CHAPTER THE NINETEENTHSTALKED"Masterly cattle-driving," were Major Endicott's first words as Lawrence joined him.No one would have supposed from the simple words and the natural hand-shake that the meeting marked the end of a tense and perilous situation. Five sowars grouped at the door saluted and gave a shout of welcome."I'm jolly glad I'm in time," said Lawrence."Jolly good of you to come at all--wholly unexpected. I had quite forgotten that you had brought an aeroplane out.""I say, are you hungry?""We are on our second horse. We had to use our own food for the animals. We are desperately thirsty, though. The well water is putrid.""I've got plenty of food and water in the aeroplane.""That's more than I hoped. I'll send the men for it. Horse-flesh isn't bad, but it lacks variety; and thirst is torture."Having dispatched three of the sowars to fetch the provisions, he said--"I sent the dafadar on the chance of his finding you. Is all well at the mine?""We're in the deuce of a fix, Major. There's a regular army of Kalmucks forty miles north of us.""Kalmucks! An army of them!" said the Major in surprise."Yes. Bob estimates the number at twenty thousand."The Major knit his brows. The news evidently disturbed him."Encamped, you say? Any signs of a movement?""They intend marching up the valley. We have had two or three brushes with advanced parties.""That's very serious." He reflected silently for a little; then, as if rousing himself from a reverie, continued--"You didn't need my warning, then. Your uncle was already preparing to decamp?""Uncle's gone!""Not left you young-- Why, my dear fellow--you don't mean that he's----"Lawrence nodded."One of our miners shot him," he said briefly."Poor old Harry! That's a good fellow gone. I'm awfully sorry for you young fellows. Is your brother getting ready to come away?""Bob is still at the mine. It's in a narrow gorge, and we've blocked up the only path, so they can't get at us for some little time. But what are we to do, Major? You and your men will march for the mine, won't you?"The Major sank again into a brown study. Lawrence watched his grave face anxiously."It's a pity, but I haven't time," he said at length. "I must get south as rapidly as possible. What you tell me confirms the rumours that have been flying about. When I started from Rawal Pindi there was talk of risings in different parts of the country, and as I came north I heard about large movements in Central Asia. I thought they were directed against Russia, but it seems pretty clear that the imbeciles are going to break their heads against us. This flanking movement will give us trouble. I must get back to the nearest post and wire the news to headquarters, and they'll want me; I've made an egregious failure here, but I may still be able to do something among the tribes farther south.""But it's war now, isn't it? Ganda said you had only a few men. You could hardly fight your way back if the enemy were across the road.""I've those five men you see there, and two of them are wounded. I started with twelve; six were killed. And I almost wish you hadn't stampeded the enemy's horses quite so thoroughly. The enemy collared all but three of ours. We killed two for food. On foot we are at a terrible disadvantage. The only thing for me to do is to ride off alone, and trust to luck. One man might get through safely where a party would fail. I know the ground thoroughly. The one thing that bothers me is my wounded. I was going to suggest that my men should make tracks for your mine; they might be of use to you; but the two wounded fellows can't stand the march.""I see a way out of that," said Lawrence at once. "I can take them in the aeroplane and be back in a couple of hours or so. I should have to leave my Gurkha, but he would come along with your men.""The country's clear between here and the mine, I suppose?""Practically; a few Kalmucks got past before we blocked up the path--we blasted the rocks with dynamite. There aren't more than a dozen, certainly.""Armed?""Yes, but I fancy they're without food, and in no condition to tackle your men if they meet. Besides, when I get back I can cover their march: I've several bombs left.""Dynamite again, as I saw. Your mine is rather useful. I'll remain here, then, until you get back, and then leave my men to you.""But, Major, I don't like to think of you riding alone over ninety or a hundred miles of country that may be overrun by the enemy.""It wouldn't be the first time one of us has tried it and got through safely. Anyway, I see nothing else for it. This news must be got through to Simla, and while I'm alive I mustn't be out of the way.""I've an idea. Why not march with the men to the mine? Then Bob or I would carry you across country in the aeroplane. You'd lose a day or two to begin with, but after all you'd get to the post quite as soon as on horseback--without any of the dangers.""Aeroplaneperfectlysafe then?" he said with a quizzical smile."Well, we've had no trouble with it yet, and Bob would take you, I dare say; he's better at it than I am.""It's uncommonly good of you to suggest it. How far is your mine from here?""Something over forty miles.""That means two days' march at least, in such rugged country and on foot. Well, I'll close with you. I should like to take stock of the position at your mine. I might make a suggestion, perhaps; and if you or your brother will be good enough to carry me across country, I shall be grateful, and it'll be useful to Government. How far did you drive those Afghans, by the by?""Quite six miles, I should think, so you'll have a good start. Even if they buck up and catch their horses, they won't get back here before me, and I don't believe they'll come back at all. They were pretty thoroughly scared by the bombs.""Very well, then, we shall have to carry my wounded to the aeroplane. They'll be horribly nervous. Can you strap them in?""With their own belts. They'll get over their nervousness in a few minutes; it's easier travelling than by railway.""I'm glad of that. I was afraid I should be squeamish myself. The rest of us will start as soon as you are off."The sowars had now returned with the baskets of food, and the whole party sat on the ground, with their rifles across their knees, to what was a sumptuous feast after their recent privations. When they had finished the meal, the two wounded men were carried by their comrades to the aeroplane. Fazl quietly obeyed Lawrence's order to give up his seat, though he was clearly disappointed; and the two passengers having been securely strapped in, Bob started, with a cheery "So long!" to the Major."Hai, sahib!" said one of the men, who were overawed by