's yell the men urged their steeds to a gallop, and swooped down upon the still hesitating enemy.Lawrence could not have decided better if all the circumstances had been known to him. Some of the Kalmucks, after the failure of their night attack, had crossed the river some distance below the bridge, and marching on foot for long hours in the darkness over the difficult and tortuous path through the hills, had turned back along the track to take the defenders in the rear. They were weary: they had no regular leader; and being accustomed to fight on horseback they were demoralized at the sight of mounted Pathans, few as they were, galloping straight at them. With a well-directed volley they might have annihilated the little band; but they let the opportunity slip. A few stood their ground and fired; the rest took flight, and while some scurried up the hill-side, seeking cover in the broken ground, where horses could not well follow them, others turned tail and bolted straight back along the track.The few shots thus wildly fired missed all the Pathans save one, and he was only scratched. Lawrence and his men pressed their advantage. Two of the Pathans wheeled to the right, and in spite of the steepness of the hill-side and the many natural obstacles, they dashed up in pursuit of the fleeing Kalmucks, cutting down several with their terrible tulwars before they could reach safety. Lawrence rode straight at the men who had fired. He overturned one by the impact of his horse, struck another down with his clubbed rifle, and then led his men after the others, who were running, some up, some down the bank. Two or three Kalmucks sprang into the river; within ten minutes the whole body was completely scattered. Only at the last did one who had climbed to an inaccessible crag on the hill-side and recovered from his panic, take good aim and roll a Pathan from his horse with a mortal wound.The charge was over; the victory was complete; and Lawrence reined up his panting pony. Not till then did he remember that Fyz Ali was not mounted, and must have been left far behind. What had become of him? Lawrence turned and looked back along the track. He was not in sight."Stay here," he said to the Pathans; "I'll go back and look for Fyz Ali.""Hai, sahib!" said one of the men, "it is foolishness. See, Ayoub is dead. Some of the dogs of Kalmucks are hiding behind the rocks above; they will shoot you even as they shot Ayoub.""Nonsense: I'm riding Fyz Ali's horse: I can't leave him in the lurch."He rode back along the track, and after a moment's hesitation one of the Pathans followed him. Warned by the fate of Ayoub they proceeded with caution, scanning the hill-side for signs of the enemy. For half a mile or more they saw neither foe nor friend, except the bodies of those who had fallen in the fray. Then they came in view of a strange procession. At this point the hill-side to the left of the track rose so steeply as to be unscalable. It was here that the Kalmucks, hard pressed, had flung themselves into the river. A few hundred yards ahead they saw two men approaching them, walking slowly backward. One of them was Fyz Ali, the other a Kalmuck. Fyz Ali had the man by the middle, holding him so that he formed a screen against a dozen Kalmucks who were slipping from rock to rock on the hill-side some distance beyond. Evidently they were watching for a chance to take a shot at the Pathan, but were baffled by his ingenious device. By keeping the prisoner constantly between him and them, he rendered it impossible for them to fire without the risk of hitting their own man.Smiling with appreciation of Fyz Ali's manoeuvre, Lawrence dismounted, and ordered his man to dismount also. Then leading the ponies behind a rock, they knelt down, took aim at the distant Kalmucks, and fired. It was doubtful whether their shots took effect, but they checked the pursuit, and Fyz Ali seized the opportunity to hasten his retreat. Hugging the perpendicular wall, he came nearer and nearer, never loosing his hold of the Kalmuck, nor allowing his own person to be exposed.The Kalmucks beyond returned Lawrence's fire, but they made no attempt to advance. They were not equal to the desperate venture of leaving their cover among the rocks and running the gauntlet along the open space which Fyz Ali and his prisoner were now traversing. In another two minutes the Pathan had joined his master."That was well done," said Lawrence, welcoming him.Fyz Ali, breathing hard, set his prisoner against the rock, and holding him there with his left hand, drew his tulwar."No, no," said Lawrence hastily."Why, sahib? He is a Kalmuck," said Fyz Ali, and his eyes glared as he looked round."It is not our way," said Lawrence, "to kill prisoners. And he is unarmed.""But I am not!" growled the Pathan. "Would he not kill me? Did not Nurla Bai try to kill Muhammad, unarmed and sleeping? It will be short, sahib.""No, I can't allow it. Tie his hands together so that he can do no mischief; then we'll leave him to his friends."Fyz Ali muttered between his teeth, but obeyed. He tore off the man's coat; it was dripping wet; the Kalmuck was one of those who had sprung into the river, and he had clambered up the bank in the nick of time to serve the quick-witted Pathan as a screen. With a few strokes of his tulwar Fyz Ali slit the coat into shreds, with which he bound the trembling man's hands together. Then, striking him heavily on the face--the Pathan is not chivalrous towards his enemies--he hauled him to the top of a rock, and left him there.Lawrence and the two Pathans then hastened back to the place where they had left the others. These had given their dead comrade burial in the river. Then all resumed their march. They looked back whenever they reached a spot where they could get a view of the track behind them, but there was no sign of pursuit."They must have come over the hills in the night," said Lawrence, walking beside Fyz Ali, whom he had insisted on remounting. "Where does the hill-path join the track?""I know not, sahib," replied the man. "The Kalmucks know the path: it is their country.""Well, keep your eyes open as we go, and see if you can find it. We may as well know."They scanned the hill-side narrowly, and about twenty minutes later Lawrence noticed a narrow cleft in the precipice above the track which might possibly be the lower end of the hill-path. He stopped and examined the ground at the entrance, but it was so hard that the skin boots of the Kalmucks could have left no trace on it. Had they been mounted, the hoof marks would have been easily discoverable. Lawrence glanced up the winding cleft. It seemed an unlikely enough passage-way; indeed, at a height of several hundred feet above the track it appeared to come abruptly to an end. Lawrence deliberated for a few moments whether to climb and satisfy himself one way or the other; but decided that he had better not delay.Ten minutes later they met the reinforcements from the mine. The men had heard firing in the distance and hurried on at full speed. On learning from their comrades of what had happened, they were eager to push on and annihilate the surviving Kalmucks, and one of them, when Lawrence refused to go back, muttered under his breath that the Englishman was afraid. Fyz Ali caught the words, and turned fiercely on the man."I'll slit your throat if you talk foolishness, Hosein," he said. "The chota sahib is a man; get that into your silly head. Did he not fight at the bridge? And when we met those Kalmuck pigs, did he not in a twinkling see what was to be done, and ride straight at them, cheering as the sahibs always do? And when I was left behind, he came back for me, though the dogs were hidden among the rocks and had just killed Ayoub. He is a man, I tell you; mashallah! what he says is good, and what he does is better, and I will cut your hand off if you do not swear to follow wherever he leads.""Peace, brother," said the man. "How was I to know? His beard is not yet grown. Allah is great! All the sahibs are men, even in the cradle."
