CHAPTER THE SIXTEENTHNO THOROUGHFARE"We seem to have lived an age during the last two days," said Bob on greeting Lawrence again in the dining-room. "'One crowded hour of glorious life,' begad! But why aren't you asleep, young man?""I can hardly keep my eyes open, but I shan't sleep till I know where we are. What did your flag mean?""Of course, you don't know. It seems stale news to me. There's a whole army corps encamped ten miles beyond the bridge--twenty thousand men at a guess, with field-guns, all complete. I saw hundreds of transport-wagons rolling up, camel caravans too. It's a big thing.""But what's the game? They don't need an army corps to bag this mine.""Hanged if I know. It seems clear they intend to march up the valley; it was probably an advanced outpost that we came into conflict with. So far as I know the valley leads only to Afghanistan and--India.""Those Mongols we have heard about, then, are going to have a slap at Afghanistan?""Or India!""That's tosh. Twenty thousand men are no good for invading India, and they wouldn't come this way in any case.""That's just what I said to myself. Of course Afghanistan is much nearer, and they might catch the Amir napping by choosing this unusual road. But after all, what concerns us is our position here.""Yes. What have you been doing all day?""Flying up and down like a swallow--or wasn't it an eagle that dropped something on a Johnny's bald skull--in the classics. I haven't done that exactly, but I've had a little practice in bomb dropping."He related the manoeuvres by which he had checked the pursuit of the Pathans and driven the Kalmucks down-stream, and the subsequent adventurous flight of Nurla Bai."Would you have let them shoot at him?" he asked. "The Babu was mad with me.""I don't think I would. It wouldn't be cricket, do you think? The Babu wouldn't learn that sort of thing at Calcutta University!""Have you had any trouble?""Quite enough, I can assure you. In the small hours they tried to cross at the bridge, some of them floating themselves on water-skins. We beat them off at the cost of a few knocks. But some must have got past us over the hills--a mighty big round. We met a crowd of them on foot. Luckily it was all very sudden, and a charge scattered them. We lost one man, but we polished off a lot of them; the Pathans are perfect demons at fighting.""Well done, old chap! Charging was the very thing. These beggars can't face it. I remember that in the Mutiny our men never charged without success. But what about the future? We've two courses open: to pack up and cut our sticks before the Mongols arrive, or to hang on and make the best defence we can. Candidly, I don't see how we can hold the place with our little lot against such a host.""What about Thermopylae and Leonidas?""Yes, but Xerxes hadn't any artillery. Besides, if I'm not mistaken, Leonidas and his three hundred were cut up, to a man.""Only because a traitor showed the Persians a way round to their rear. Still, you know best.""I'll send for old Gur Buksh. He's seen a lot of service, and has a cool head. We're better placed than Leonidas in one respect: traitor or no traitor, we can't be got at from the rear."When the havildar arrived, Bob put the position to him exactly, omitting no detail, and glossing over none of the difficulties."Now, havildar," he said in conclusion, "shall we run, or shall we fight? We ought to have plenty of time to get away. The enemy can't advance in force until they have repaired the bridge, and they'll have to do that thoroughly if they wish to bring their artillery across. It will take them at least a day, probably longer. We can reckon on twenty-four hours' start."The havildar, a fine soldierly figure, stood in silence before the two lads, pondering deeply."The men are very weary, sahib," he said at length. "They could not start before morning. There are not horses for all: the march would be slow, and the journey would be long. We should not be safe for a hundred miles, and if the enemy is so numerous, they would pursue us not only along the track, but over the hills, and outstrip us, and we should not escape.""And what if we remain here?""Who can tell? If we die, we die. But we are safer here, sahib. The enemy cannot haul their guns up the heights opposite. The gorge is narrow; with our gun and our rifles we could prevent them from passing the bend northward--so long as our ammunition lasts.""And how long will that be? And what provisions have we?""There are plenty of cartridges, sahib, and we have those the Kalmucks left behind in their huts. Our provisions would have lasted three weeks for us all; now that the Kalmucks are gone, they will last longer.""I say, Bob," said Lawrence, "why not block up the track? With a good charge of dynamite we could bring down tons of rock on it, and though that wouldn't block the way for ever against twenty thousand men, it would give them a few days' work to clear it.""The chota sahib speaks words of wisdom," said Gur Buksh. "The track is narrow where it bends a little to the north--that is the place to do what the sahib says.""A jolly good notion," said Bob. "We'll set about it to-morrow. Also, havildar, we will strengthen the wall. You have already, I see, lined it with bags of earth, as I ordered. You must throw up behind them a mound of the tailings from the mine. Cover that with earth, and beat it down hard, and we shall have a triple fortification. It won't be very scientific, Lawrie, but it ought to be of some use. Can you think of anything else, havildar?""That is all, sahib. Has the sahib told the Pathans what he has told me?""Oh yes. The men who were chased by the Kalmucks intended to go home, but I told them everything, and I'm sure they will stick to us. You have arranged the sentries for the night?""That is done, sahib.""Then we'll get to bed, Lawrie. We both want a good sound sleep. Wake us if anything happens, havildar."But Gur Buksh had not been gone five minutes, and Bob had not yet taken off his boots, when he was struck with a sudden uneasiness."I say, Lawrie," he exclaimed, "what if the beggars came up during the night? We couldn't use either the machine-gun or our rifles with any effect in the darkness, and they might easily slip past; not without some loss, of course, but not enough to stagger them.""But you said yourself just now that it would take them a whole day to repair the bridge. They couldn't get here before morning.""It would certainly take them a day or longer to make the bridge strong enough to bear their artillery. But we've only the advanced guard to deal with, not the main army, and in two or three hours they could rig up a bridge good enough for themselves and their ponies. They may be only a few hours' march away. I wish we had a searchlight. We could then light up the track at the bend yonder, and give them such a dose that they wouldn't try it again.""Why not try a bonfire? Light a big one just on this side of the bend. That would give us enough light.""A good idea! We'll do it, and to make perfectly sure, we'd better blast the rock at once, and not leave it till the morning. I'll see to it, however; you have a good sleep.""Not a bit of it. I should fall asleep in two ticks if I had nothing to do, but I'm not going to leave you to bear the brunt of everything. We share and share alike.""Thanks, old chap. You see to the dynamite and get a wire spliced for the current while I get the bonfire started."[image]GUR BUKSH DEFENDS THE MINEIn a few minutes a large fire was blazing on a ledge of rock a few feet south of the bend, and a number of Pathans were drilling holes in the cliff. An hour's work by experienced miners would suffice, Bob thought, to prepare for the charge of dynamite. Meanwhile, in the compound, under Lawrence's direction, other men were splicing together several lengths of the wire used for conveying the current from the small electric battery to the mine galleries. A number of boxes were broken up to provide fuel for the bonfire, which, however, it would be hardly necessary to keep alight when once the track had been blocked up by the fallen rocks.These operations were all in progress when there was a sudden commotion among the men drilling the rock. After a moment's hesitation, they dropped their tools and scampered at the top of their speed towards the mine. They had barely crossed the bridge, and this had only been raised a few feet from its platform, when there came swiftly round the bend a string of horsemen, galloping two abreast. Gur Buksh was at his post by the machine-gun. In a few moments it was rattling its shot in a rapid stream towards the enemy, and at the same time the Sikhs opened fire with their rifles. A number of the enemy were seen to fall, either upon the track or over the brink into the river, and the horses of the men immediately behind them stumbled over the prone bodies and in one or two cases threw their riders. There were a few moments of confusion. The quiet of the night was broken by cries and groans and the rattle and hiss of shots. Then the stream of horsemen suddenly stopped. Shouts were heard from beyond the bend, but no more of the enemy appearing, Bob ordered his men to cease fire.Everybody in the mine compound had been so intent on what was happening within the area illuminated by the bonfire that only Bob himself and one or two more had noticed that several of the enemy had got past the critical point before fire was opened. They were now in darkness, but the clatter of their horses' hoofs could be heard on the track just beyond the quarters lately occupied by the Pathans. At this sound Bob had much difficulty in preventing his men from blazing away at random at the cliff opposite. To allow it would be merely to waste ammunition, for the enemy were quite invisible; so he peremptorily ordered them to desist after two or three shots had been fired. When quietness was restored, he heard the horsemen retreating up the valley, and soon the sound of their movements died away."Lucky we didn't go to bed after all," said Bob to Lawrence. "Is that wire ready?""Yes, but the rock isn't drilled yet, is it?""We'll soon finish that. The track must be blocked at once, or we may have this going on all night."He called the miners up, and ordered them to go back to their work."Mashallah, sahib, but it is not safe, we shall all be killed," one of them ventured to say."Nonsense. They won't come on again.""But some have got past, sahib. They will come back and shoot us.""They won't venture within the light of the bonfire, and if they do the Sikhs will shoot them down. Come on: I'll go with you. Give me the dynamite, Lawrence. Fazl, you take the end of the wire. Now then, a few minutes' more work, and we'll tumble a mountain of rock on to the track, and be able to sleep soundly for the rest of the night."His confident bearing, and the example of his personal leadership, inspired the men with courage. The bridge was again lowered; Bob passed over with Fazl and the miners; Lawrence, Gur Buksh and the Sikhs posted themselves between the bridge head and the southern extremity of the compound to guard against any attack on the part of the men who had gone up the track. They could not number more than a dozen or so at the most, and Bob felt sure that after what had occurred they would not be very ready to approach the spot that had proved so fatal to their comrades.He ordered the men to move very quietly. On reaching the place where they had flung down their tools, he bade them wait a little. From round the bend came the sound of voices, apparently some distance away. The enemy had not withdrawn altogether: would they have the courage to come on again? The machine-gun was no protection to the working-party, for it could not fire without great risk of hitting them. Bob sent one of the men back to fetch three of the Sikhs; their rifles might at any rate suffice to check a rush long enough for the miners to retreat to the bridge.As soon as the Sikhs arrived, he ordered the men to resume their drilling, for which the bonfire gave sufficient light. The first sounds attracted the attention of the enemy. They raised their voices, and Bob, grasping his revolver, told the Sikhs to level their rifles and fire if he gave the word. All were concealed from the enemy by the shoulder of the cliff. The work went on without interference from the enemy beyond, but presently shots began to patter on the rocks from the rifles of those who had passed up the valley. The bonfire was now an inconvenience, and the danger was greater to Bob and the Sikhs, who stood erect, than to the miners stretched on the ground. But it was a risk that must be endured, and Bob spoke a cheery word to