these strange proceedings: "that is a terrible thing.""A godsend to us," said the Major. He then explained to them his purpose. One of them brought his horse from the tower, and ten minutes after Lawrence's departure the little party started, the three sowars having strapped on their backs the water-skins and the baskets, with what was left of the provisions. They made their way down the ravine, to avoid observation from any of the Afghans who might be still lurking in the neighbourhood, the Major's intention being to strike across country to the river as soon as they were out of sight of the surroundings of the tower.Lawrence's mind was so busily occupied with this latest turn of Fortune's wheel that he forgot, on his flight back to the mine, to keep a look-out for the Kalmucks. He would scarcely have seen them, for they heard the hum of the machine from a considerable distance, and, mindful of former happenings, they concealed themselves behind rocks or among bushes without making any attempt to check its flight with their rifles.About ten miles from the mine Lawrence had a momentary fright. The engine, which had worked with perfect accuracy ever since the first experiments, now suddenly missed fire. Before he had time to think of what he should do if it failed, however, it recovered itself, and gave him no further anxiety. On coming within sight of the platform, he saw with relief that Bob was there to meet him; it was clear that all was well at present. When he alighted he explained the situation of Major Endicott in a few rapid sentences. Bob walked a few yards along the pathway, round the curve, and hallooed to Gur Buksh to send some of the men to him. These carried the wounded sowars to the compound, and presently returned with more baskets of food, which Bob had ordered to be prepared for the Major's party on the march."I say, Bob," said Lawrence during the men's absence, "there was a miss-fire a few miles back.""Whew! it's beginning to play tricks then. We've been very lucky so far. Need you go back?""Oh yes! I told the Major I'd return to cover his march.""Let me have a look at it."He opened up the engine, examined all its parts, started it."It seems to be working all right. I don't see any grit; if there was any it's been got rid of. If it should happen again you had better plane down and wait till the Major reaches you; but I don't think you'll have any trouble."As Lawrence got into his place, he recollected the bombs that lay beneath the seat that Fazl had occupied."Shift those, Bob, will you?" he said. "It will be rather awkward without Fazl if I have to use them. Put them as closely within reach as you can. I shall have to steer with one hand and drop them with the other.""Probably you won't have to use them at all. The Major and four men will be more than a match for those Kalmuck fellows, who must be getting famished by this time.""The Afghans may be in pursuit, though.""But the mere sight of the aeroplane might be enough for them after what has happened. Still, it's just as well to be prepared. Bluffing sometimes doesn't come off, and the aeroplane is useless for offensive action without the bombs. If you do find the Major fighting a rear-guard action don't be too tender. Strike hard if you strike at all.""Well, I'll do what I must. Don't expect us before to-morrow night at the earliest. I shall have to come down at times, or the petrol won't last out; and when the Major is within a few miles I'll fly back ahead of him if all's safe. So long!"Bob watched him out of sight. He felt a little anxious; he would have been alarmed had he known that within five miles of the mine the engine began to give trouble again. Lawrence was in two minds whether to return and have it thoroughly overhauled, or to continue on his course. But he felt that delay might be serious to the Major, and, as before, the engine might soon right itself. He kept straight on. His hopes were flattered when, after a minute or two of fitful explosions, the engine worked normally again.But he had only flown about half-way to the tower, as he guessed, when the trouble recommenced. Hoping against hope, he continued his flight for a minute or so, until he became convinced that the engine was on the point of breaking down utterly. He had been preparing himself for the possibility, but found himself in a serious difficulty now that the problem actually faced him. The valley at the point which he had reached was broader than at the mine, and not so rocky or broken up as it was in many other parts. But it offered few spots where even the most intrepid and experienced airman would care to risk a descent. The banks of the river were covered with thick scrub and bushes; here and there on the hill-side there were patches of brushwood and small clumps of trees; everywhere the ground was broken. But it was no time for picking and choosing. If he had not begun to plane down by the time the engine finally failed, the chances were that he would be smashed to pieces.Casting an anxious look on the ground, he decided to make for an open space between two belts of woodland. He could not tell whether it was as level as it seemed; all that he was sure of was that it allowed room for alighting and was free from considerable obstructions.The problem of descent had so fully occupied him that not until he had actually begun the vol plané did he remember with a thrill of consternation the dynamite bombs at his feet. For a moment his brain seemed paralysed; then, as he realized the full measure of his peril, he braced himself to deal with it. If the ground proved to be less smooth than it seemed, the shock of alighting might well be severe enough to explode the dynamite. Then, instead of a broken chassis or a wrenched stay, and a few bruises--the slight mishaps that had befallen many an airman--the result would be the complete shattering of the aeroplane and himself. The only way of safety was to jettison the bombs, and he instantly stooped to pick them up one by one and cast them over the side. There followed a series of detonations like pistol-shots much magnified, each louder than the one before. The bombs fell behind the aeroplane as it descended in a gliding swoop, and Lawrence was now beset by a new anxiety: whether, maintaining his control of the machine, he could get rid of the bombs fast enough to escape risk of damage by the explosions as he neared the ground. There would have been little or no danger if he had been flying at speed; but his downward course being at a rather large angle, the closer he came to the ground, the nearer he would be to the scene of the last explosion.A spectator would have had a poor opinion