CHAPTER THE TENTH
A FATEFUL DISCOVERY
It was an oddly assorted conclave that met in Mr. Appleton's dining-room a little later. Bob had had a hot bath and a large bowl of coffee, which, Chunda Beg--not partial to stimulants--assured him, would do him more good than brandy. He sat now muffled in his dressing-gown in an armchair before the stove, his legs and feet swathed in blankets. On one side stood the tall dignified old Sikh Gur Buksh, straight as a dart, his face grave, his hands clasped upon the hilt of his sword, whose point was on the floor. Between Bob and the havildar sat Ditta Lal, who had requested permission to seat himself, on the ground that he was one of those "who fardels bear."
"In other words, sir," he said, "I turn scale at eighteen stone, and too much standing on pins is one of many causes of varicosity according to little homoeopathic vade-mecum."
Bob was apt to be impulsive, but he had determined to give no information on his side until he had learnt how things had gone at the mine during the day. He asked Gur Buksh to report.
"I have done what the huzur said, sahib," declared the havildar in deep measured tones. "No work has been done to-day. We have kept the Pathans and the Kalmucks apart. They have reviled each other; blood has been hot, and I feared they would use their guns upon each other; but some of my men have patrolled the ground between them, and kept the peace."
"You have done well," said Bob; "though if the men had been kept at work they could not have got into mischief."
Gur Buksh pointed out, however, that it would not have been safe to allow the miners to cross the bridge. They would certainly have come into collision, and with guns, picks and hammers in their possession they could have overwhelmed the little garrison if it had come to fighting at close quarters.
"Very well," said Bob. "Now I have grave news for you. We overtook Nurla Bai and his man nearly fifty miles down the river. As we flew over them one of them fired and hit the Burra Sahib, who fell into the stream."
"Hai! hai!" ejaculated the Babu. Gur Buksh was mute.
"We wheeled round as soon as we could, to look for the Burra Sahib. We could not find him. Either he was mortally wounded and sank to the bottom" (the Babu groaned), "or he was washed down and fell into the hands of the enemy, for the two ruffians had joined a band of Kalmucks who had come up from an encampment we had previously seen on the plateau some miles farther on. We came down and landed the aeroplane just above the bridge, and walked a long way down the track. We saw no sign of the Burra Sahib, and were chased by the Kalmucks on horseback, and only escaped because the Pathans had arrived in our absence, and opened fire from an ambush behind the rocks. They could not cross, because the bridge was broken by Nurla Bai and Tchigin galloping across it; my brother and I had to swing ourselves over the river by the single rope that was left uninjured."
"Hai! Wonders will never cease!" murmured the Babu.
Bob related the incidents of the afternoon, and explained the impossibility of removing the aeroplane until nightfall, and the arrangements he had made with Lawrence.
"We cannot help believing that the Kalmucks intend to attack the mine," he said in conclusion. "To-morrow morning I shall fly back, and send all the Pathans to join their mates. If I should find that the enemy have gone, we shall renew the search for the Burra Sahib. If they are a band we can tackle, we shall drive them off, or at any rate hold our ground there. But if, as I fear, they are but an advanced guard of the larger force we saw at the encampment, we can do nothing but return here and defend ourselves."
There was silence. Ditta Lal had for some time ceased to make any sound; if Bob had not been so much preoccupied with his thoughts he would have noticed that the Babu was looking exceedingly uneasy. Gur Buksh stood like a statue.
"Now what are we to do, havildar?" said Bob. "Can we defend the mine?"
"We can but try, sahib."
"As soon as it is light I want you to do all you can to strengthen the position. The northern wall must be fortified. There are plenty of empty provision bags in your stores, I believe, Babu?"
Ditta Lal started, and looked at his questioner vacantly.
"Pardon, sir, my mind was busy with great problems, and I did not catch what fell from your lips."
"I asked if you had plenty of empty bags in your storehouse."
"Heaps; a regular lot of them, sir."
"You must fill them with earth, havildar, and pile them against the wall. Make an embrasure in the middle for the machine gun."
"What, sir?" said the Babu, surprised.
"I forgot: you did not know about it. In the little chamber behind the house there is a machine gun, with plenty of ammunition. We will get it out in the morning."
"It is good, sahib," said the havildar.
"You knew about it?" said Bob, catching a curious expression on the Sikh's countenance.
"I knew about it, sahib. I saw the parts unpacked."
"And locked your knowledge in your silent bosom," said the Babu, with an aggrieved look. "That was cruelty to animals, sir. With knowledge of so ingenious a weapon of defence we should all have slept more securely in our beds."
"All this must be done as quietly as possible," continued Bob, ignoring the Babu's indignant protest. "We must try not to let the Kalmucks on the other side know that anything out of the ordinary is going on."
"That will not be easy, sahib," said the havildar.