the men at his side, and urged the miners to hurry on with their work. Unknown to him, at the first shot Lawrence had led the other Sikhs across the bridge and posted them on the track, to repel the Kalmucks if they should venture nearer to get a better aim.In a quarter of an hour the drilling was finished. Bob sent the miners back, and himself laid the charge of dynamite. Then he inserted the wire, and retreated with Fazl and the Sikhs."Good man!" he said to Lawrence when he reached the bridge. "It's all done. We've only to make the contact.""Nobody hit?" asked Lawrence anxiously."Never a man. I think we'd have done better. Now let's get back. In five minutes we'll have a little earthquake."They crossed into the compound, the bridge was raised, and Bob sent Fazl into the shed where the battery was kept, to complete the electric circuit. The firing had ceased. Nothing was to be heard but the rushing water. In a few minutes there was a dull, sullen rumble; the ground quivered, and immediately afterwards a terrific crash which echoed and re-echoed along the valley. The bonfire was suddenly obliterated as by an extinguisher."Another trick to us!" said Bob gleefully. "And now I think we can go to sleep with an easy mind. They won't get past till they've moved a thousand cartloads of rubbish.""What about those fellows who got past?""We can leave Gur Buksh to deal with them. They can't get into the compound; if they did they'd never get out again. I shouldn't wonder if they're wishing they hadn't been in quite such a hurry. Now, my boy, bed: neither you nor I will need any rocking to-night. It's barely eight o'clock: we ought to get a good twelve hours, and I can do with it all."They felt a strange pang as they passed through their uncle's room. It was the first time they had entered it since the fatal morning when they set out so cheerfully with him in pursuit of Nurla Bai. Neither spoke of him; his loss touched them now with a poignancy of feeling that would not endure expression. Bob closed the door quietly, as if a sleeper lay within; and both undressed in silence.CHAPTER THE SEVENTEENTHA CRY IN THE NIGHT"What say you, friend?--how will this matter end?"Chunda Beg seated himself on the wall, against which the havildar was leaning, peering out into the darkness. His rifle lay across his arms."Hai, Chunda, is that you?" replied Gur Buksh, in a low tone. "I thought you were snoring on your charpoy. 'Tis a chill night.""I slept indeed a little--forty winks, as the sahibs say; then I rose and came out to seek wisdom of thee, O experienced one. How will this matter end, I ask?""Who can tell!" said the havildar with a shrug. "The gods know; I know not.""You do not know; of course I did not suppose you a soothsayer, a man of double sight, though there are such; I have seen them, and heard them foretell things that most certainly came to pass. But they were fakirs, haggard of cheek and eye, and dirty--mashallah! how dirty! What I meant, friend, was that you, being a man of war, and wise in many things, should enlighten my simplicity, and say what is the blossom and fruit of your meditations on these strange happenings."Gur Buksh did not turn his head, but gazed steadily out across the stream. On each side one of his men was patrolling the wall; the rest of the Sikhs were sleeping under blankets on the ground a few yards away, ready to spring up at a whisper."The Bengali says we shall all be cut into little pieces," Chunda Beg went on. "He will make good carving, being very plump.""The Bengali is the son and grandson of asses," grunted Gur Buksh. "He reads books!""The sahibs read books too," suggested the khansaman."That is different. They read the wisdom of their own people; the Bengali reads, and imagines he becomes one of them, and talks foolishness.""That is true. Yet in this case perhaps it is not foolishness. There are many hungry beasts lurking down the track yonder.""Hyenas!""Twenty thousand of them, says Fazl.""Flat-nosed Kafirs; what are they to us?""That is true; they are of very little account. Still, there is a great number of them, and--correct me if I am wrong, havildar--a hundred hyenas are perhaps a match for one lion.""Look you, khansaman, we have to make every man here believe that he is a lion. I do not deny that we are in a strait place, but what is that? I have been in strait places before. Hai! was I not one of the thirty with a young sahib in the hills, and did we not defend a post against a monstrous rabble of Khels, and drive them off, and strike such fear into the dogs that they slunk away and troubled us no more?"The havildar's eyes gleamed as he recalled that fight."And are our young sahibs even as that one?" said the khansaman. "The huzur--may he sleep well!--was a good man, but these two striplings are very young.""Hai! but they have red blood in their veins. They are of the race of the Sirkar: they will never yield. Think you of what they have done in these last days. Are they not quick and ready? Are not their eyes keen and their minds swift? They fear nothing, and overlook nothing. Fyz Ali told me how the chota sahib rode back to help him when he was alone and beset by the Kalmucks, and the chota sahib is no man of war. Of a truth, the sahibs know not what fear is. And Bob Sahib carried food to the Pathans up the river; he thinks of their welfare, and they love him. What is to come we know not, but be sure there will be very great doings here.""Hark, havildar! What is that?"Chunda Beg sprang off the wall, and bent over it with the havildar, straining his eyes into the darkness. A faint cry reached them from the other side of the ravine. They listened in silence, waiting for a repetition of the sound. In a few seconds they heard it again."A trick of the Kalmucks maybe!" murmured Gur Buksh. "Get you swiftly to the house, khansaman, and rouse the sahib. Say nothing but that I wish to speak with him."The khansaman hurried away. Passing noiselessly into the boys' bedroom, he touched Bob on the shoulder and gave his message. Bob was awake in an instant."Tell him I'm coming," he said.He slipped on his dressing-gown and boots quietly, so as not to disturb Lawrence, and followed the man across the compound. As he reached the havildar's side, the cry was repeated again."What are the sahib's orders?" said Gur Buksh."Did you hear what he said?" asked Bob."No, sahib; it was like the cry of a man for help.""Are the Kalmucks playing a trick on us? Have you heard anything of them?""Nothing, sahib.""Let down the bridge. We had better see.""The sahib will without doubt take lamps?""Yes, and your men."The Sikhs had already been awakened. In a few minutes four of them accompanied Bob across the bridge, the first carrying a candle lamp.The far side of the bridge rested on a platform constructed on a rock in mid-stream. The rock was connected with the farther bank by a short bridge supported on timbers and resembling a rough wooden jetty. Gur Buksh had said that the cry seemed to have come from the end of the bridge, and Bob searched for some time up and down the track for a few yards in each direction, listening again for the sound. It was not repeated. He proceeded to range the space once occupied by the Pathans' huts, but made no discovery. Puzzled, and still half suspecting that the cry had been a ruse to decoy him from the mine, he returned to the bridge, and was about to cross, when the man who held the lamp uttered a sudden exclamation."Behold, sahib; here he is!"He pointed to a man lying across one of the girders sustaining the platform. Only his head could be seen. Bob knelt down and stooped over, asking the Sikh to lower the lamp. He saw a bearded, turbaned man in uniform, with arms and legs twined about the girder."He is unconscious," he said. "Lift him up and bring him into the compound."The Sikhs had some difficulty in raising the man, who, in spite of his unconsciousness, clung tenaciously to the beam. But they got him up at last, and carried him across the bridge and up to the house. Bob waited to see the bridge lowered again, then hurried back."Cold water, khansaman," he said as he entered.The man brought a mug of water, which he set down on the table. Bob wondered why he did not himself hold it to the stranger's lips, until he guessed that caste was probably the obstacle. He himself gave the man drink, and looked at him with curiosity, which became recognition as he opened his eyes. It was Ganda Singh, the dafadar of the sowars who had accompanied Major Endicott on his mission months before."Salaam, sahib," said the man faintly, when he saw that Bob had recognized him."Feel better now?" said Bob.Ganda Singh had closed his eyes again. Bob noticed that he was very pale and haggard, as one exhausted after a long march."Just get one of the Sikhs to prepare him some food, khansaman," he said. "I suppose you won't do it yourself?""He is a Sikh, sahib.""Well, cut away to one of his own race, then. He's fit for nothing at present."He considered whether he should wake Lawrence, but decided to let him sleep on until the man was able to explain his presence. He himself was absolutely unconscious of any feeling of fatigue. Ganda Singh's surprising appearance filled him with overmastering excitement.Reviving after some hot lentil soup had been poured between his lips, the dafadar raised himself slightly from the couch on which he had been laid. Bob noticed a twinge of pain as he moved his arm."Wounded?" he said."A shot in the shoulder, sahib--very little.""As you came down the track?""No, sahib; before."He fumbled in his belt, and produced a small piece of paper, folded. This he handed to Bob, who opened it, and read, scrawled on a leaf torn from a pocket-book, the following lines--"Get back to India at once. Whole country ablaze.--H. Endicott.""Where is Endicott Sahib?" he asked quickly."In the hills towards the Afghan country, sahib.""Near where we left him? He has not been there all this time?""No, sahib; Endicott Sahib went back to Rawal Pindi, and came again.""And he is well?""In body, sahib, wherein I rejoice; but very sick in mind.""Tell me all about it; slowly, don't distress yourself. Here, let me strip off your coat, gently, and see what's wrong. Wait a little, though; I must fetch Lawrence Sahib."Loth as he was to disturb his brother's rest, he felt instinctively that the news brought by Ganda Singh was to affect their destinies vitally."Wake up, old chap," he said to Lawrence, prodding him. "Slip on your dressing-gown and come into the dining-room.""Are they attacking?" asked Lawrence sleepily."No. Major Endicott has sent Ganda Singh with a message, telling us to clear out. I'm afraid things are looking very serious. Come on!"Lawrence waited only to plunge his head into a basin of cold water, then followed his brother into the dining-room."Salaam, sahib," said Ganda Singh with a smile of friendliness. Like everybody else he had a warm feeling towards the chota sahib."Now, dafadar, tell us all about it; take your time."He bathed and bound up the wounded arm while Ganda Singh talked.The story told by him filled the boys' cup of anxiety and dismay. He related how Major Endicott, after pacifying the unruly tribe to which Nagdu belonged, had returned slowly to headquarters, visiting on the way several other tribes within his allotted portion of the borderlands. But he had soon been called away again by news of another outbreak, among the very people whom he had just reduced to quietness. Once more he set off, attended as before by his official escort of twelve troopers. This time he had woefully failed to repress their turbulence, which, indeed, swelled into active hostility. One day, attacked by overwhelming numbers, he had been forced to flee for his life. Before the little party got away, it had lost several in killed and wounded, and the Major, refusing to leave the wounded to the tender mercies of the enemy, had lost his chance of making good his escape. He was headed off, and galloped for refuge to a half-ruined hill-tower some little distance west of his route, where he had been since besieged by the tribesmen.On the second day of the investment he had scribbled the chit in his pocket-book, torn out the leaf, and given it to the dafadar with orders to leave the tower by night and make all speed to Mr. Appleton's mine. Ganda Singh had crept out and stolen away to the rear, but his movements were detected, and he had run the gauntlet of a fusillade. One shot had taken effect, but the wound was slight, and he had pressed on, eluded the enemy's pickets, and after a long round gained the road that led ultimately to the mine. He had carried very little food with him, and was almost exhausted, rather by fatigue than by loss of blood, when, about two miles from the mine, he stumbled upon a small bivouac of ten or a dozen men. Luckily he had heard their horses stamping and champing their bits while still at some distance from them, and was careful to approach them warily. Having no means of telling whether they were friends or foes, he decided to slip past them quietly in the darkness. He could barely drag himself over the last mile, and on reaching the platform, being thoroughly worn out, he stumbled, and only saved himself from falling into the river by clutching at the girder as he fell."How long have you been marching?" asked Bob."Three days, sahib.""And how far have you come?""Thirty kos,[#] sahib. It was bad marching, but I came as fast as I could."