of the airmanship of the pilot whose machine was descending so unsteadily. To control planes, elevator, and rudder; to keep an eye on the ground; and at the same time to cast the bombs overboard: all these simultaneous tasks put a severe strain upon his nerve, agility, and judgment. He got rid of the last bomb within about thirty feet of the ground, and immediately shifted the elevator to avoid a too sudden landing. It was fortunate that he checked the descent when he did; but he was too near the ground to escape altogether. The force of the explosion set the aeroplane rocking as in a gale of wind. He was enveloped in a cloud of smoke and dust and fragments of rock. For a moment or two he lost control of the machine, and instead of alighting evenly, one side hit the ground first, and it toppled over. Lawrence was flung out. As he rose dizzily to his feet, he thought himself lucky to have escaped with a few bruises and a pain in his left ankle, which had apparently been turned over as he fell.When he regained his scattered wits he limped to the aeroplane, and looked at it ruefully. At first sight it appeared to be wrecked, but on examining it more closely he was relieved to find that the damage was such as could be repaired with a little care. The left side of the chassis was twisted; some of the stays were broken, and the left-hand plane was badly ripped."A narrow squeak," he said to himself. "And now what on earth is to be done?"He sat down and felt his sprained ankle. It was very tender to the touch, and he realized that he could not set off on foot to meet the Major, but must remain until he arrived. At a guess he had come about twenty-five miles from the mine. The Major could not be nearer than ten miles. He could not expect to see him for three hours at least. The whole prospect was gloomy. The aeroplane could only be repaired at the mine, and it was quite impossible for the three sowars and Fazl to transport it over twenty-five miles of a narrow and difficult track. It seemed as if the machine must be left where it lay until men could be fetched from the mine to take it to pieces, and that would need Bob's superintendence. The proposed flight to the British post was out of the question, and he knew the Major well enough to be sure that he would revert to his original intention of making the journey on horseback, alone. Altogether it was a desperately vexatious plight.And then he remembered the Kalmucks, whom for the time he had forgotten. He had seen nothing of them either going or coming, but unless they had struck across the hills, which was unlikely, they must be very near to where he now was. They could not fail to have heard the successive explosions of the bombs, so that they would be on the alert. They might have seen the descent of the aeroplane from their lurking places among the rocks, and if they should guess that he had come to grief, they would have him at their mercy. As soon as his thoughts took this direction Lawrence got up and unstrapped his rifle from the aeroplane. He took his revolver from his pocket; it was uninjured. Then lifting his field-glass he swept the surrounding country for signs of the enemy.He had to admit to himself that his position could scarcely be worse. The spot on which he had landed was fairly open, but it was surrounded by broken ground that would give ample cover to an enemy. On two sides, up- and down-stream, the clumps of woodland approached to within a hundred yards. Below him, not far away, was the river, lined on both banks with a thick fringe of brushwood and rushes. Above, the hill rose gently for a great distance, but it was very rugged, broken by contorted fissures, through some of which rivulets zigzagged swiftly down to the river. He swept the country again and again with his glass, and took some comfort from the absence of any sign of man; but there were so many places where the Kalmucks might be in hiding that he thought it wise to seek some secluded spot himself, where he would be better able than on the open ground to guard against surprise.He rose and limped up the slope of the hill. After a little search, he discovered a hollow about forty yards above the aeroplane, from which he could take a bird's-eye view of the ground, and where he had a certain amount of shelter. Thither he carried his rifle, a basket of food and a flask of water, and lay down to wait with what patience he might for the coming of Major Endicott.It was now midday, and the sun was very hot. For some time he kept a sharp look-out, examining the country every few minutes through his field-glass, and creeping from side to side of the hollow so as to extend and change his view. Presently, however, the great heat and his failure to discover any trace of the enemy caused him to relax his vigilance. He was very tired; whenever he moved, his ankle gave him much pain; and, as at the bridge during his night watch, an oppressive drowsiness stole upon him, which he found it impossible to shake off. He would nod, recover himself, vow that it should not happen again, and in another minute his head would fall forward, and he opened his eyes bedazed and scarcely realizing where he was. Then once more he raised the glass to his eyes, and gazed around almost mechanically, only to go through the same series of nods and starts again.Recovering himself after a more prolonged fit of dozing, he rubbed his eyes, pinched himself, and threw a glance around. His sluggish faculties were quickened by the sight of something moving in the thin brushwood at the edge of the northern clump. He quickly lifted his glass and directed it at the spot, but saw nothing suspicious, and supposed that either he had been mistaken, or that the moving object had been some animal which he need not trouble about. But the momentary suspicion banished his drowsiness; now wide awake, he sat with his back against the rock, fixing his eyes on the scene in front of him.Presently he started. Beyond doubt a figure had run from tree to tree on the hill-side to the right, a little above him. By the time he had levelled his glass on the spot the figure had disappeared. He reached for his rifle, and crouched low in the hollow, peering over its edge. Next moment his attention was again caught by a movement in the clump of wood where he had first noticed it. This time he could see, even with the naked eye, the form of a man bending low. Almost immediately afterwards another half-perceived movement caused him to look towards a spot midway between the wood and the place on the hill-side where he had seen the first form. The top of a skin hat was projecting above a knob of rock there."Stalking, by