"Perhaps not, but you must do the best you can. I said just now that I would send all the Pathans down the river, but you will want some of them to work. Will they be loyal?"
"The huzur is their father, sahib. They will fight for him and for you. To them the Kalmucks are sons of pigs."
"How is Muhammad, by the way?"
"His wound is healing; he will be well to-morrow--well enough to fight the Kalmucks."
"I will see him in the morning. I am rather troubled as to what to do with the Kalmuck miners. They will side with their countrymen if they come up in force, and every man extra will add to our difficulties."
"The sahib should send them away," said Gur Buksh.
"But we can't send them down-stream until my brother comes back, and that's their natural way. They won't go without their arms, and Lawrence Sahib and the Pathans might be attacked then on both sides; and they would certainly refuse to go in the opposite direction, away from their homes."
"Permit me to interpose, sir," said Ditta Lal, who had for some time taken no part in the discussion. "I have suggestion for cutting Gordian knot. Many years ago, sir, my uncle, member of celebrated Hunza Nagar expeditionary force, made proposal which, if taken at the flood, would have led to fortune. British force would have triumphed over dastardly foes, and many valuable lives would have been saved to honour and glory of king and country."
"Cut it short, Babu," said Bob. "What is your proposal?"
"Perpend, sir. Our friend and comrade Gur Buksh will cross bridge--or better Shan Tai--gather Kalmucks about him, and offer to beguile tedium of inaction by great feast, Chinese delicacies, stews and all that, regular blow out. While he engages Kalmucks in this artless conversation, make mouths water galore, one of noble garrison steals behind their backs into huts, inserts dynamite and fuse into walls, and retires with careful slowness, as if nothing was up, and he were merely strolling for constitutional. Then in midst of jollification huts all blow up like one o'clock, and scoundrels wallow in their gore."
"That was your uncle's suggestion, was it?" said Bob.
"That was it, sir, and my respected uncle was hurt in inmost soul when advice was contumeliously rejected. Such was his military ardour that he had made profound study of all books extant on art of war and duty of soldiers, and he assured me with tears welling out of dove-like eyes that nowhere did he find regulation forbidding adoption of artful dodge."
"Well, you'd better follow his example--only weep quietly."
"My word is this, sahib," said Gur Buksh. "Wait until Lawrence Sahib is back; then send the Kalmucks away. They will join their friends; who can resist Fate? we must fight them all. And I say too, sahib, send some of the Pathans this night to join Lawrence Sahib. They will go with great gladness of heart."
"That's a good idea. They will get to him before I start in the morning. But how can we get them off without making the Kalmucks suspicious? Some one would have to cross the bridge to give them orders. The bridge can't be let down without a good deal of noise, and that would certainly bring them out to see what was going on."
The havildar thought for a minute, then suggested that Bob in his company should pay a visit of inspection to each of the camps. Mr. Appleton had several times done this at night, and if Bob were to make his inspection as formal in appearance as possible, nothing would be so likely to lull their suspicions. To this proposal Bob agreed. He dressed quickly, and in a few minutes left the house, with the havildar marching behind.
They visited the Kalmuck camp first, going from hut to hut, in which the men were engaged in various games. Some of them looked up in stolid silence as the sahib glanced round, uttered a word or two, and passed on. Others were sufficiently curious to ask what was happening down the river, and why the huzur had not returned. Bob fenced with their questions, and when he left them felt that he had only heightened their curiosity, even though he had given no sign that anything was amiss. Then, to keep up the pretence, he went to the stables, finally crossing to the Pathan camp, where he found a still more eager curiosity. Calling out the man who was next in authority to the wounded Muhammad, he told him quietly what he wished him to do, without informing him of the disappearance of Mr. Appleton. The man was delighted with the opportunity of leading a night march against the hated Kalmucks. A sudden and secret raid is the breath of life to a Pathan. He selected a dozen men to accompany him. Gur Buksh, without attracting attention, supplied them with arms, better than their own, from the mine armoury; and before nine o'clock they left their camp stealthily, making their way in single file up the hill path that skirted the Kalmuck quarters.
Bob and the havildar returned to their own side of the gorge and waited anxiously to assure themselves that the movement was not detected by the Kalmucks. The place at which the Pathans must descend to join the track was something less than two hundred yards north of the Kalmuck camp, and if one of them chanced to set a stone rolling, or struck his rifle against the rock, the sound would almost certainly be heard below. But not a click disturbed the stillness; no sound was added to the rustle of the river; and after waiting at the end of the drawbridge for about half an hour, Bob concluded that the men had reached the track safely, and returned with the havildar to the house.
There they remained for an hour discussing the measures which the havildar was to take next day. Ditta Lal had retired to his own quarters, to pass, it is to be feared, a very uneasy night: he was bold only when the odds were heavily on his side. Presently Fazl came to the house to report that he had cleaned the engine, replenished the tanks with petrol and lubricating oil, and examined all the gear. A thought struck Bob.
"I shall fly down-stream again as soon as it is light," he said. "Are you willing to come with me?"
"The sahib orders," said the man, smiling with pleasure.
"Then get Shan Tai to give you two or three baskets of food and take them to the ledge. Meet me there as soon as there's any light in the sky. Bring your kukuri."
Fazl smiled again. No Gurkha goes abroad without his national weapon, half bill-hook, and half falchion. He departed, salaaming cheerfully.
"He'll be useful in looking after the machine if I'm otherwise engaged," thought Bob, as he went wearily to his room, to snatch a few hours' rest before he set off again. "Poor old Lawrie!" he said to himself. "I'm afraid he's desperately cold."
In the hurry of departure he had forgotten to hand out the wadded coat which Lawrence, like himself, wore when flying. Whether the little party at the bridge were disturbed by the enemy or not, he feared that his brother must pass a very uncomfortable night.