[#] About forty-five miles."It was good of Endicott Sahib to send you, but why? We are far away from the disturbances on the Afghan border.""Ah yes, sahib, but there is talk of great doings towards the north-west. They say in the bazaars that the Mongols have made friends with the Afghans, and offered to share the plunder with them when they make their raid into the Punjab. It is foolishness, as Endicott Sahib said: but the badmashes will do much evil, and the sahib said that Appleton Sahib ought to know, so that he might escape to India while there is yet time.""And what about the sahib himself? He will break through, of course?""Hai! The sahib will not leave the wounded.""He can hold out?""Who shall say? The sahib has little food, and the water of the well in the tower is foul. The sahib will assuredly fight as long as he has one cartridge left in his revolver; then.... It is written, sahib; but the huzurs know how to die.""Good heavens!" ejaculated Lawrence. "Can't he send for help?""The nearest post is a hundred miles away, sahib. There would not be time. In one day more, or perhaps two, all the food will be gone. No help could come to him for a week--no force strong enough to drive away the dogs that beset him.""Why did he think we could escape, then?""Because the road is still open, sahib. The tribes are not yet moving towards the frontier, and the hill-tower is far to the west of the road. If the sahibs start at once there is just a chance that they may save themselves--as one leaves a house before the flood comes up and washes it away."The boys felt overwhelmed by this climax to their embarrassments. There was no certainty that they could reach the nearest British post before the tide of invasion had begun to flow. The way might already be blocked by hordes of tribesmen gathering strength for their swoop upon the Punjab--an adventure which, utterly absurd as it seemed, and foredoomed to disaster, would work havoc on the frontier until it was crushed by the might of the Imperial power. They saw themselves shut up as in a trap between the 20,000 men on the north, and the innumerable host which the scent of plunder would attract to the Afghans' banner."We shall have to stick it now, in any case," said Bob to Lawrence. "Khansaman, take Ganda Singh to Gur Buksh: he will find him quarters. Then go to bed. I will ring for you if I want you."When the two men were gone, Bob threw himself into a chair."Light up," he said. "There'll be no more sleep for us to-night.""What a brick the Major is!" said Lawrence. "Poor old chap! He won't cave in without giving those blackguards something to remember, but if things are as bad as Ganda Singh says it's all up with him. Nothing on earth will induce him to leave his men, or he might make a bolt for it. I wonder if it was too late for him to send for help?""There's not much doubt of it. A man couldn't get away quietly enough on horseback with the tower surrounded, and it would take him four or five days to foot it. Then they'd have to get together an expeditionary force, and if they've got wind of what's on, they would hesitate to send out a small light-marching force that might be smothered. These political officers are always taking their lives in their hands. The Major's a good sort. I wish to goodness something could be done for him.""I say! I've a notion. What about the aeroplane?""How do you mean?""Fly to help him. A few of those bombs of yours would work wonders.""That's all very well, I dare say a little dynamite would set the besiegers flying in panic; but to bring the Major away is quite another matter. He's in a hill-tower, and if it's like those we saw occasionally as we came north it'll be perched in the worst possible place for the machine to alight.""We can find that out from Ganda Singh.""But there's another thing. Suppose it is possible to come down, will there be time to get the Major out and take him on board before the enemy come back? Their panic won't last long when they find they can only be hit from the air.""It will take some time to discover that, but I foresee the worst difficulty. That's the sowars. As I said, he won't leave them, especially as some are wounded. And the biggest cowards in creation--and the Afghans are not cowards--would recover their courage and their wits long before you could fly to and fro with the sowars as passengers.""And they'd smash the machine too. It would be an easy target most of the time. I'm afraid it's no go."They smoked on in silence, gloomily watching the rings and clouds eddying out into the dark through the open window."Look here!" exclaimed Bob suddenly."I say!" cried Lawrence at the same moment."I'm going to try it," Bob continued."That's what I was going to say.""But----""Hold hard! Just listen while I put the case with my usual sweet reasonableness. You're about fed up with patrolling the valley, I should think.""But----""Let me have my say out: your turn by and by. You're a soldier; I'm not. You're the chap to defend this place, and, as you said, we've got to defend it now. You've a head for strategy and all that sort of thing: I'm a fool at it. If one of us has got to go, I can be best spared.""You're talking perfect----""I know, but I haven't done yet. I haven't had quite as much practice in the aeroplane as you, but I've had quite enough for this job. And as for shying dynamite bombs, any ass could do that.""I back you wouldn't find it easy to hit a mark," Bob got in."Perhaps not, but when the mark is a crowd of three or four hundred Afghans I ought to be kicked if I couldn't score at least an outer. Seriously, old man, this is my job. I'm not such a fool as to think it'll be pure fun; it's a desperately tough proposition, as the Yanks say; and of course you'd do it better than I could; but we can't both go, and I'm sure you're the right man to stay here. Now have your fling.""Well, you've put me in a hole with your beastly logic," grumbled Bob. "I can't admit you're right without sort of making myself out to be a sprouting commander-in-chief! My word! It would be a fine thing to get the Major here! He'd take command, and I'd play second fiddle with the greatest pleasure in life. All right: you go, then.""Thanks, old man. Just ring for Chunda, will you? I must have a talk with Ganda Singh.""You'll do nothing of the sort. You'll go straight back to bed. You'll want all your nerve to-morrow, and after what you've gone through you'll be a limp rag in the morning unless you sleep. Go to bed. I'll arrange everything. You'll find everything ready for you in the morning. I think you had better take Fazl with you: in fact, you must, for you'll have quite enough to do with managing the machine without dropping bombs. Cut off!""All right. There's only one thing.""What's that?""I hope to goodness the wind won't be blowing a hurricane in the morning."CHAPTER THE EIGHTEENTHTHE TOWER IN THE HILLSThere was between four and five hours for making the necessary arrangements. Bob soon had different sets of men working at different jobs. Some he ordered to prepare baskets of food and to fill several water-skins--the want of good water was perhaps Major Endicott's greatest peril. Others he instructed to fill more tins with stones and caps, in readiness for the final charge of dynamite, which he would himself place. While all this was in hand, he had a long talk with Gur Buksh and Ganda Singh, who turned out to be old comrades in arms. They both agreed that if the chota sahib should succeed in dispersing the tribesmen now besieging the tower, and in conveying food and water to the defenders, Endicott Sahib might be trusted to extricate himself and his men from their awkward position. That the dispersal was possible Bob had never doubted; no body of men could hold together under the staggering effect of bombs exploding in their midst. And after his talk with the Sikhs he felt reassured as to the further success of the scheme. Major Endicott was a cool-headed veteran, who would take things into his own hands on Lawrence's arrival, so that the plan would not miscarry through Lawrence's lack of military experience.On leaving the Sikhs, Bob went along the pathway to the aeroplane platform. He could not trust any one but himself to prepare the machine for the morrow's flight. He spent a couple of hours in thoroughly overhauling it: cleaning the engine, examining every inch of the framework and the stays, oiling all the moving parts. Satisfied that all was in good order, he returned to the house. At this hour it was hardly worth while to go to bed, so he bathed, shaved, and dressed, and then sent for Fazl, to give him instructions.Lawrence joined him at dawn. They went together to the hut where Ganda Singh lay, and the wounded man, refreshed with food and sleep, was able to explain more clearly now the whereabouts of Major Endicott and the operations of his besiegers."You'll tell him, of course, how we are situated here," said Bob, as they walked away together. "All being well I shall expect to see him in two or three days. You'll fly back in advance and tell me?""I dare say, but I shan't come until I see him safe on the march. I only hope I shan't be too late.""I don't think you will be. I gather from what Ganda Singh said that starvation is the greatest danger, but they've got their horses in the last resort. There's no wind luckily; you couldn't have a finer day. By the way, keep a look-out for the Kalmucks who got by last night. Don't drop within range of them."Rumours of what was afoot had run round the camp. Miners and servants were gathering in the compound to witness the departure of the aeroplane. As the boys walked towards the pathway Ditta Lal joined them. He wore his wonted air of cheerfulness."On behalf of establishment, sir, I bid you good luck and au revoir," he said. "Clouds have silver lining, sir. If report is true, we shall soon have felicity to see famous warrior in person; with due respect, and no derogation to present company, full-fledged British officer, when he takes command, will put rosy complexion on deplorable situation.""Paint everything red, you mean?" said Bob gravely."Ruddy hue of health, sir," said the Babu, missing the point. "Representative of august king-emperor, British flag, standard of freedom and all that----""Good-bye," said Lawrence, cutting him short. "Don't trouble to come any farther."Bob went with him to the aeroplane platform."Good luck, old chap," he said, gripping Lawrence hard by the hand. He waited until the aeroplane had run off and soared out of sight, then returned in mingled hope and fear to the mine.About a dozen miles up the valley Fazl caught sight of a number of men scuttling to cover among the rocks above the track. There was little doubt that these were the Kalmucks, who, finding themselves effectually cut off from their friends to the north, were probably hastening southward in search of provisions. Except for a few wild animals, the neighbourhood of the valley furnished no means of subsistence. There was a small hill-village about thirty miles from the mine, lying back some distance from the right bank. Perhaps the Kalmucks might find hospitality there.Lawrence hoped that in the course of forty minutes he would come in sight of the hill-tower in which Major Endicott was besieged. From Ganda Singh's description he thought it must be identical with a tower which he had seen in the distance on one of his early trips with Bob up the river. It was a conspicuous object in the hilly landscape, and he had no fear of missing it, considering the immense expanse of country which lay open to observation from the aeroplane.In spite of the particulars given by Ganda Singh, Lawrence felt that in approaching the tower his first care must be to reconnoitre the position thoroughly. Everything depended on his finding a convenient spot for landing, and this might be very difficult in such hilly country. The appearance of the aeroplane would