George!" he said to himself.His first instinct was to seize his rifle; his second to look around for some way of escape. It was possible that the Kalmucks had not yet discovered him, though the aeroplane was full in their view; and if he could only creep among the shrubs into some deep fissure he might yet elude them. He might even make a dash for it, gain the clump of trees to the south, and push on to meet Major Endicott. The enemy would probably waste some time in searching for him--enough to give him a good start. But he saw at a glance that he could not reach the trees without crossing the open ground in sight of the enemy, and partially crippled as he was he could not hope to outstrip them, even if they did not use in the pursuit the horses which they had had when they slipped past the mine. His only course was to stay where he was, hoping with good luck to remain undiscovered. In the last resort he could do some execution among them with his weapons, though the odds of numbers against him precluded any idea of his being able to keep them off permanently.At that moment he was more concerned about the fate of the aeroplane than about his own. It would be of no use to the enemy; they would probably destroy it, and that prospect enraged him. For the first time he felt a real desire to fight and slay, and wondered whether, when the enemy came into the open, he might not pick them off one by one. After all, he thought, his position in the hollow gave him some advantage. They could not take good aim at him, whereas if they attempted to rush him across the open space, he could mark them down almost at his leisure.His reflections were suddenly cut short by a rifle-shot. A bullet struck the ground unpleasantly near him, and sent up a spurt of earth, some of which struck him. He crouched still lower in the hollow. Escape was now out of the question: he must simply wait and take what opening of defending himself offered.The shot had been fired from the clump of wood. Immediately afterwards the man on the hill-side stood erect in the attitude of taking aim. Lawrence hastily levelled his rifle and took a rough shot at him, with what effect he could not tell, for his attention was at once called off by a rush of the man in the wood, who dashed forward over several yards towards a patch of bush nearer to the hollow. Lawrence felt that his position was even worse than he had supposed. The enemy had scattered with a definite plan. They meant to work their way gradually towards him under cover, distracting him by firing in turn, until they thought it possible to overwhelm him with a final rush from several sides. He wished he had acted on his first impulse to sprint towards the wood on the south. Was it possible even now to do it? A sudden twinge in his ankle gave him the answer. They had him in a trap.[image]THE KALMUCKS MAKE A PRISONERAnd then he saw something flickering by a tree up the hill-side. It seemed to be a piece of cloth. Was it a flag of truce? While he was watching it there was a patter of feet behind him. Three men had risen as it were out of the earth southwards of the hollow. Before he could rise they flung themselves upon him. He was dashed to the ground. He made desperate efforts to free himself, writhing, kicking, trying to free one of his hands to use his revolver. But they pinned him down: one snatched his revolver from him, the others held him firmly by the neck and feet, and when his hopeless struggles ceased they whipped off their leather girdles and tied him up so that he was unable to move. Then they turned him on his back, uttering guttural grunts of satisfaction, and he looked up into the malicious faces of Nurla Bai and Black Jack.CHAPTER THE TWENTIETHA FRIEND IN NEEDEven a philosopher, we know, cannot bear the toothache patiently. Every one has at one time or another recognized in himself the unphilosophic tendency to feel irritation at some trivial thing--a speck of mud on one's clean collar, a hair in one's soup. We have all been much more deeply annoyed by a slight blemish or mishap than troubled at a really grave misfortune.The plight in which Lawrence now found himself was serious enough to justify an access of rage or despair. But it was not his capture or his bonds that inflicted the severest pang upon his self-esteem. It was the sight of Nurla Bai and his dwarfish henchman making free with the sardine sandwiches which Shan Tai had put up for his especial delectation.When they had bound him, the three Kalmucks glanced around, spied the basket a few feet away, and rushed at it with cries of delight. Lawrence looked on in disgust as they wolfed the eatables--too delicate for their untutored palates, too unsubstantial to appease their ravenous appetite. He felt a thrill of joy when, on the remainder of the party coming up, until there were nine altogether, the new arrivals clamoured for a share, and began to push and snatch just as he had seen a flock of greedy sparrows pecking at one another over a single crust. But though these thieves were falling out, there was no chance of the honest man coming by his own.The contents of the basket soon disappeared, and the men looked round wolfishly for more. At sight of the aeroplane hope flashed upon them, and with one consent they ran to realize it. Lawrence could no longer see them over the edge of the hollow, but he heard their shouts of glee, the creaking of basket lids, and then the steady smacking of eighteen busy lips as they fell upon the viands provided for Major Endicott and his men. He was very angry. He felt not a touch of sympathy for them in their famishment. To him they were merely gluttons, not starving fellow-creatures.During their absence he tried to wriggle out of his bonds, but the work had been well done, and he lay still, wondering what was to become of him. They had not killed him: he was suddenly aware of that agreeable fact, though his pleasure in it was damped when he foresaw a possible long captivity. While they gulped and gloated his thoughts ran round a ring. Would they carry him on with them, going southward? Then they would meet Major Endicott, and there would be a fight. If they, fortified by his own food, should get the upper hand, he would still be their helpless prisoner. If they were beaten, it would be consistent with Nurla Bai's ferocious temper to kill him before taking to flight. Either way, his case would be deplorable.Presently the men came back to him, still munching and smacking their lips. A villainous crew they looked. Besides Nurla Bai and Black Jack, there were two other miners; the rest, differently and more martially clad, were evidently part of the advancing force. They