Up before daybreak, Bob, after a hurried breakfast, paid the promised visit to Muhammad, to whom, however, he told nothing. If the man was to be of any use in the fighting that might be in store, it was necessary that he should recover his strength, and such recovery would only be retarded by excitement. Then Bob supplied himself with plenty of cartridges, borrowed a red handkerchief from Chunda Beg, and made his way along the path to the aeroplane platform. Fazl was already there: everything was in order: and as soon as the grey light of dawn began to creep over the hill-tops, the two men got into their places, and with a hum and swish the aeroplane set forth on its flight down-stream.
Bob's experience of the previous night was reversed. Then, the curtain of shade had rolled up from the valley, ever higher, until sky and earth were mingled in one blackness. Now, the dark crept gradually downward, every minute uncovering a few more feet of the barren hill-sides. But during the brief flight from the mine the depths of the valley were scarcely penetrated by the feeble rays of morning, and it was not until the aeroplane came to the neighbourhood of the bridge that the river and the track upon its bank were distinguishable. Bob knew not what he might have passed during that forty minutes. Once, when he judged that about two-thirds of the flight was completed, he thought he heard a shout from below, and guessed that the Pathans, marching down the track, had caught the sound of his propeller, and had called to let him know that all was well.
The twilight had banished darkness from the bottom of the valley by the time he came in sight of the bridge. He looked anxiously down for his brother's party, and was on the point of shifting the elevator so as to drop a little nearer earth when he saw puffs of smoke just beyond the bend in the left bank, and immediately afterwards heard the crack of rifles. Evidently the enemy were still in position. Reversing his movement, so as to rise instead of falling, and avoid the fate that had overtaken his uncle, he glanced down at the rocks near the bridge head, and saw grouped there a number of figures among whom he thought he recognized Lawrence. At the same moment a vociferous cheer reached him through the throbbing hum of the engine, and the greeting relieved him of anxiety about his brother.
Rising as quickly as possible, he held on his course, and in half a minute flew directly over the Kalmucks, and came in sight of the reach of the river beyond the bend. As he searched the banks, running the gauntlet of a fusillade, he was conscious of a feeling of dismay. For a full mile the river bank appeared to have been turned into a Kalmuck encampment. At irregular intervals above and below the winding track, the hill-side was dotted with tents and akois. Advantage seemed to have been taken of every square yard of level space to erect these portable shelters, which could be put up and taken down within a few minutes. It was clear that he had to reckon, not merely with the small party who had pursued him up-stream, but with a much larger number who had come up from the distant encampment during the previous afternoon and night. Horses were grouped wherever there was standing room for them. On the track and about the tents men were gathered, all gazing up into the sky, some taking shots at the aeroplane as it flew over them. It was flying swiftly, however, and with a vertical as well as a horizontal movement, so that even a practised sportsman, accustomed to shoot birds on the wing, could scarcely have hit his mark. Bob heard two or three bullets whistle past, but none struck the aeroplane or either of its occupants. Having seen so much, he determined to pursue his reconnaissance down the valley; it would be worth while to see if the camp on the plateau had been struck, for he would then be sure that the mine was indeed the objective of this force, and as he flew back be able, perhaps, to estimate its size. For the next few miles only a few straggling horsemen were visible, riding slowly up-stream. Then for a mile or two the track was bare, and he suspected that the men he had last seen were the rear of the enemy's force. Still flying on, he came at length to the place where the valley broadened, and finally to the plateau which had been the limit of his flight on the day before. Here he swept round several times in ever widening circles, carefully scanning the ground. The camp had completely disappeared. Thinking that in so wide an area the small object which the encampment would present at so great a depth might escape his notice, he wheeled again and again, until he assured himself that no trace of it was discoverable. Then he was setting his course to return to the valley, looking southward to pick up his bearings, when there was a sudden shout from the Gurkha. He glanced round: the man was pointing excitedly to the north-west.
Slowing down a little, but without altering his course, Bob looked in the same direction. The country was now bathed in sunlight; the air was clear; but he could perceive nothing to account for his companion's excitement. He had faith enough in the man's intelligence, however, to wheel round once more, and steer away from the valley.
"What is it, Fazl?" he asked.
"Tents, sahib; many tents, like flowers in a field."
It was at least a minute before Bob's less keen eyes were able to confirm the man's strange announcement. Then he recognized that a huge brown patch, which he might well have mistaken for an outcrop of rock, or some other natural feature of the landscape, was in reality an aggregation of nomad tents, similar to those which he had passed on the hill-side behind.
If he had felt dismay at the sight of the force assembled in the valley, his feeling now bordered on stupefaction. His brain was in a whirl. The misdeeds of Nurla Bai were as a pebble cast into a pond. The spreading circles had embraced a troop of Kalmuck horsemen, then a regiment, finally what appeared to be an army. The motive had developed from the spite and revenge of a single man to the greed of a company, and now--to what? Surely the inhabitants of this vast array of tents were not assembled for the puny purpose of snapping up a solitary silver mine. What design had brought them to this remote and barren tract in a desolate land?
[image]RECONNOITRING IN THE AEROPLANE
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RECONNOITRING IN THE AEROPLANE
These were questions to which Bob was utterly unable to guess at the answers. His surprise and alarm did but increase as he approached the scene. Around a point where a small tributary joined the river from the south-east, extended a large bare space several miles in area. Of this open tract a portion that must have been at least a square mile in area, bounded on one side by the left bank of the tributary and on the other by the right bank of the river, was dotted with a series of encampments, arranged in regular order, and looking in the distance not unlike a kind of chess-board. Counting them as he drew nearer, Bob found that there were twenty of these separate camps. As he approached the nearest, he tried to number the rows of tents, and the individual tents in each row. But his pace was too swift and his mind too bewildered to allow of an exact reckoning. His impression was that there were twenty rows of tents about ten deep. The tents were apparently small; if he were not deceived by the distance, none of them could harbour more than five or six men. But as his eye ranged over the whole encampment, and he made a rapid calculation, he came to the staggering conclusion that the total force there on the ground beneath him could not be far short of twenty thousand men.