of course put the enemy on their guard; but they would not know what to expect, and would probably be rather alarmed and mystified than informed. At the same time it would be a herald of hope to Major Endicott, and prepare him to take instant advantage of any diversion which it might effect in his favour.When Lawrence had been flying for about twenty minutes he became somewhat uneasy at a sudden freshening of the wind, which blew in uncertain gusts from the mountains on his right. Since passing the Kalmucks he had kept fairly close to the river, but when the machine began to rock under these invisible eddies he thought it the safer course to rise to a considerable height. The morning air was so exhilarating, and the view of endless snow-capped heights and pine-clad ravines so superb, that only the intense cold, of which he was now conscious in spite of the summer sun, checked his ascension. On the left stretched the Pamirs, backed by peak after peak of some of the loftiest and most majestic mountains in the world. In front and on the right the Himalaya range merged into the Hindu Kush. Huge masses of cloud rolled up and down the rugged faces of the mountains, causing moment by moment wonderful changes in their aspect. Some of the peaks seemed to have covered themselves with an umbrella of fleecy billowy wool as a shield against the kindling sunbeams.The enormous scale of this panorama defied perspective and gave a false idea of distance. Lawrence knew that peaks which, clearly limned against the sky, might be thought to be ten or fifteen miles away, were in reality more than a hundred. But for the urgency of his mission, he felt that he would have liked to sail on and on in this empyrean height, exploring regions never trodden by the foot of man.All the time, Fazl kept a keen eye on the track and the river, winding along hundreds, even thousands, of feet below. The hill-tower lay somewhat to the west of the road which the Appletons had travelled with Major Endicott several months before, and from this road the track leading to the mine branched. The Gurkha knew the country pretty well. Fast as the aeroplane flew, he distinguished without hesitation the junction of the roads, and at his word Lawrence altered his course and, leaving the valley, steered over the hills on his right hand.Very soon Fazl was able to descry the hill-tower in the far distance. The aeroplane was flying at the rate of at least a mile a minute; but minute after minute passed, and yet the tower seemed little nearer. When at last Lawrence had come close enough to it to be able to distinguish its general features, he saw that it was a single square-built tower of the usual Afghan type, perched on a small hill that rose sharply from the surrounding country. The side nearest him overhung an almost perpendicular declivity. Though solidly constructed in appearance, it was little more than a ruin. The top had partially fallen away, and in the wall facing him there was a long jagged fissure.While still at some distance, Lawrence heard rifle-shots, though neither he nor Fazl could as yet see any signs of the enemy. He felt his heart thumping. He was still in time, then; for if all was over the firing would have ceased. Planing down in a long glide, he passed over the tower, still at a considerable altitude, and then suddenly caught sight of an encampment in a nullah on the farther side. In the brief moment of his crossing he was not able to get more than a glimpse of it; the nullah was so deep, and the encampment encompassed so closely by shrubs, dwarf pines, and other trees, that he might have missed it altogether but for a thin column of smoke arising from a fire in the bottom. But his rapid glance was enough for reassurance; the camp would have been struck if the tower was captured; it was clear that the Major was still holding out.Dropping still lower, he began to sweep round in a circle. Before he reached the nullah again Fazl pointed out to him a number of isolated dots on the rugged surface below, spread over an extensive patch of ground. Some were small, others larger, and as he flew by Fazl explained that they were groups of the enemy, who had posted themselves wherever the nature of the ground gave them cover from the fire of the occupants of the tower. They were disposed in a rough semicircle about the western wall, in which there was a door. The approach on this side was by a steep slope; on the other side the tower was apparently inaccessible.Between the wall and this semicircle of besiegers were scattered at irregular intervals a number of dark forms."Dead!" ejaculated Fazl.They were evidently the bodies of men who had fallen in attempting to rush the place. Ganda Singh had mentioned that on the day he left the Afghans had made a vigorous assault, but were beaten back with heavy loss.Bringing the aeroplane round so as to pass again over the encampment, Lawrence noticed a number of horses picketed near the rough huts. The Gurkha cried excitedly that the animals were kicking and straining at their ropes, and men were rushing to hold them. The noise of the engine had thrown them into a state of blind terror. Two or three broke away, and galloped madly up the nullah.Several shots were fired at the aeroplane. Lawrence was somewhat surprised that the men were not struck with panic, like their horses, at the appearance of this strange booming monster of the air. It did not occur to him until afterwards that rumours of it must have been carried far and wide through the country for months past. Men who had seen it in its flights had described it to their neighbours or to wanderers whom they met in the hills; and although few, perhaps, of these tribesmen now present had actually seen it before, doubtless many of them had heard more or less veracious accounts of it. The frantic terror of the ponies suggested to Lawrence an idea on which he acted immediately. He abandoned his original purpose of making a preliminary reconnaissance of the whole position and then retiring to a distance to work out a plan. To a mounted force there is nothing so demoralizing as the loss of their horses. Lawrence knew this, and in a flash saw also that the Major, if he should escape from the tower, would have little to fear from an enemy pursuing on foot. He resolved therefore to attempt to stampede all the horses, and take advantage of the resulting confusion.By the time he had come to this determination he was some distance past the nullah. Telling Fazl to drop a bomb among the horses when he again crossed it, he rose rapidly to a height of about a thousand feet, wheeled round, and swooped down in a long incline towards the camp. He scarcely realized that he was taking his life in his hands as he flew almost within point-blank range. Nor had he calculated on the possible effect of the coming explosion on the aeroplane. When he arrested his downward flight he was so near the ground that the bursting of the bomb set the machine rocking violently, and for a few moments he could scarcely control it. Cool-headed marksmen could then have taken fatal aim at him; but the Afghans were fascinated and paralysed by his headlong descent, and while they were still wondering and dreading what it might portend, the explosion of the bomb within a few yards of them struck them with terror.Lawrence swept round to observe the effect of this bolt from the blue. A great troop of horses was galloping wildly along the nullah to the west. He caught sight of their forms, black, brown and grey, wherever there were breaks among the trees. Farther up the nullah, where the sides were less steep, the frantic animals were dashing across the country in all directions. Beneath, a few lay motionless on the ground. Loth as he was to destroy or maim the unoffending beasts, he felt that this was not an occasion for half measures: there was too much at stake. In their panic flight it was inevitable that many of the horses must dash themselves to pieces in the ravines and fissures with which the country was seamed. To prevent the rallying of the rest, he set off in pursuit. Sweeping the ground like a shepherd's dog after a flock of sheep, he flew backwards and forwards and from side to side at the heels of the terrified animals. No more bombs were necessary. The whirr of the propeller behind them drove them on at the same mad rush, and in a quarter of an hour there was not a living horse within several miles of the encampment.On returning towards the tower, Lawrence was surprised to see that the groups of Afghans had disappeared from around it. But as he crossed the nullah there were bursts of smoke from among the trees and the undergrowth, and above the hum of the propeller he heard the characteristic whistle of bullets. Later he discovered that several holes had been drilled in the planes. The firing ceased as suddenly as it had begun. Crossing the nullah almost at right angles, the aeroplane was visible for only a few seconds to the men hidden in the bottom.From an embrasure high up in the tower a white handkerchief was fluttering in the breeze. Lawrence wished that he had some means of communicating instantly with the Major; but the attack from which he had just escaped proved that he could not venture to alight, nor could he be of any further service to the little garrison until the nullah had been cleared. It was necessary to drive the men up the ravine in the same direction as he had already driven the horses. There might be more difficulty in this, for the enemy were completely concealed by the trees and undergrowth, so that he could not tell exactly where they were. The only plan that promised complete success was to fly some distance down the ravine, and then work up it, dropping bombs when he approached the spot where the firing had broken out.In a few brief sentences he explained his purpose to Fazl. Making a wide sweep he came back to the nullah half a mile to the east; then, reducing speed to the minimum, but keeping at a good altitude, he followed the winding course of the gully. The enemy played into his hands. Another burst of smoke revealed their whereabouts. Fazl instantly dropped a bomb, and turning to watch the effect, cried out that a dense cloud of smoke and dust had arisen from the scene of the explosion. Lawrence wheeled round again, described a wide semicircle, passing immediately above the tower, and, regaining the nullah, repeated the manoeuvre.This time Fazl reported that he saw men among the trees, running up the ravine. The enemy could scarcely have chosen a less secure shelter. The explosion of a bomb in so constricted a space must be many times more destructive than in the open. But Lawrence had no inclination towards needless slaughter. His object would be achieved if he drove the men away as he had driven the horses. Knowing that they were on the run, he dropped another bomb to speed their flight; then swept round again, and pursued the same tactics as had already proved so effectual. When the enemy reached the less wooded part of the nullah, he found it easy to hover about their rear, and, without the further use of bombs, to impel them to the most desperate exertions by the mere harrying pursuit of the aeroplane.He was not content until he had driven them many miles up the nullah. Whenever they showed a disposition to break away into the open country to right or left, a swoop of the aeroplane in that direction was sufficient to send them scurrying back. In their haste and panic they did not halt to fire again, and Lawrence was at length satisfied that even if they should recover their nerve and courage, they were too far away to trouble the garrison of the tower for at least a couple of hours.On nearing the tower, he saw that several figures had emerged from the door at the foot. He glided down to within a few yards of it, and shouted a greeting to Major Endicott, who waved his hand in response. Then he sought for a landing-place. The ground in the immediate vicinity was too broken to allow of a safe descent; but after circling round once or twice, he discovered a space sufficiently flat and open for his purpose about a quarter of a mile away. Alighting there, he left the aeroplane in Fazl's charge, and, feeling very shaky on his legs after the exhausting and nervous work of the past two hours, he walked back to meet the British officer.
CHAPTER THE SIXTEENTH
NO THOROUGHFARE
"We seem to have lived an age during the last two days," said Bob on greeting Lawrence again in the dining-room. "'One crowded hour of glorious life,' begad! But why aren't you asleep, young man?"
"I can hardly keep my eyes open, but I shan't sleep till I know where we are. What did your flag mean?"