sat down at the edge of the hollow, chewing the cud of excellent victuals and of sweet exaltation of mind. Lawrence writhed as he realized how completely these ruffians had outwitted him. The men in front of him a while ago had been simply holding his attention, while the others crept upon him from behind. It was humiliating--one more proof, he thought, that he was certainly not cut out for a soldier.At first the men did nothing but grunt, like pigs that have gorged themselves. Their little eyes rested on their prisoner indolently, as though he were an object of no importance. By and by they began to talk to one another, and then to throw taunting and insolent remarks at him. His knowledge of the niceties of abuse of which their tongue was capable was limited, but he understood enough to make his blood boil. But he discreetly held his peace: he would not flatter them by bandying abuse.When they had thus enjoyed themselves for a while, Nurla Bai rose, and planted himself within a few feet of Lawrence."What is the good of the great hummingbird now?" he said with a sneer. "Those that hunt partridges ought not to make a noise."It flashed upon Lawrence that the man supposed that the aeroplane had been in pursuit of him. Evidently he was unaware that a party was marching down the track towards the mine. It was just as well to flatter his error. Lawrence made no reply."The little tins missed their mark," Nurla Bai went on. "Too much haste spoils the hunt. The hawk has broken its wing, I perceive. Perhaps it can be mended?"Lawrence reflected that by telling the truth he might gain a little time and save the aeroplane from destruction."Yes; it can be mended," he said, "but not here. The damage is slight, but the machine is quite useless as it is."The Kalmuck sat looking at him, apparently following out a train of thought."How long might it take a man to learn how to use the wings?" he said at length.Lawrence caught the drift of the question."Perhaps six months, perhaps a year," he said. "It depends on the man."Nurla Bai looked disappointed; clearly he had hoped to appropriate the machine, get it mended, and then make instant use of it. He considered for a little, and then said--"The hunter is caught in his own toils. You are now as my servant, to do whatsoever I command. It is a change. Give me the mine: I give you the machine.""That is foolishness. Bob Sahib will never give up the mine.""We shall see," said the man with a leer. "When he beholds you in my hands, and knows that if he refuses you will be shot, and the machine broken up, I think he will be wise."At this Lawrence saw a ray of hope in the situation. If they took him back to the mine as a hostage, Major Endicott would discover the abandoned aeroplane and push on with all speed. But he soon discovered that his captors had no intention of abandoning the aeroplane. Nurla Bai no doubt reckoned on the sight of it in his hands having a very potent effect on the other sahib at the mine. After a consultation among themselves, the men went into the wood, and began to fell some of the smaller trees, and to lop branches from the larger. In a short time they had collected a considerable quantity. They carried these down to the river, and set about binding them into a raft with rushes and rods of osier. When this was done, they hauled the aeroplane to it, placed it in the middle, and proceeded to weave a long grass rope, which they attached to the rear of the raft. Then one of the men, carrying a straight sapling, mounted behind the aeroplane, and the whole contrivance was pushed into the stream.The Kalmucks gave a shout of satisfaction on seeing the raft float down with the current. Two men held the rope to check its speed in the more rapid reaches of the river. The man upon it used his pole to fend it off rocks and snags. The others fetched their horses from the wood in which they had been tethered. On one of these Lawrence was mounted, with his hands still tied. Black Jack rode alongside, firmly grasping the bridle. Thus, when the afternoon was already far advanced, they began the march in the direction of the mine.Lawrence had not looked on without expostulation at the handling of the aeroplane, but Nurla Bai ignored his protests. When he saw it swaying and jolting on the raft, he expected it to be irretrievably ruined before it had gone many miles on its course. The river, everywhere rapid, became a torrent in the gorges; and at these narrow places Lawrence anticipated that the raft would be whirled and cast about utterly beyond control, driven on one bank or the other, or smashed on some rock in mid-stream. But he discovered that the Kalmucks had been as much alive to the risks as he was himself, and his opinion of Nurla Bai rose. Just before coming to a gorge, they drew the raft to the bank, lifted the aeroplane, and carried it overland until the river broadened again. The man with the pole remained by the raft until his comrades were a long way in advance; then he let it race down the gorge unchecked and followed it along the bank, to find that it had been recovered at the further end.The party had been marching for about an hour when they were met by three other Kalmucks, tramping wearily up the track on foot. Lawrence recognized them as miners. They had either not been furnished with horses by the advanced guard beyond the mine, or had had their steeds shot under them during the scamper in the darkness. Nurla Bai gave these hungry men a portion of the provisions that were still left, and they turned about and marched with the rest down-stream. The journey was continued until the growing darkness rendered further advance impossible. Mooring the raft to a tree on the bank, the men prepared to camp for the night, on a moss-covered space just above. Lawrence was lifted from the horse; his feet were again tied; and he was laid in the centre of the encampment. The horses were tethered in a copse hard by, and when a fire had been lighted a few yards northward of the bivouac, the men disposed themselves in a wide circle about their prisoner, and devoted themselves to the remnants of the provisions. No one offered Lawrence a share--a lack of courtesy which did not trouble him. No one spoke to him; but there was no charm in their conversation. They scarcely even looked at him; he suffered nothing from their neglect. He wished they would not eat so noisily; and when, having gobbled the last scraps of the food intended for Major Endicott and his party, they sat with their knees up, and chattered across him in their rasping voices, he felt that no one could be said to have a complete experience of the minor troubles of life who had not