CHAPTER THE ELEVENTH
THE FIGHT AT THE BRIDGE
In the first moments of this amazing discovery, Bob's mind was confused by the multiplicity of his sensations and imaginings. There were several problems all clamouring at once for solution: his uncle's fate, the plight of Lawrence, the future of the mine. But he soon realized that no good result would come of aimless conjectures; "One thing at a time, and concentrate your attention" had been the motto dinned into him by one of his schoolmasters. The one insistent thing now was to learn all that he could about this encampment--too large to be a fortuitous gathering of nomads, too regular to be other than military in its organization.
Bob flew straight for the camp, and when he came above its centre he began to circle round and round with the object of getting a clear and orderly idea of its nature. Observation from the great height to which he had risen was not easy, and the necessity of keeping part of his attention upon the aeroplane was a drawback. Naturally he could not entrust the machine to Fazl, who was making his first flight. On the other hand the Gurkha, who was wholly without nervousness, could devote himself entirely to the task of observing. Thus, combining what Fazl reported with what he was himself able to see, Bob obtained in the course of twenty minutes a pretty good notion of the disposition of the camp and the various movements that were going on.
To the north, a large body of horsemen, who were exercising when he first caught sight of them, came to a halt, and were evidently intent on watching the flying machine. Still farther northward, long trains of primitive ox wagons were lumbering towards the camp, with a caravan of camels here and there. Attached to the body of cavalry on the plain there were no fewer than six batteries of field artillery. There was no regular road into or out of this solitary region, but from the appearance of the ground it was clear that the army had reached its present position from the north-west. There was a narrower and fainter track leading from the camp in the direction of the valley--no doubt the route followed by the men now posted on the river bank.
It was inevitable that the sight of the aeroplane, wheeling over the encampment in regular circles, should arouse lively curiosity and excitement among the throngs of men below. Its appearance was greeted at first with shouts either of surprise or alarm. Bob had twice made the circuit before any action was taken: apparently the spectators had not made up their minds as to the nature of this strange visitor, or were waiting for orders. But as he began to circle for the third time a change came over the scene. His systematic movements forced upon the men the notion that he was scouting, spying upon them; and as soon as this was realized they came to the conclusion that he was an enemy who must be dealt with. At first there were a few scattered shots; then regular volleys; at last an almost continuous crackle of musketry. By this time Bob had discovered all that was possible from his altitude, and feeling that nothing was to be gained by running risks, he decided to swing round and head for the valley.
The marksmanship of the enemy's riflemen had not been such as to alarm him hitherto; but it was a different matter when, soon after he turned, the aeroplane became the target of one of the field batteries. Hearing the deeper crack of two of the guns, he instantly steered to the left, to gain a minute's grace while the guns were being trained in the new direction. No third shot was fired; the gunners evidently recognized that the odds were all against their hitting him. At the same time a troop of horse who had started at a gallop in pursuit reined up; since the guns were ineffectual it was not worth while chasing him on the chance of a sudden mishap bringing him to the ground.
Another five minutes brought him to the entrance of the valley. He still maintained a great height until he had passed over the encampment on the lull-side; then, instructing Fazl to wave the red handkerchief as they flew over the bridge, he executed a steep vol plané down to the neighbourhood of the rocks held by Lawrence and the Pathans. It went altogether against the grain to skim over the open space without landing; but he knew that he could not have done so without becoming the mark for hundreds of bullets. No other course was open to him than to adhere to the plan already arranged with Lawrence, and sweep on up the gorge towards the mine.
Another cheer greeted him from the little party below. All, then, was still well with them. Accepting the signal of the red flag, Lawrence would now withdraw his men, and hasten up the track as swiftly as possible. No doubt he would get a mount behind one of the Pathans. That pursuit by the enemy would be doubly difficult Bob recognized when he noticed--what had escaped his observation as he flew down-stream--that the handrail of the bridge had now disappeared. There was no means of crossing the river at this point. He supposed that Lawrence, during the night, had taken the precaution to cut the rope. This was reassuring; it seemed to show that Lawrence, though without military training and, as he himself had said, without military instincts, yet was possessed of readiness and common sense, qualities of much value both to soldiers and civilians.
At the same time Bob was rather loth to leave his brother to deal with the enemy alone, in case they managed in some unimaginable way to cross the river. He felt tempted to land somewhere within a few miles of the bridge, and return on foot to take command of the party. But on second thoughts this seemed to him a short-sighted policy. Though he could not conceive that this army corps was directed against the Appleton mine, the situation clearly demanded that he should return and assist in completing the havildar's arrangements for the defence. The capture of the mine might be regarded by the enemy as a trifling exploit by the way. It was particularly important that the large force of Kalmuck miners should be disposed of. They, if they realized the position, held the key of the situation. There was little doubt that with a sudden rush they could scatter the few Pathans now left at the mine, in the teeth of the Sikh garrison. They would then be able to cut off the retreat of Lawrence and his party, trapped between the Kalmuck miners and their countrymen advancing up the valley. It was imperative, then, that he should get back to the mine as quickly as possible, and his uneasiness at leaving Lawrence was partially removed when, a dozen miles from the bridge, he met the party of Pathans whom he had dispatched overnight. Yet, if he could have foreseen the events of the next few hours, he would have cast to the winds all questions of policy, and risked a descent.
As he flew over the bridge, there had been nothing, except the broken rope, to indicate that any change had taken place in the situation since he left the spot on the previous evening. But Lawrence, during the hours of darkness, had in fact passed through the most exciting experience of his life.