"Of course, you don't know. It seems stale news to me. There's a whole army corps encamped ten miles beyond the bridge--twenty thousand men at a guess, with field-guns, all complete. I saw hundreds of transport-wagons rolling up, camel caravans too. It's a big thing."
"But what's the game? They don't need an army corps to bag this mine."
"Hanged if I know. It seems clear they intend to march up the valley; it was probably an advanced outpost that we came into conflict with. So far as I know the valley leads only to Afghanistan and--India."
"Those Mongols we have heard about, then, are going to have a slap at Afghanistan?"
"Or India!"
"That's tosh. Twenty thousand men are no good for invading India, and they wouldn't come this way in any case."
"That's just what I said to myself. Of course Afghanistan is much nearer, and they might catch the Amir napping by choosing this unusual road. But after all, what concerns us is our position here."
"Yes. What have you been doing all day?"
"Flying up and down like a swallow--or wasn't it an eagle that dropped something on a Johnny's bald skull--in the classics. I haven't done that exactly, but I've had a little practice in bomb dropping."
He related the manoeuvres by which he had checked the pursuit of the Pathans and driven the Kalmucks down-stream, and the subsequent adventurous flight of Nurla Bai.
"Would you have let them shoot at him?" he asked. "The Babu was mad with me."
"I don't think I would. It wouldn't be cricket, do you think? The Babu wouldn't learn that sort of thing at Calcutta University!"
"Have you had any trouble?"
"Quite enough, I can assure you. In the small hours they tried to cross at the bridge, some of them floating themselves on water-skins. We beat them off at the cost of a few knocks. But some must have got past us over the hills--a mighty big round. We met a crowd of them on foot. Luckily it was all very sudden, and a charge scattered them. We lost one man, but we polished off a lot of them; the Pathans are perfect demons at fighting."
"Well done, old chap! Charging was the very thing. These beggars can't face it. I remember that in the Mutiny our men never charged without success. But what about the future? We've two courses open: to pack up and cut our sticks before the Mongols arrive, or to hang on and make the best defence we can. Candidly, I don't see how we can hold the place with our little lot against such a host."
"What about Thermopylae and Leonidas?"
"Yes, but Xerxes hadn't any artillery. Besides, if I'm not mistaken, Leonidas and his three hundred were cut up, to a man."
"Only because a traitor showed the Persians a way round to their rear. Still, you know best."
"I'll send for old Gur Buksh. He's seen a lot of service, and has a cool head. We're better placed than Leonidas in one respect: traitor or no traitor, we can't be got at from the rear."
When the havildar arrived, Bob put the position to him exactly, omitting no detail, and glossing over none of the difficulties.
"Now, havildar," he said in conclusion, "shall we run, or shall we fight? We ought to have plenty of time to get away. The enemy can't advance in force until they have repaired the bridge, and they'll have to do that thoroughly if they wish to bring their artillery across. It will take them at least a day, probably longer. We can reckon on twenty-four hours' start."
The havildar, a fine soldierly figure, stood in silence before the two lads, pondering deeply.
"The men are very weary, sahib," he said at length. "They could not start before morning. There are not horses for all: the march would be slow, and the journey would be long. We should not be safe for a hundred miles, and if the enemy is so numerous, they would pursue us not only along the track, but over the hills, and outstrip us, and we should not escape."
"And what if we remain here?"
"Who can tell? If we die, we die. But we are safer here, sahib. The enemy cannot haul their guns up the heights opposite. The gorge is narrow; with our gun and our rifles we could prevent them from passing the bend northward--so long as our ammunition lasts."
"And how long will that be? And what provisions have we?"
"There are plenty of cartridges, sahib, and we have those the Kalmucks left behind in their huts. Our provisions would have lasted three weeks for us all; now that the Kalmucks are gone, they will last longer."
"I say, Bob," said Lawrence, "why not block up the track? With a good charge of dynamite we could bring down tons of rock on it, and though that wouldn't block the way for ever against twenty thousand men, it would give them a few days' work to clear it."
"The chota sahib speaks words of wisdom," said Gur Buksh. "The track is narrow where it bends a little to the north--that is the place to do what the sahib says."
"A jolly good notion," said Bob. "We'll set about it to-morrow. Also, havildar, we will strengthen the wall. You have already, I see, lined it with bags of earth, as I ordered. You must throw up behind them a mound of the tailings from the mine. Cover that with earth, and beat it down hard, and we shall have a triple fortification. It won't be very scientific, Lawrie, but it ought to be of some use. Can you think of anything else, havildar?"
"That is all, sahib. Has the sahib told the Pathans what he has told me?"
"Oh yes. The men who were chased by the Kalmucks intended to go home, but I told them everything, and I'm sure they will stick to us. You have arranged the sentries for the night?"
"That is done, sahib."
"Then we'll get to bed, Lawrie. We both want a good sound sleep. Wake us if anything happens, havildar."
But Gur Buksh had not been gone five minutes, and Bob had not yet taken off his boots, when he was struck with a sudden uneasiness.
"I say, Lawrie," he exclaimed, "what if the beggars came up during the night? We couldn't use either the machine-gun or our rifles with any effect in the darkness, and they might easily slip past; not without some loss, of course, but not enough to stagger them."
"But you said yourself just now that it would take them a whole day to repair the bridge. They couldn't get here before morning."
"It would certainly take them a day or longer to make the bridge strong enough to bear their artillery. But we've only the advanced guard to deal with, not the main army, and in two or three hours they could rig up a bridge good enough for themselves and their ponies. They may be only a few hours' march away. I wish we had a searchlight. We could then light up the track at the bend yonder, and give them such a dose that they wouldn't try it again."
"Why not try a bonfire? Light a big one just on this side of the bend. That would give us enough light."
"A good idea! We'll do it, and to make perfectly sure, we'd better blast the rock at once, and not leave it till the morning. I'll see to it, however; you have a good sleep."
"Not a bit of it. I should fall asleep in two ticks if I had nothing to do, but I'm not going to leave you to bear the brunt of everything. We share and share alike."
"Thanks, old chap. You see to the dynamite and get a wire spliced for the current while I get the bonfire started."
[image]GUR BUKSH DEFENDS THE MINE
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[image]
GUR BUKSH DEFENDS THE MINE
In a few minutes a large fire was blazing on a ledge of rock a few feet south of the bend, and a number of Pathans were drilling holes in the cliff. An hour's work by experienced miners would suffice, Bob thought, to prepare for the charge of dynamite. Meanwhile, in the compound, under Lawrence's direction, other men were splicing together several lengths of the wire used for conveying the current from the small electric battery to the mine galleries. A number of boxes were broken up to provide fuel for the bonfire, which, however, it would be hardly necessary to keep alight when once the track had been blocked up by the fallen rocks.
These operations were all in progress when there was a sudden commotion among the men drilling the rock. After a moment's hesitation, they dropped their tools and scampered at the top of their speed towards the mine. They had barely crossed the bridge, and this had only been raised a few feet from its platform, when there came swiftly round the bend a string of horsemen, galloping two abreast. Gur Buksh was at his post by the machine-gun. In a few moments it was rattling its shot in a rapid stream towards the enemy, and at the same time the Sikhs opened fire with their rifles. A number of the enemy were seen to fall, either upon the track or over the brink into the river, and the horses of the men immediately behind them stumbled over the prone bodies and in one or two cases threw their riders. There were a few moments of confusion. The quiet of the night was broken by cries and groans and the rattle and hiss of shots. Then the stream of horsemen suddenly stopped. Shouts were heard from beyond the bend, but no more of the enemy appearing, Bob ordered his men to cease fire.
Everybody in the mine compound had been so intent on what was happening within the area illuminated by the bonfire that only Bob himself and one or two more had noticed that several of the enemy had got past the critical point before fire was opened. They were now in darkness, but the clatter of their horses' hoofs could be heard on the track just beyond the quarters lately occupied by the Pathans. At this sound Bob had much difficulty in preventing his men from blazing away at random at the cliff opposite. To allow it would be merely to waste ammunition, for the enemy were quite invisible; so he peremptorily ordered them to desist after two or three shots had been fired. When quietness was restored, he heard the horsemen retreating up the valley, and soon the sound of their movements died away.
"Lucky we didn't go to bed after all," said Bob to Lawrence. "Is that wire ready?"
"Yes, but the rock isn't drilled yet, is it?"
"We'll soon finish that. The track must be blocked at once, or we may have this going on all night."
He called the miners up, and ordered them to go back to their work.
"Mashallah, sahib, but it is not safe, we shall all be killed," one of them ventured to say.
"Nonsense. They won't come on again."
"But some have got past, sahib. They will come back and shoot us."
"They won't venture within the light of the bonfire, and if they do the Sikhs will shoot them down. Come on: I'll go with you. Give me the dynamite, Lawrence. Fazl, you take the end of the wire. Now then, a few minutes' more work, and we'll tumble a mountain of rock on to the track, and be able to sleep soundly for the rest of the night."
His confident bearing, and the example of his personal leadership, inspired the men with courage. The bridge was again lowered; Bob passed over with Fazl and the miners; Lawrence, Gur Buksh and the Sikhs posted themselves between the bridge head and the southern extremity of the compound to guard against any attack on the part of the men who had gone up the track. They could not number more than a dozen or so at the most, and Bob felt sure that after what had occurred they would not be very ready to approach the spot that had proved so fatal to their comrades.
He ordered the men to move very quietly. On reaching the place where they had flung down their tools, he bade them wait a little. From round the bend came the sound of voices, apparently some distance away. The enemy had not withdrawn altogether: would they have the courage to come on again? The machine-gun was no protection to the working-party, for it could not fire without great risk of hitting them. Bob sent one of the men back to fetch three of the Sikhs; their rifles might at any rate suffice to check a rush long enough for the miners to retreat to the bridge.
As soon as the Sikhs arrived, he ordered the men to resume their drilling, for which the bonfire gave sufficient light. The first sounds attracted the attention of the enemy. They raised their voices, and Bob, grasping his revolver, told the Sikhs to level their rifles and fire if he gave the word. All were concealed from the enemy by the shoulder of the cliff. The work went on without interference from the enemy beyond, but presently shots began to patter on the rocks from the rifles of those who had passed up the valley. The bonfire was now an inconvenience, and the danger was greater to Bob and the Sikhs, who stood erect, than to the miners stretched on the ground. But it was a risk that must be endured, and Bob spoke a cheery word to the men at his side, and urged the miners to hurry on with their work. Unknown to him, at the first shot Lawrence had led the other Sikhs across the bridge and posted them on the track, to repel the Kalmucks if they should venture nearer to get a better aim.