been an enforced companion of Kalmucks.A great deal of what they said was incomprehensible to him, but he caught a phrase now and then that interested him in spite of himself. One concerned his uncle. Nurla Bai was apparently relating, for the benefit of the strangers from the north, the doughty deeds he had recently performed. Among them he ranked the shooting of the Englishman who had been his employer. From what he said, Lawrence gathered that the disappearance of Mr. Appleton was as great a disappointment to the miners as to himself. They joked about it, however; Nurla Bai became facetious as he described the consternation of the fishes as they beheld the body of an Englishman, strange monster, sinking into their midst. It was fortunate that Lawrence did not understand the idiomatic beastliness with which the man depicted the gruesome feast then celebrated on the stony bottom of the river.Another flight of the Kalmuck's fancy afforded him much amusement. Nurla Bai gave rein to his eloquence in picturing the scenes that Delhi was soon to witness: Ubacha Khan sitting in state on the ancient throne of the Moguls, withering with his frown the throng of cowed and shivering Englishmen who grovelled at his feet, and beslobbered them with tears as they pleaded vainly for mercy. Lawrence heard for the first time of the exquisite tortures which Mongol ingenuity could devise for helpless prisoners; and while he was amused at the picture conjured up of British officers suing a new Mogul emperor for pardon, he was horrified at the mere imagination of the cruelties which these wretches discussed with such gloating inhumanity.Lying on his back, he could see half the ring of his captors, their squat forms silhouetted against the glow of the camp-fire, their yellow faces blanched by the moonlight now flooding the valley. He raised his eyes to the hills beyond, watching the magical play of the silvery radiance upon the peaks and promontories, making the snow sparkle; searching, as it were, the black crannies and caverns. But he soon found his interest in this wonderful illumination yield to his sense of cold. This region was one of extremes of temperature: the torrid heat of day being succeeded by Arctic cold at night. The Kalmucks did not appear conscious of it; they were inured to the climate; but to Lawrence, compelled to lie motionless, the chilliness became painful, and the warm glow of the camp-fire mocked him tantalizingly.He was to prove, this night, the contrariness of fate. Twice before, when he had wished above all things to keep awake, drowsiness had overcome him; now, when he would have given anything for the oblivion of sleep, physical discomfort and the burden of his thoughts banished sleep from his eyes. The Kalmucks became less talkative as the night wore on; presently their voices ceased altogether, and they slept. Lawrence preferred their snores to their conversation; they formed a descant to the unvarying ground bass of the river droning below. Every now and then the cry of a night-bird in the mountains added its shrill treble to the harmony.The moon sank behind the crest of the hills; black darkness stole over the valley; and the untended watch-fire sank lower and lower, until its glow was too faint even to show up the slumbering forms of the Kalmucks. Lawrence might have wondered that they had not set a watch but for his knowledge that they were quite unsuspicious of the enemy higher up the stream, and that his bonds were only too firm. His thoughts flitted to Major Endicott and his little band; where were they now? How did they regard his failure to return to them? Had they, too, encamped for the night? Was there the least possibility that the hours spent in stalking him and in constructing the raft would have given them time to draw so near that with morning light they would come upon the encampment, or overtake the Kalmucks during the ensuing day? And what was to be the final issue of all these strange events? Would he, or Bob, ever come out of the entanglement in which they had been so suddenly involved?His anxious meditation was broken short by a slight sound behind him. He turned his head--it was the only part of his body that he could move--and stretched his ear towards the spot whence the sound had seemed to come. Perhaps it was one of the Kalmucks stirring in his sleep--rising, possibly, to cast fuel upon the dying fire. He could see nothing. Twisting his neck until it ached, he tried to pierce the blackness, listening keenly for a repetition of the sound. He heard only the regular snores of the men sleeping nine or ten feet away.But there seemed to be something moving between him and them--a something darker than the night itself, creeping along the ground. It could not be a wild animal; no ibex, nor even a bear unless pressed by hunger, would have come within the scent of him; there were no tigers or leopards in these regions; could it be a man?--one of his own people? Tingling with a flush of hope, he lay perfectly still, fearful lest even the beating of his heart should betray his excitement to the enemy.There was a rustling movement near him; it seemed to come nearer; then he shuddered involuntarily as he felt something touch him. It flashed upon him that one of the Kalmucks was going to murder him, and for a moment he had to exercise stern control over his nerves to repress a cry. A cold shiver trickled down his back, and he broke out in a clammy sweat as he felt a rough hand pass over him--over his face, aside to his arms, down to his feet. He durst not utter a sound, hope and fear jostling in his brain.The hand left him. There was a moment of suspense. Then in his ear breathed a whisper."Sahib, lie still!"He felt the hand again, then a pressure upon his arm--a pressure that increased and diminished in rapid alternation. He throbbed with joy. Some one--was it Fazl?