When Bob sailed away up the gorge, and as soon as the humming of his propeller could no longer be heard, Lawrence began to carry out his instructions for the night. He felt no little anxiety; indeed, it was a trying position for a lad who found himself, for the first time in his life, faced with difficulties and dangers for which he had had no preparation. But after all, it is character that tells. Lawrence was naturally cool and level-headed; he had been known at school as a "sticker" at cricket; he could wear out half-a-dozen bowlers. His school had taught him lessons of self-reliance, and though he had never been very enthusiastic in the cadet corps, he had won the mark of efficiency, could shoot straight, and had learnt to think quickly and act with promptitude. So, in spite of a natural nervousness, he saw quite clearly what he had to do, and had grit enough to make up his mind to do it.
He stationed two men behind the rocks near the bridge head, ordering them to fire if they saw the least sign of an attempt to cross. They were to be relieved every two hours. Mindful of Bob's advice, he determined to keep watch all night himself: there was no one to relieve him. Very soon, as night settled deep upon the valley, he began to feel the cold, and thought regretfully of the thick coat lying on his seat in the aeroplane. After the fatigues and wearing anxieties of the day he was not in a condition to face the added strain of a long vigil in the freezing air. He had great difficulty in keeping awake, and when one of the Pathans lent him a saddle cloth in which to wrap himself, he soon discarded it, lest the deceitful warmth should overcome his watchfulness.
He dared not move about, but sat crouched on the ground beside the Pathans with his rifle across his knees, listening for any sign of the approach of the enemy. More than once he had to stir up his companions when they dozed, until he grew tired of it; he would rely on himself, and wake them at the first threatening of danger. But he found it increasingly difficult to resist the soporific influence of the cold, and of the monotonous lullaby sung by the river as it flowed past at the foot of the shelving bank beneath him. Every now and then he got up, stretched himself, and sat down again, not venturing even to slap himself with his arms for fear of putting the enemy on the alert. He gazed up into the sky, and tried to count and to identify the stars, which, in this deep valley, appeared to him, he thought, as they would appear to an observer at the bottom of a well. From time to time he exchanged a few whispered words with his companions, until this resource failed him through their slumberousness. When, at the end of the first two hours, the men were relieved, the circumstances of the change had the effect of rousing him a little; but the second pair were even more sleepy than the first, and he lacked the energy to be continually prodding them.
At length, when, in spite of his utmost efforts, he was nodding with drowsiness, his ear was suddenly caught by a slight sound beneath him. He pulled himself together, and listened intently. There was no repetition of the sound. He began to think that he had been mistaken, or that the sound had been made by some small animal scurrying along the bank. But a few seconds later he heard it again; it was like that of a small stone rolling down the rocky shelf. Now fully awake, he nudged his companions and in a whisper bade them keep quiet and listen. The Pathan passes from profound sleep to complete wakefulness in an instant. They sat erect, all their senses on the alert. For a few moments nothing was heard but the gurgling rush of the river; then with startling suddenness the three watchers were aware that men were scrambling up the slope. They sprang up. Dark shapes were dimly outlined beyond the rocks. The Pathans fired, aiming as it were at shadows. Their shots did not check the rush. In another moment, clubbing their rifles, Lawrence and they were raining blows upon a swarm of figures that seemed to spring out of the black depths beneath them.
Neither Lawrence nor either of the men could afterwards give a lucid account of the confused scramble that ensued. All that they were sure about was that, if they saw a form between them and the river, they hit out at it. It soon became impossible to distinguish friend from foe. In spite of their swift and weighty strokes the enemy, whose number seemed only to increase, pressed ever more closely upon them.
Lawrence had just brought the butt of his rifle down with a rattling thud upon what he hoped was a Mongol skull, when the weapon was seized, and he felt himself jerked forward. He clung to the barrel tenaciously, but in trying to hold his own in this tug-of-war he lost his footing, let go the rifle perforce, and found himself rolling, or rather jolting, down the bank. Grasping at the sharp knobs of rock, he checked his fall before he came to the water's edge, and lay for an instant to collect himself. It was perhaps a minute since the tussle had begun.
Hitherto the enemy had preserved a remarkable silence. The two Pathans, on the other hand, had raised lusty shouts, calling to their companions by name. Roused by the shots, and urged on by their comrades' cries, the Pathans behind the rocks some little distance up-stream came bounding to the rescue. Lawrence heard scrambling footsteps above him; he was kicked in the side by a man coming hastily down the bank, and the sound of splashes near at hand seemed to show that the enemy, in full retreat, were plunging into the river. Their surprise having failed, they had lost heart. Climbing the bank on all fours, Lawrence found his whole party assembled above. Just as he reached them, the newcomers opened fire upon several figures which they saw swinging themselves over by the rope. At the first shot these men halted, turned, and began frantically to work themselves back towards the farther side. Then Fyz Ali sprang forward on to the tangled debris of the bridge, and with two sweeping strokes of his knife cut the rope in twain. There was a mighty splash, a howl of rage, and then silence.
"What orders, sahib?" said the Pathan. In the short, sharp, confused struggle, the men were unaware of Lawrence's narrow escape, and were no more concerned about him than about themselves. Every one of them bore some mark of the conflict--bruise, abrasion, or knife-cut. Lawrence felt bruised from top to toe. But in the dark no man could see his fellow's wounds, and it would have been thought childish to talk of them.
"We had better stay here for the rest of the night," said Lawrence, in reply to Fyz Ali's question. "You have quite done for the bridge, and it's no use to anybody. But those badmashes got over some other way, and they would do it again if we weren't here to stop them."
"That is true, sahib--if they like to put their fingers into the fire."
"How did they get across? They could hardly swim up against the current."
"Mashallah! Who can say? But we shall know in the morning, sahib."
There was no more dozing that night. The whole party sat nursing their rifles and chatting quietly. Lawrence got the men to relate some of the experiences of their life, and though he could not understand very much of what they said, he recognized that there was a rich mine of anecdote to be drawn upon as soon as he had sufficient command of their language.