In a quarter of an hour the drilling was finished. Bob sent the miners back, and himself laid the charge of dynamite. Then he inserted the wire, and retreated with Fazl and the Sikhs.
"Good man!" he said to Lawrence when he reached the bridge. "It's all done. We've only to make the contact."
"Nobody hit?" asked Lawrence anxiously.
"Never a man. I think we'd have done better. Now let's get back. In five minutes we'll have a little earthquake."
They crossed into the compound, the bridge was raised, and Bob sent Fazl into the shed where the battery was kept, to complete the electric circuit. The firing had ceased. Nothing was to be heard but the rushing water. In a few minutes there was a dull, sullen rumble; the ground quivered, and immediately afterwards a terrific crash which echoed and re-echoed along the valley. The bonfire was suddenly obliterated as by an extinguisher.
"Another trick to us!" said Bob gleefully. "And now I think we can go to sleep with an easy mind. They won't get past till they've moved a thousand cartloads of rubbish."
"What about those fellows who got past?"
"We can leave Gur Buksh to deal with them. They can't get into the compound; if they did they'd never get out again. I shouldn't wonder if they're wishing they hadn't been in quite such a hurry. Now, my boy, bed: neither you nor I will need any rocking to-night. It's barely eight o'clock: we ought to get a good twelve hours, and I can do with it all."
They felt a strange pang as they passed through their uncle's room. It was the first time they had entered it since the fatal morning when they set out so cheerfully with him in pursuit of Nurla Bai. Neither spoke of him; his loss touched them now with a poignancy of feeling that would not endure expression. Bob closed the door quietly, as if a sleeper lay within; and both undressed in silence.
CHAPTER THE SEVENTEENTH
A CRY IN THE NIGHT
"What say you, friend?--how will this matter end?"
Chunda Beg seated himself on the wall, against which the havildar was leaning, peering out into the darkness. His rifle lay across his arms.
"Hai, Chunda, is that you?" replied Gur Buksh, in a low tone. "I thought you were snoring on your charpoy. 'Tis a chill night."
"I slept indeed a little--forty winks, as the sahibs say; then I rose and came out to seek wisdom of thee, O experienced one. How will this matter end, I ask?"
"Who can tell!" said the havildar with a shrug. "The gods know; I know not."
"You do not know; of course I did not suppose you a soothsayer, a man of double sight, though there are such; I have seen them, and heard them foretell things that most certainly came to pass. But they were fakirs, haggard of cheek and eye, and dirty--mashallah! how dirty! What I meant, friend, was that you, being a man of war, and wise in many things, should enlighten my simplicity, and say what is the blossom and fruit of your meditations on these strange happenings."
Gur Buksh did not turn his head, but gazed steadily out across the stream. On each side one of his men was patrolling the wall; the rest of the Sikhs were sleeping under blankets on the ground a few yards away, ready to spring up at a whisper.
"The Bengali says we shall all be cut into little pieces," Chunda Beg went on. "He will make good carving, being very plump."
"The Bengali is the son and grandson of asses," grunted Gur Buksh. "He reads books!"
"The sahibs read books too," suggested the khansaman.
"That is different. They read the wisdom of their own people; the Bengali reads, and imagines he becomes one of them, and talks foolishness."
"That is true. Yet in this case perhaps it is not foolishness. There are many hungry beasts lurking down the track yonder."
"Hyenas!"
"Twenty thousand of them, says Fazl."
"Flat-nosed Kafirs; what are they to us?"
"That is true; they are of very little account. Still, there is a great number of them, and--correct me if I am wrong, havildar--a hundred hyenas are perhaps a match for one lion."
"Look you, khansaman, we have to make every man here believe that he is a lion. I do not deny that we are in a strait place, but what is that? I have been in strait places before. Hai! was I not one of the thirty with a young sahib in the hills, and did we not defend a post against a monstrous rabble of Khels, and drive them off, and strike such fear into the dogs that they slunk away and troubled us no more?"
The havildar's eyes gleamed as he recalled that fight.
"And are our young sahibs even as that one?" said the khansaman. "The huzur--may he sleep well!--was a good man, but these two striplings are very young."
"Hai! but they have red blood in their veins. They are of the race of the Sirkar: they will never yield. Think you of what they have done in these last days. Are they not quick and ready? Are not their eyes keen and their minds swift? They fear nothing, and overlook nothing. Fyz Ali told me how the chota sahib rode back to help him when he was alone and beset by the Kalmucks, and the chota sahib is no man of war. Of a truth, the sahibs know not what fear is. And Bob Sahib carried food to the Pathans up the river; he thinks of their welfare, and they love him. What is to come we know not, but be sure there will be very great doings here."
"Hark, havildar! What is that?"
Chunda Beg sprang off the wall, and bent over it with the havildar, straining his eyes into the darkness. A faint cry reached them from the other side of the ravine. They listened in silence, waiting for a repetition of the sound. In a few seconds they heard it again.
"A trick of the Kalmucks maybe!" murmured Gur Buksh. "Get you swiftly to the house, khansaman, and rouse the sahib. Say nothing but that I wish to speak with him."
The khansaman hurried away. Passing noiselessly into the boys' bedroom, he touched Bob on the shoulder and gave his message. Bob was awake in an instant.
"Tell him I'm coming," he said.
He slipped on his dressing-gown and boots quietly, so as not to disturb Lawrence, and followed the man across the compound. As he reached the havildar's side, the cry was repeated again.
"What are the sahib's orders?" said Gur Buksh.
"Did you hear what he said?" asked Bob.
"No, sahib; it was like the cry of a man for help."
"Are the Kalmucks playing a trick on us? Have you heard anything of them?"
"Nothing, sahib."
"Let down the bridge. We had better see."
"The sahib will without doubt take lamps?"
"Yes, and your men."
The Sikhs had already been awakened. In a few minutes four of them accompanied Bob across the bridge, the first carrying a candle lamp.
The far side of the bridge rested on a platform constructed on a rock in mid-stream. The rock was connected with the farther bank by a short bridge supported on timbers and resembling a rough wooden jetty. Gur Buksh had said that the cry seemed to have come from the end of the bridge, and Bob searched for some time up and down the track for a few yards in each direction, listening again for the sound. It was not repeated. He proceeded to range the space once occupied by the Pathans' huts, but made no discovery. Puzzled, and still half suspecting that the cry had been a ruse to decoy him from the mine, he returned to the bridge, and was about to cross, when the man who held the lamp uttered a sudden exclamation.
"Behold, sahib; here he is!"
He pointed to a man lying across one of the girders sustaining the platform. Only his head could be seen. Bob knelt down and stooped over, asking the Sikh to lower the lamp. He saw a bearded, turbaned man in uniform, with arms and legs twined about the girder.
"He is unconscious," he said. "Lift him up and bring him into the compound."
The Sikhs had some difficulty in raising the man, who, in spite of his unconsciousness, clung tenaciously to the beam. But they got him up at last, and carried him across the bridge and up to the house. Bob waited to see the bridge lowered again, then hurried back.
"Cold water, khansaman," he said as he entered.
The man brought a mug of water, which he set down on the table. Bob wondered why he did not himself hold it to the stranger's lips, until he guessed that caste was probably the obstacle. He himself gave the man drink, and looked at him with curiosity, which became recognition as he opened his eyes. It was Ganda Singh, the dafadar of the sowars who had accompanied Major Endicott on his mission months before.
"Salaam, sahib," said the man faintly, when he saw that Bob had recognized him.
"Feel better now?" said Bob.
Ganda Singh had closed his eyes again. Bob noticed that he was very pale and haggard, as one exhausted after a long march.
"Just get one of the Sikhs to prepare him some food, khansaman," he said. "I suppose you won't do it yourself?"
"He is a Sikh, sahib."
"Well, cut away to one of his own race, then. He's fit for nothing at present."
He considered whether he should wake Lawrence, but decided to let him sleep on until the man was able to explain his presence. He himself was absolutely unconscious of any feeling of fatigue. Ganda Singh's surprising appearance filled him with overmastering excitement.
Reviving after some hot lentil soup had been poured between his lips, the dafadar raised himself slightly from the couch on which he had been laid. Bob noticed a twinge of pain as he moved his arm.
"Wounded?" he said.
"A shot in the shoulder, sahib--very little."
"As you came down the track?"
"No, sahib; before."
He fumbled in his belt, and produced a small piece of paper, folded. This he handed to Bob, who opened it, and read, scrawled on a leaf torn from a pocket-book, the following lines--
"Get back to India at once. Whole country ablaze.--H. Endicott."
"Where is Endicott Sahib?" he asked quickly.
"In the hills towards the Afghan country, sahib."
"Near where we left him? He has not been there all this time?"
"No, sahib; Endicott Sahib went back to Rawal Pindi, and came again."
"And he is well?"
"In body, sahib, wherein I rejoice; but very sick in mind."
"Tell me all about it; slowly, don't distress yourself. Here, let me strip off your coat, gently, and see what's wrong. Wait a little, though; I must fetch Lawrence Sahib."
Loth as he was to disturb his brother's rest, he felt instinctively that the news brought by Ganda Singh was to affect their destinies vitally.
"Wake up, old chap," he said to Lawrence, prodding him. "Slip on your dressing-gown and come into the dining-room."
"Are they attacking?" asked Lawrence sleepily.
"No. Major Endicott has sent Ganda Singh with a message, telling us to clear out. I'm afraid things are looking very serious. Come on!"
Lawrence waited only to plunge his head into a basin of cold water, then followed his brother into the dining-room.
"Salaam, sahib," said Ganda Singh with a smile of friendliness. Like everybody else he had a warm feeling towards the chota sahib.
"Now, dafadar, tell us all about it; take your time."
He bathed and bound up the wounded arm while Ganda Singh talked.
The story told by him filled the boys' cup of anxiety and dismay. He related how Major Endicott, after pacifying the unruly tribe to which Nagdu belonged, had returned slowly to headquarters, visiting on the way several other tribes within his allotted portion of the borderlands. But he had soon been called away again by news of another outbreak, among the very people whom he had just reduced to quietness. Once more he set off, attended as before by his official escort of twelve troopers. This time he had woefully failed to repress their turbulence, which, indeed, swelled into active hostility. One day, attacked by overwhelming numbers, he had been forced to flee for his life. Before the little party got away, it had lost several in killed and wounded, and the Major, refusing to leave the wounded to the tender mercies of the enemy, had lost his chance of making good his escape. He was headed off, and galloped for refuge to a half-ruined hill-tower some little distance west of his route, where he had been since besieged by the tribesmen.