--was sawing at his bonds. The sound made by the knife or sword was scarcely perceptible; yet to his feverish apprehension it seemed loud enough to waken the heaviest sleeper. Soon he was conscious that his arms were free, and he ventured to move them stealthily to ease them of their numbness. The pressure was transferred to his feet, and after some moments of quivering anxiety he felt that these also were released from their bonds. Then cold metal touched his hand, and his eager fingers clasped over a grooved hilt."Sahib, a minute to rest, then follow me," whispered the voice.He could hardly endure the waiting, though he knew it was intended to give him command of his limbs."Sahib, now!"He raised himself on all fours, and began to creep after his deliverer, a black form crawling towards the ring of sleeping Kalmucks.The Gurkha--for it was he--had almost passed between and beyond the two men who lay stretched towards the track, when a hand shot out and gripped him by the ankle. At the same moment the owner of the hand gave a shout, his companions started up, and Bob leapt to his feet. As soon as he felt the touch upon him, Fazl wriggled like a snake, his right hand groping towards the dark form beneath him. There was a groan, and he stood free.A foot or two behind him, Bob came to a halt when he dimly saw the two figures writhing on the ground. When one of them sprang up, he was not sure for the moment whether it was friend or foe. A murmured word reassured him, and he was ready to go on. But his way was blocked. Roused by their comrade's cry, the Kalmucks hurled themselves in a shouting mass across the open space. One of them kicked up the embers of the expiring fire, and a dull glow illuminated the scene. It lent aid to the fugitives, who were themselves in shadow. But for his sprained ankle Lawrence could have sprinted away into the darkness; Fazl might by this time have been out of harm's way, but the little man, perplexed and anxious at his master's dilatoriness, turned to his assistance. Lawrence had been checked by a man who sprang at him from the left. He had no time to swing round and bring into play the right hand clutching Fazl's knife; but, instinctively shooting out his left hand, by good luck he got home upon his opponent's chin. There was little 'body' in the blow, delivered so rapidly and at such close quarters; yet his muscles were hard, and the man staggered and fell in a heap.At this moment Fazl rushed to his side, in time to engage a group of the enemy who had now got their bearings and were rushing towards him. That moss-carpeted enclosure was the scene of a struggle as extraordinary as it was short. The little Gurkha twirled and twisted, sprang high, bent low, legs and arms gyrating with a rapidity that the eye of a spectator could scarcely have followed. It was as though some infuriated gnome had sprung out of the bowels of the earth, and was executing a fantastic dance among men bewildered by his demoniacal antics. But it was a dance of death. The red glow of the newly rekindled fire flashed upon a terrible kukuri, which whirled in circles, ovals, parabolas, and fifty unnamed curves, carving intricate luminous patterns on the night. Nor were these evolutions purposeless: every stroke of the keen nimble blade was directed by the keener mind of the man wielding it. Here it struck up a knife, there a rifle; now it pierced a shoulder, now grazed a head; so swift in its darting movements that it seemed multiplied into a dozen weapons each barbed with fire.While the Gurkha was thus in the ecstasy of sword-play, keeping half the party of Kalmucks urgently engaged, Lawrence was in difficulties. The knife given him by Fazl was no doubt sharp and deadly, but it was a weapon to whose use no Englishman is bred, and demanded, though not so much free space as a sword, yet a certain amount of elbow room for its effective employment. Lawrence had only just felled his first assailant when he was himself beset by two or three at once. Half conscious of stinging sensations in arm and thigh he lashed out with left fist and right hand grasping the knife, but lost his footing, stumbled, and fell to the ground with his aggressors on top of him, snarling like wolves. He found himself with his left hand gripping one of them by the throat: his own right wrist was held as in a vice. Struggling to wrench himself free, he rolled over, dragging the panting enemy with him, their movements carrying them nearer and nearer to the camp-fire; and in a sudden flicker of light he recognized the savage features of Black Jack.In sheer muscular strength he was no match for the Kalmuck dwarf. Under the crushing pressure of Black Jack's fierce grip his hold on the knife was relaxing: the weapon was slipping from him. His hold upon the man's throat weakened; the Kalmuck was digging his nails into his left arm. As the under dog he was not able to cope with the man pressing him down. The knife dropped to the ground; his wrist was suddenly released; he felt a bony hand at his own throat, and had given himself up for lost, when a wild discordant clamour broke out close by, drowning all other sounds. For an instant Black Jack was perfectly still: then, wrenching himself away, he sprang to his feet and leapt into the darkness.Lawrence got up more slowly, every muscle and nerve quivering. He had just seen that the space around was empty of living men, when a film seemed to fall upon his eyes. He tottered, and sank fainting upon the ground.When he reopened his eyes, the flush of morning lay upon the valley. He raised his head."That's right," said Major Endicott, stepping from behind him. "How do you feel?""Rather groggy, Major," replied Lawrence. "Those fellows struck me, I think.""A gash or two: nothing to speak of. What bowled you over was hunger and fatigue, I suspect. We've got a few scraps left, which will keep you going until we reach your mine.""Is Fazl all right?""As jolly as a sandboy, though rather dilapidated. It's lucky I carry a case of sticking plaster with me; he's pretty considerably patched--much more than you are. You slept pretty soundly through my amateur surgery.""And the Kalmucks?""Gone elsewhere--all that were left of them. That machine of yours played you false then?""Yes, the engine failed, and I had to come down. I was rather bothered with getting rid of my bombs and controlling the thing at the same time, and made a hash of it--sprained my ankle, too. I was waiting for you, and the beggars stalked me. I was a silly ass to let them take me unawares.""What were they going to do with you?""Offer me and the aeroplane in exchange for the mine--as if Bob would listen to any rot like that!"Well, the aeroplane isn't worth much now, I suspect, but I fancy Bob might be disposed to think you good value for the mine. However, that's all off. The aeroplane's done for, of course?""Not a bit of it. We can put it to rights in a day.""Warrant it?""Yes. Our bargain holds if you'll risk it. I'm more than sorry this happened, if it's going to dish your plan, Major.""It shan't do that. Taking risks is part of my job--and yours too, as it happens.""I'm jolly glad you came up when you did. In another minute you would have been too late.""You've got to thank your Gurkha for that. We were marching up pretty briskly--had no trouble from the Afghans--and the Gurkha declared he heard the sound of your bombs far ahead. None of us had heard anything, but the little chap was so positive that I