The remaining hours of darkness were undisturbed, and at dawn there was no renewal of hostilities. The daylight gave a clue to the means by which the enemy had crossed the river. At the foot of the rocks south of the bridge, near Lawrence's rifle, lay several inflated water-skins. Fyz Ali guessed that the men had crept along the opposite bank to some distance above the bridge, then taken the water, and supporting themselves on the skins, had steered themselves over.
Lawrence wondered whether the enemy had evacuated their position beyond the bend in the track. Attempts to draw their fire were unsuccessful, and he remained in doubt until the passing of the aeroplane overhead was saluted with a volley. His doubts being now removed, he waited anxiously for Bob's return. His uncle's fate, never for long absent from his mind, made him uneasy as to his brother's chances of escaping scot-free. As time passed, and there was no sign of the aeroplane, he grew more and more restless, imagining all sorts of mishaps that might have occurred. He expected Bob to return within half an hour; it would not take longer to fly to the plateau and back; and his watch having stopped through his immersion on the previous day, he could only guess at the flight of time, with the result that he supposed Bob's absence to have been longer than it really was.
His intense relief when at last he saw the aeroplane in the distant sky, gave way to disquietude again when Bob swooped down towards the bridge within range of the enemy's fire. The fluttering of the red flag was welcome to him, even though he understood it as a sign that the enemy were in considerable force. It was also a signal to retreat to the mine, and he was glad of the chance of stretching his limbs and of soon rejoining his brother. He at once gave orders to the men to return to their horses. They crossed the open space at the double until they gained the shelter of the screen of rocks. No shots followed them. There was no horse for Lawrence, but Fyz Ali assured him that his own mount was capable of bearing a double burden, and he decided to ride behind him until they had got some distance up the track, and then to walk.
He felt that there was no serious risk of pursuit at present. Although the enemy had shown that they could cross the river with the aid of water-skins, they would have great difficulty in bringing their horses over. So he reckoned on getting a long enough start to meet the reinforcements that Bob had promised to send down. Then the combined party, taking advantage of the many defensive positions which the broken ground afforded, could make good their retreat to the mine even against a more numerous enemy in pursuit.
CHAPTER THE TWELFTH
A SKIRMISH ON THE BANK
Lawrence, riding behind Fyz Ali, reflected with rueful amusement on the fate which had made him a sort of soldier in his own despite. "I'm not cut out for this kind of job," he thought. "Bob would be elated at having shivered through a night watch, and beaten off an attack. I don't feel particularly jolly; in fact, I feel thoroughly rotten; and there's more to come, worse luck."
It is said that the greatest commanders have felt depressed rather than exalted after a victory; so that, remembering the hardships and anxieties of the past twenty-four hours, one can sympathize with Lawrence Appleton. It did not occur to him that he had come through his recent ordeal with much credit, and he was quite unaware that the Pathans ahead were discussing him as they rode, summing him up, and deciding that the chota sahib was a first-rate fighting man.
After riding at a trot for about half a mile, Lawrence said:
"Now I'll get off and walk, Fyz Ali. The pony's lagging."
"Not so, sahib," replied the man. "I will walk; the sahib is used to a softer life."
"The more reason why I should harden myself."
"That is true, sahib; but it is foolishness to yoke a calf to an ox-wagon."
By which Lawrence understood that this stalwart man regarded him as still an ungrown boy. He made no more objection; Fyz Ali dismounted, and kept pace with him over the rugged ground to which they had now come.
Thus the little party marched for another mile. They went for the most part in single file, the track only rarely widening so much as to give them room to ride abreast. It was at one of such broader stretches that a sudden demand was made upon Lawrence's quickness and resource. He was riding in front with two of the Pathans; the other two mounted men were a few yards behind, with Fyz Ali on foot between them. Quite suddenly, about two hundred yards ahead, there came into view from round a high rock a band of at least a score of men, marching towards them. Lawrence had been expecting to meet the Pathan reinforcements from the mine, and he might at the first moment have mistaken the strangers but for a savage yell from the men at his side. Then he recognized in a flash that they were Kalmucks.
Both parties had momentarily halted; each was as much surprised as the other. Then, as Lawrence saw some of the Kalmucks lifting rifles to their shoulders, he became instantly alive to the situation. Without a moment's hesitation he dug his heels into the flanks of his pony, and, shouting to his men to come on, he rode straight at the enemy. It was the psychological moment. The Kalmucks were apparently without a leader; or their leader, if they had one, was a shade less quick-witted than the Englishman. With a spirited captain the warlike Pathans will go anywhere and do anything. Responding to his call with a true mountaineer's yell the men urged their steeds to a gallop, and swooped down upon the still hesitating enemy.
Lawrence could not have decided better if all the circumstances had been known to him. Some of the Kalmucks, after the failure of their night attack, had crossed the river some distance below the bridge, and marching on foot for long hours in the darkness over the difficult and tortuous path through the hills, had turned back along the track to take the defenders in the rear. They were weary: they had no regular leader; and being accustomed to fight on horseback they were demoralized at the sight of mounted Pathans, few as they were, galloping straight at them. With a well-directed volley they might have annihilated the little band; but they let the opportunity slip. A few stood their ground and fired; the rest took flight, and while some scurried up the hill-side, seeking cover in the broken ground, where horses could not well follow them, others turned tail and bolted straight back along the track.