On the second day of the investment he had scribbled the chit in his pocket-book, torn out the leaf, and given it to the dafadar with orders to leave the tower by night and make all speed to Mr. Appleton's mine. Ganda Singh had crept out and stolen away to the rear, but his movements were detected, and he had run the gauntlet of a fusillade. One shot had taken effect, but the wound was slight, and he had pressed on, eluded the enemy's pickets, and after a long round gained the road that led ultimately to the mine. He had carried very little food with him, and was almost exhausted, rather by fatigue than by loss of blood, when, about two miles from the mine, he stumbled upon a small bivouac of ten or a dozen men. Luckily he had heard their horses stamping and champing their bits while still at some distance from them, and was careful to approach them warily. Having no means of telling whether they were friends or foes, he decided to slip past them quietly in the darkness. He could barely drag himself over the last mile, and on reaching the platform, being thoroughly worn out, he stumbled, and only saved himself from falling into the river by clutching at the girder as he fell.
"How long have you been marching?" asked Bob.
"Three days, sahib."
"And how far have you come?"
"Thirty kos,[#] sahib. It was bad marching, but I came as fast as I could."
[#] About forty-five miles.
"It was good of Endicott Sahib to send you, but why? We are far away from the disturbances on the Afghan border."
"Ah yes, sahib, but there is talk of great doings towards the north-west. They say in the bazaars that the Mongols have made friends with the Afghans, and offered to share the plunder with them when they make their raid into the Punjab. It is foolishness, as Endicott Sahib said: but the badmashes will do much evil, and the sahib said that Appleton Sahib ought to know, so that he might escape to India while there is yet time."
"And what about the sahib himself? He will break through, of course?"
"Hai! The sahib will not leave the wounded."
"He can hold out?"
"Who shall say? The sahib has little food, and the water of the well in the tower is foul. The sahib will assuredly fight as long as he has one cartridge left in his revolver; then.... It is written, sahib; but the huzurs know how to die."
"Good heavens!" ejaculated Lawrence. "Can't he send for help?"
"The nearest post is a hundred miles away, sahib. There would not be time. In one day more, or perhaps two, all the food will be gone. No help could come to him for a week--no force strong enough to drive away the dogs that beset him."
"Why did he think we could escape, then?"
"Because the road is still open, sahib. The tribes are not yet moving towards the frontier, and the hill-tower is far to the west of the road. If the sahibs start at once there is just a chance that they may save themselves--as one leaves a house before the flood comes up and washes it away."
The boys felt overwhelmed by this climax to their embarrassments. There was no certainty that they could reach the nearest British post before the tide of invasion had begun to flow. The way might already be blocked by hordes of tribesmen gathering strength for their swoop upon the Punjab--an adventure which, utterly absurd as it seemed, and foredoomed to disaster, would work havoc on the frontier until it was crushed by the might of the Imperial power. They saw themselves shut up as in a trap between the 20,000 men on the north, and the innumerable host which the scent of plunder would attract to the Afghans' banner.
"We shall have to stick it now, in any case," said Bob to Lawrence. "Khansaman, take Ganda Singh to Gur Buksh: he will find him quarters. Then go to bed. I will ring for you if I want you."
When the two men were gone, Bob threw himself into a chair.
"Light up," he said. "There'll be no more sleep for us to-night."
"What a brick the Major is!" said Lawrence. "Poor old chap! He won't cave in without giving those blackguards something to remember, but if things are as bad as Ganda Singh says it's all up with him. Nothing on earth will induce him to leave his men, or he might make a bolt for it. I wonder if it was too late for him to send for help?"
"There's not much doubt of it. A man couldn't get away quietly enough on horseback with the tower surrounded, and it would take him four or five days to foot it. Then they'd have to get together an expeditionary force, and if they've got wind of what's on, they would hesitate to send out a small light-marching force that might be smothered. These political officers are always taking their lives in their hands. The Major's a good sort. I wish to goodness something could be done for him."
"I say! I've a notion. What about the aeroplane?"
"How do you mean?"
"Fly to help him. A few of those bombs of yours would work wonders."
"That's all very well, I dare say a little dynamite would set the besiegers flying in panic; but to bring the Major away is quite another matter. He's in a hill-tower, and if it's like those we saw occasionally as we came north it'll be perched in the worst possible place for the machine to alight."
"We can find that out from Ganda Singh."
"But there's another thing. Suppose it is possible to come down, will there be time to get the Major out and take him on board before the enemy come back? Their panic won't last long when they find they can only be hit from the air."
"It will take some time to discover that, but I foresee the worst difficulty. That's the sowars. As I said, he won't leave them, especially as some are wounded. And the biggest cowards in creation--and the Afghans are not cowards--would recover their courage and their wits long before you could fly to and fro with the sowars as passengers."
"And they'd smash the machine too. It would be an easy target most of the time. I'm afraid it's no go."
They smoked on in silence, gloomily watching the rings and clouds eddying out into the dark through the open window.
"Look here!" exclaimed Bob suddenly.
"I say!" cried Lawrence at the same moment.
"I'm going to try it," Bob continued.
"That's what I was going to say."
"But----"
"Hold hard! Just listen while I put the case with my usual sweet reasonableness. You're about fed up with patrolling the valley, I should think."
"But----"
"Let me have my say out: your turn by and by. You're a soldier; I'm not. You're the chap to defend this place, and, as you said, we've got to defend it now. You've a head for strategy and all that sort of thing: I'm a fool at it. If one of us has got to go, I can be best spared."
"You're talking perfect----"
"I know, but I haven't done yet. I haven't had quite as much practice in the aeroplane as you, but I've had quite enough for this job. And as for shying dynamite bombs, any ass could do that."
"I back you wouldn't find it easy to hit a mark," Bob got in.
"Perhaps not, but when the mark is a crowd of three or four hundred Afghans I ought to be kicked if I couldn't score at least an outer. Seriously, old man, this is my job. I'm not such a fool as to think it'll be pure fun; it's a desperately tough proposition, as the Yanks say; and of course you'd do it better than I could; but we can't both go, and I'm sure you're the right man to stay here. Now have your fling."
"Well, you've put me in a hole with your beastly logic," grumbled Bob. "I can't admit you're right without sort of making myself out to be a sprouting commander-in-chief! My word! It would be a fine thing to get the Major here! He'd take command, and I'd play second fiddle with the greatest pleasure in life. All right: you go, then."
"Thanks, old man. Just ring for Chunda, will you? I must have a talk with Ganda Singh."
"You'll do nothing of the sort. You'll go straight back to bed. You'll want all your nerve to-morrow, and after what you've gone through you'll be a limp rag in the morning unless you sleep. Go to bed. I'll arrange everything. You'll find everything ready for you in the morning. I think you had better take Fazl with you: in fact, you must, for you'll have quite enough to do with managing the machine without dropping bombs. Cut off!"
"All right. There's only one thing."
"What's that?"
"I hope to goodness the wind won't be blowing a hurricane in the morning."
CHAPTER THE EIGHTEENTH
THE TOWER IN THE HILLS
There was between four and five hours for making the necessary arrangements. Bob soon had different sets of men working at different jobs. Some he ordered to prepare baskets of food and to fill several water-skins--the want of good water was perhaps Major Endicott's greatest peril. Others he instructed to fill more tins with stones and caps, in readiness for the final charge of dynamite, which he would himself place. While all this was in hand, he had a long talk with Gur Buksh and Ganda Singh, who turned out to be old comrades in arms. They both agreed that if the chota sahib should succeed in dispersing the tribesmen now besieging the tower, and in conveying food and water to the defenders, Endicott Sahib might be trusted to extricate himself and his men from their awkward position. That the dispersal was possible Bob had never doubted; no body of men could hold together under the staggering effect of bombs exploding in their midst. And after his talk with the Sikhs he felt reassured as to the further success of the scheme. Major Endicott was a cool-headed veteran, who would take things into his own hands on Lawrence's arrival, so that the plan would not miscarry through Lawrence's lack of military experience.
On leaving the Sikhs, Bob went along the pathway to the aeroplane platform. He could not trust any one but himself to prepare the machine for the morrow's flight. He spent a couple of hours in thoroughly overhauling it: cleaning the engine, examining every inch of the framework and the stays, oiling all the moving parts. Satisfied that all was in good order, he returned to the house. At this hour it was hardly worth while to go to bed, so he bathed, shaved, and dressed, and then sent for Fazl, to give him instructions.
Lawrence joined him at dawn. They went together to the hut where Ganda Singh lay, and the wounded man, refreshed with food and sleep, was able to explain more clearly now the whereabouts of Major Endicott and the operations of his besiegers.
"You'll tell him, of course, how we are situated here," said Bob, as they walked away together. "All being well I shall expect to see him in two or three days. You'll fly back in advance and tell me?"
"I dare say, but I shan't come until I see him safe on the march. I only hope I shan't be too late."
"I don't think you will be. I gather from what Ganda Singh said that starvation is the greatest danger, but they've got their horses in the last resort. There's no wind luckily; you couldn't have a finer day. By the way, keep a look-out for the Kalmucks who got by last night. Don't drop within range of them."
Rumours of what was afoot had run round the camp. Miners and servants were gathering in the compound to witness the departure of the aeroplane. As the boys walked towards the pathway Ditta Lal joined them. He wore his wonted air of cheerfulness.
"On behalf of establishment, sir, I bid you good luck and au revoir," he said. "Clouds have silver lining, sir. If report is true, we shall soon have felicity to see famous warrior in person; with due respect, and no derogation to present company, full-fledged British officer, when he takes command, will put rosy complexion on deplorable situation."
"Paint everything red, you mean?" said Bob gravely.
"Ruddy hue of health, sir," said the Babu, missing the point. "Representative of august king-emperor, British flag, standard of freedom and all that----"
"Good-bye," said Lawrence, cutting him short. "Don't trouble to come any farther."
Bob went with him to the aeroplane platform.
"Good luck, old chap," he said, gripping Lawrence hard by the hand. He waited until the aeroplane had run off and soared out of sight, then returned in mingled hope and fear to the mine.
About a dozen miles up the valley Fazl caught sight of a number of men scuttling to cover among the rocks above the track. There was little doubt that these were the Kalmucks, who, finding themselves effectually cut off from their friends to the north, were probably hastening southward in search of provisions. Except for a few wild animals, the neighbourhood of the valley furnished no means of subsistence. There was a small hill-village about thirty miles from the mine, lying back some distance from the right bank. Perhaps the Kalmucks might find hospitality there.