The few shots thus wildly fired missed all the Pathans save one, and he was only scratched. Lawrence and his men pressed their advantage. Two of the Pathans wheeled to the right, and in spite of the steepness of the hill-side and the many natural obstacles, they dashed up in pursuit of the fleeing Kalmucks, cutting down several with their terrible tulwars before they could reach safety. Lawrence rode straight at the men who had fired. He overturned one by the impact of his horse, struck another down with his clubbed rifle, and then led his men after the others, who were running, some up, some down the bank. Two or three Kalmucks sprang into the river; within ten minutes the whole body was completely scattered. Only at the last did one who had climbed to an inaccessible crag on the hill-side and recovered from his panic, take good aim and roll a Pathan from his horse with a mortal wound.
The charge was over; the victory was complete; and Lawrence reined up his panting pony. Not till then did he remember that Fyz Ali was not mounted, and must have been left far behind. What had become of him? Lawrence turned and looked back along the track. He was not in sight.
"Stay here," he said to the Pathans; "I'll go back and look for Fyz Ali."
"Hai, sahib!" said one of the men, "it is foolishness. See, Ayoub is dead. Some of the dogs of Kalmucks are hiding behind the rocks above; they will shoot you even as they shot Ayoub."
"Nonsense: I'm riding Fyz Ali's horse: I can't leave him in the lurch."
He rode back along the track, and after a moment's hesitation one of the Pathans followed him. Warned by the fate of Ayoub they proceeded with caution, scanning the hill-side for signs of the enemy. For half a mile or more they saw neither foe nor friend, except the bodies of those who had fallen in the fray. Then they came in view of a strange procession. At this point the hill-side to the left of the track rose so steeply as to be unscalable. It was here that the Kalmucks, hard pressed, had flung themselves into the river. A few hundred yards ahead they saw two men approaching them, walking slowly backward. One of them was Fyz Ali, the other a Kalmuck. Fyz Ali had the man by the middle, holding him so that he formed a screen against a dozen Kalmucks who were slipping from rock to rock on the hill-side some distance beyond. Evidently they were watching for a chance to take a shot at the Pathan, but were baffled by his ingenious device. By keeping the prisoner constantly between him and them, he rendered it impossible for them to fire without the risk of hitting their own man.
Smiling with appreciation of Fyz Ali's manoeuvre, Lawrence dismounted, and ordered his man to dismount also. Then leading the ponies behind a rock, they knelt down, took aim at the distant Kalmucks, and fired. It was doubtful whether their shots took effect, but they checked the pursuit, and Fyz Ali seized the opportunity to hasten his retreat. Hugging the perpendicular wall, he came nearer and nearer, never loosing his hold of the Kalmuck, nor allowing his own person to be exposed.
The Kalmucks beyond returned Lawrence's fire, but they made no attempt to advance. They were not equal to the desperate venture of leaving their cover among the rocks and running the gauntlet along the open space which Fyz Ali and his prisoner were now traversing. In another two minutes the Pathan had joined his master.
"That was well done," said Lawrence, welcoming him.
Fyz Ali, breathing hard, set his prisoner against the rock, and holding him there with his left hand, drew his tulwar.
"No, no," said Lawrence hastily.
"Why, sahib? He is a Kalmuck," said Fyz Ali, and his eyes glared as he looked round.
"It is not our way," said Lawrence, "to kill prisoners. And he is unarmed."
"But I am not!" growled the Pathan. "Would he not kill me? Did not Nurla Bai try to kill Muhammad, unarmed and sleeping? It will be short, sahib."
"No, I can't allow it. Tie his hands together so that he can do no mischief; then we'll leave him to his friends."
Fyz Ali muttered between his teeth, but obeyed. He tore off the man's coat; it was dripping wet; the Kalmuck was one of those who had sprung into the river, and he had clambered up the bank in the nick of time to serve the quick-witted Pathan as a screen. With a few strokes of his tulwar Fyz Ali slit the coat into shreds, with which he bound the trembling man's hands together. Then, striking him heavily on the face--the Pathan is not chivalrous towards his enemies--he hauled him to the top of a rock, and left him there.
Lawrence and the two Pathans then hastened back to the place where they had left the others. These had given their dead comrade burial in the river. Then all resumed their march. They looked back whenever they reached a spot where they could get a view of the track behind them, but there was no sign of pursuit.
"They must have come over the hills in the night," said Lawrence, walking beside Fyz Ali, whom he had insisted on remounting. "Where does the hill-path join the track?"
"I know not, sahib," replied the man. "The Kalmucks know the path: it is their country."
"Well, keep your eyes open as we go, and see if you can find it. We may as well know."
They scanned the hill-side narrowly, and about twenty minutes later Lawrence noticed a narrow cleft in the precipice above the track which might possibly be the lower end of the hill-path. He stopped and examined the ground at the entrance, but it was so hard that the skin boots of the Kalmucks could have left no trace on it. Had they been mounted, the hoof marks would have been easily discoverable. Lawrence glanced up the winding cleft. It seemed an unlikely enough passage-way; indeed, at a height of several hundred feet above the track it appeared to come abruptly to an end. Lawrence deliberated for a few moments whether to climb and satisfy himself one way or the other; but decided that he had better not delay.
Ten minutes later they met the reinforcements from the mine. The men had heard firing in the distance and hurried on at full speed. On learning from their comrades of what had happened, they were eager to push on and annihilate the surviving Kalmucks, and one of them, when Lawrence refused to go back, muttered under his breath that the Englishman was afraid. Fyz Ali caught the words, and turned fiercely on the man.
"I'll slit your throat if you talk foolishness, Hosein," he said. "The chota sahib is a man; get that into your silly head. Did he not fight at the bridge? And when we met those Kalmuck pigs, did he not in a twinkling see what was to be done, and ride straight at them, cheering as the sahibs always do? And when I was left behind, he came back for me, though the dogs were hidden among the rocks and had just killed Ayoub. He is a man, I tell you; mashallah! what he says is good, and what he does is better, and I will cut your hand off if you do not swear to follow wherever he leads."
"Peace, brother," said the man. "How was I to know? His beard is not yet grown. Allah is great! All the sahibs are men, even in the cradle."