Lawrence hoped that in the course of forty minutes he would come in sight of the hill-tower in which Major Endicott was besieged. From Ganda Singh's description he thought it must be identical with a tower which he had seen in the distance on one of his early trips with Bob up the river. It was a conspicuous object in the hilly landscape, and he had no fear of missing it, considering the immense expanse of country which lay open to observation from the aeroplane.
In spite of the particulars given by Ganda Singh, Lawrence felt that in approaching the tower his first care must be to reconnoitre the position thoroughly. Everything depended on his finding a convenient spot for landing, and this might be very difficult in such hilly country. The appearance of the aeroplane would of course put the enemy on their guard; but they would not know what to expect, and would probably be rather alarmed and mystified than informed. At the same time it would be a herald of hope to Major Endicott, and prepare him to take instant advantage of any diversion which it might effect in his favour.
When Lawrence had been flying for about twenty minutes he became somewhat uneasy at a sudden freshening of the wind, which blew in uncertain gusts from the mountains on his right. Since passing the Kalmucks he had kept fairly close to the river, but when the machine began to rock under these invisible eddies he thought it the safer course to rise to a considerable height. The morning air was so exhilarating, and the view of endless snow-capped heights and pine-clad ravines so superb, that only the intense cold, of which he was now conscious in spite of the summer sun, checked his ascension. On the left stretched the Pamirs, backed by peak after peak of some of the loftiest and most majestic mountains in the world. In front and on the right the Himalaya range merged into the Hindu Kush. Huge masses of cloud rolled up and down the rugged faces of the mountains, causing moment by moment wonderful changes in their aspect. Some of the peaks seemed to have covered themselves with an umbrella of fleecy billowy wool as a shield against the kindling sunbeams.
The enormous scale of this panorama defied perspective and gave a false idea of distance. Lawrence knew that peaks which, clearly limned against the sky, might be thought to be ten or fifteen miles away, were in reality more than a hundred. But for the urgency of his mission, he felt that he would have liked to sail on and on in this empyrean height, exploring regions never trodden by the foot of man.
All the time, Fazl kept a keen eye on the track and the river, winding along hundreds, even thousands, of feet below. The hill-tower lay somewhat to the west of the road which the Appletons had travelled with Major Endicott several months before, and from this road the track leading to the mine branched. The Gurkha knew the country pretty well. Fast as the aeroplane flew, he distinguished without hesitation the junction of the roads, and at his word Lawrence altered his course and, leaving the valley, steered over the hills on his right hand.
Very soon Fazl was able to descry the hill-tower in the far distance. The aeroplane was flying at the rate of at least a mile a minute; but minute after minute passed, and yet the tower seemed little nearer. When at last Lawrence had come close enough to it to be able to distinguish its general features, he saw that it was a single square-built tower of the usual Afghan type, perched on a small hill that rose sharply from the surrounding country. The side nearest him overhung an almost perpendicular declivity. Though solidly constructed in appearance, it was little more than a ruin. The top had partially fallen away, and in the wall facing him there was a long jagged fissure.
While still at some distance, Lawrence heard rifle-shots, though neither he nor Fazl could as yet see any signs of the enemy. He felt his heart thumping. He was still in time, then; for if all was over the firing would have ceased. Planing down in a long glide, he passed over the tower, still at a considerable altitude, and then suddenly caught sight of an encampment in a nullah on the farther side. In the brief moment of his crossing he was not able to get more than a glimpse of it; the nullah was so deep, and the encampment encompassed so closely by shrubs, dwarf pines, and other trees, that he might have missed it altogether but for a thin column of smoke arising from a fire in the bottom. But his rapid glance was enough for reassurance; the camp would have been struck if the tower was captured; it was clear that the Major was still holding out.
Dropping still lower, he began to sweep round in a circle. Before he reached the nullah again Fazl pointed out to him a number of isolated dots on the rugged surface below, spread over an extensive patch of ground. Some were small, others larger, and as he flew by Fazl explained that they were groups of the enemy, who had posted themselves wherever the nature of the ground gave them cover from the fire of the occupants of the tower. They were disposed in a rough semicircle about the western wall, in which there was a door. The approach on this side was by a steep slope; on the other side the tower was apparently inaccessible.
Between the wall and this semicircle of besiegers were scattered at irregular intervals a number of dark forms.
"Dead!" ejaculated Fazl.
They were evidently the bodies of men who had fallen in attempting to rush the place. Ganda Singh had mentioned that on the day he left the Afghans had made a vigorous assault, but were beaten back with heavy loss.
Bringing the aeroplane round so as to pass again over the encampment, Lawrence noticed a number of horses picketed near the rough huts. The Gurkha cried excitedly that the animals were kicking and straining at their ropes, and men were rushing to hold them. The noise of the engine had thrown them into a state of blind terror. Two or three broke away, and galloped madly up the nullah.
Several shots were fired at the aeroplane. Lawrence was somewhat surprised that the men were not struck with panic, like their horses, at the appearance of this strange booming monster of the air. It did not occur to him until afterwards that rumours of it must have been carried far and wide through the country for months past. Men who had seen it in its flights had described it to their neighbours or to wanderers whom they met in the hills; and although few, perhaps, of these tribesmen now present had actually seen it before, doubtless many of them had heard more or less veracious accounts of it. The frantic terror of the ponies suggested to Lawrence an idea on which he acted immediately. He abandoned his original purpose of making a preliminary reconnaissance of the whole position and then retiring to a distance to work out a plan. To a mounted force there is nothing so demoralizing as the loss of their horses. Lawrence knew this, and in a flash saw also that the Major, if he should escape from the tower, would have little to fear from an enemy pursuing on foot. He resolved therefore to attempt to stampede all the horses, and take advantage of the resulting confusion.
By the time he had come to this determination he was some distance past the nullah. Telling Fazl to drop a bomb among the horses when he again crossed it, he rose rapidly to a height of about a thousand feet, wheeled round, and swooped down in a long incline towards the camp. He scarcely realized that he was taking his life in his hands as he flew almost within point-blank range. Nor had he calculated on the possible effect of the coming explosion on the aeroplane. When he arrested his downward flight he was so near the ground that the bursting of the bomb set the machine rocking violently, and for a few moments he could scarcely control it. Cool-headed marksmen could then have taken fatal aim at him; but the Afghans were fascinated and paralysed by his headlong descent, and while they were still wondering and dreading what it might portend, the explosion of the bomb within a few yards of them struck them with terror.
Lawrence swept round to observe the effect of this bolt from the blue. A great troop of horses was galloping wildly along the nullah to the west. He caught sight of their forms, black, brown and grey, wherever there were breaks among the trees. Farther up the nullah, where the sides were less steep, the frantic animals were dashing across the country in all directions. Beneath, a few lay motionless on the ground. Loth as he was to destroy or maim the unoffending beasts, he felt that this was not an occasion for half measures: there was too much at stake. In their panic flight it was inevitable that many of the horses must dash themselves to pieces in the ravines and fissures with which the country was seamed. To prevent the rallying of the rest, he set off in pursuit. Sweeping the ground like a shepherd's dog after a flock of sheep, he flew backwards and forwards and from side to side at the heels of the terrified animals. No more bombs were necessary. The whirr of the propeller behind them drove them on at the same mad rush, and in a quarter of an hour there was not a living horse within several miles of the encampment.
On returning towards the tower, Lawrence was surprised to see that the groups of Afghans had disappeared from around it. But as he crossed the nullah there were bursts of smoke from among the trees and the undergrowth, and above the hum of the propeller he heard the characteristic whistle of bullets. Later he discovered that several holes had been drilled in the planes. The firing ceased as suddenly as it had begun. Crossing the nullah almost at right angles, the aeroplane was visible for only a few seconds to the men hidden in the bottom.
From an embrasure high up in the tower a white handkerchief was fluttering in the breeze. Lawrence wished that he had some means of communicating instantly with the Major; but the attack from which he had just escaped proved that he could not venture to alight, nor could he be of any further service to the little garrison until the nullah had been cleared. It was necessary to drive the men up the ravine in the same direction as he had already driven the horses. There might be more difficulty in this, for the enemy were completely concealed by the trees and undergrowth, so that he could not tell exactly where they were. The only plan that promised complete success was to fly some distance down the ravine, and then work up it, dropping bombs when he approached the spot where the firing had broken out.
In a few brief sentences he explained his purpose to Fazl. Making a wide sweep he came back to the nullah half a mile to the east; then, reducing speed to the minimum, but keeping at a good altitude, he followed the winding course of the gully. The enemy played into his hands. Another burst of smoke revealed their whereabouts. Fazl instantly dropped a bomb, and turning to watch the effect, cried out that a dense cloud of smoke and dust had arisen from the scene of the explosion. Lawrence wheeled round again, described a wide semicircle, passing immediately above the tower, and, regaining the nullah, repeated the manoeuvre.
This time Fazl reported that he saw men among the trees, running up the ravine. The enemy could scarcely have chosen a less secure shelter. The explosion of a bomb in so constricted a space must be many times more destructive than in the open. But Lawrence had no inclination towards needless slaughter. His object would be achieved if he drove the men away as he had driven the horses. Knowing that they were on the run, he dropped another bomb to speed their flight; then swept round again, and pursued the same tactics as had already proved so effectual. When the enemy reached the less wooded part of the nullah, he found it easy to hover about their rear, and, without the further use of bombs, to impel them to the most desperate exertions by the mere harrying pursuit of the aeroplane.
He was not content until he had driven them many miles up the nullah. Whenever they showed a disposition to break away into the open country to right or left, a swoop of the aeroplane in that direction was sufficient to send them scurrying back. In their haste and panic they did not halt to fire again, and Lawrence was at length satisfied that even if they should recover their nerve and courage, they were too far away to trouble the garrison of the tower for at least a couple of hours.
On nearing the tower, he saw that several figures had emerged from the door at the foot. He glided down to within a few yards of it, and shouted a greeting to Major Endicott, who waved his hand in response. Then he sought for a landing-place. The ground in the immediate vicinity was too broken to allow of a safe descent; but after circling round once or twice, he discovered a space sufficiently flat and open for his purpose about a quarter of a mile away. Alighting there, he left the aeroplane in Fazl's charge, and, feeling very shaky on his legs after the exhausting and nervous work of the past two hours, he walked back to meet the British officer.