thought we'd be on the safe side and hurry up. Judging by the march we made, the sound must have travelled nearly ten miles--not impossible in this air, I suppose; I confess I was sceptical at first, and only began to feel anxious when you didn't return within the time stated."We came upon the tracks of the aeroplane some miles up; there was litter of all sorts about--scraps of food, broken branches and what not, and I feared you'd smashed yourself and your machine, only we couldn't find any pieces of it. But we found your rifle and field-glass in a little hollow, and the Gurkha guessed that you had tumbled among the Kalmucks. An hour after dark we caught sight of the camp-fire. The Gurkha volunteered to creep up and reconnoitre, so the rest of us halted, waiting for his report."He's a clever little chap, with a double dose of Gurkha courage. He came back very soon and told me he'd seen you tied up among them, and about the raft and so on. My sowars wanted to rush the place, but it struck me that that might be the end of you. The first instinct of such barbarians would be to knife their prisoner. It was a bit of a quandary--and the Gurkha came out strong again. It was his suggestion that he should creep into the camp and release you before we moved.""Plucky little chap!" said Lawrence warmly."A treasure! The noise of the scuffle brought us up hot-foot, and the only thing I regret is that, as the Gurkha informed me, the ringleaders, those rascally miners of yours, got away.... Now the sooner we get to your mine the better. You had better sit my horse. As all our food is gone, we shall have a strong motive for hurry, so we ought to get home before night. Of course if you think you can't stand it we'll take our time.""No: I'm fit enough. Your men will look after the raft?"He explained the method by which the aeroplane had been taken safely past the gorges, and the Major went off to instruct his men.Lawrence summoned Fazl, who was resting on a grassy knoll overlooking the river."I owe you my life; you're a brave fellow, and I thank you," he said.Fazl's plastered face broadened in a grin."Wah! sahib, the Kalmucks are pigs, and their hearts melt like butter. The sahib's servant is unworthy of praise. It is a small thing to do for the heaven-born."
CHAPTER THE NINETEENTH
STALKED
"Masterly cattle-driving," were Major Endicott's first words as Lawrence joined him.
No one would have supposed from the simple words and the natural hand-shake that the meeting marked the end of a tense and perilous situation. Five sowars grouped at the door saluted and gave a shout of welcome.
"I'm jolly glad I'm in time," said Lawrence.
"Jolly good of you to come at all--wholly unexpected. I had quite forgotten that you had brought an aeroplane out."
"I say, are you hungry?"
"We are on our second horse. We had to use our own food for the animals. We are desperately thirsty, though. The well water is putrid."
"I've got plenty of food and water in the aeroplane."
"That's more than I hoped. I'll send the men for it. Horse-flesh isn't bad, but it lacks variety; and thirst is torture."
Having dispatched three of the sowars to fetch the provisions, he said--
"I sent the dafadar on the chance of his finding you. Is all well at the mine?"
"We're in the deuce of a fix, Major. There's a regular army of Kalmucks forty miles north of us."
"Kalmucks! An army of them!" said the Major in surprise.
"Yes. Bob estimates the number at twenty thousand."
The Major knit his brows. The news evidently disturbed him.
"Encamped, you say? Any signs of a movement?"
"They intend marching up the valley. We have had two or three brushes with advanced parties."
"That's very serious." He reflected silently for a little; then, as if rousing himself from a reverie, continued--
"You didn't need my warning, then. Your uncle was already preparing to decamp?"
"Uncle's gone!"
"Not left you young-- Why, my dear fellow--you don't mean that he's----"
Lawrence nodded.
"One of our miners shot him," he said briefly.
"Poor old Harry! That's a good fellow gone. I'm awfully sorry for you young fellows. Is your brother getting ready to come away?"
"Bob is still at the mine. It's in a narrow gorge, and we've blocked up the only path, so they can't get at us for some little time. But what are we to do, Major? You and your men will march for the mine, won't you?"
The Major sank again into a brown study. Lawrence watched his grave face anxiously.
"It's a pity, but I haven't time," he said at length. "I must get south as rapidly as possible. What you tell me confirms the rumours that have been flying about. When I started from Rawal Pindi there was talk of risings in different parts of the country, and as I came north I heard about large movements in Central Asia. I thought they were directed against Russia, but it seems pretty clear that the imbeciles are going to break their heads against us. This flanking movement will give us trouble. I must get back to the nearest post and wire the news to headquarters, and they'll want me; I've made an egregious failure here, but I may still be able to do something among the tribes farther south."
"But it's war now, isn't it? Ganda said you had only a few men. You could hardly fight your way back if the enemy were across the road."
"I've those five men you see there, and two of them are wounded. I started with twelve; six were killed. And I almost wish you hadn't stampeded the enemy's horses quite so thoroughly. The enemy collared all but three of ours. We killed two for food. On foot we are at a terrible disadvantage. The only thing for me to do is to ride off alone, and trust to luck. One man might get through safely where a party would fail. I know the ground thoroughly. The one thing that bothers me is my wounded. I was going to suggest that my men should make tracks for your mine; they might be of use to you; but the two wounded fellows can't stand the march."
"I see a way out of that," said Lawrence at once. "I can take them in the aeroplane and be back in a couple of hours or so. I should have to leave my Gurkha, but he would come along with your men."
"The country's clear between here and the mine, I suppose?"
"Practically; a few Kalmucks got past before we blocked up the path--we blasted the rocks with dynamite. There aren't more than a dozen, certainly."
"Armed?"
"Yes, but I fancy they're without food, and in no condition to tackle your men if they meet. Besides, when I get back I can cover their march: I've several bombs left."
"Dynamite again, as I saw. Your mine is rather useful. I'll remain here, then, until you get back, and then leave my men to you."
"But, Major, I don't like to think of you riding alone over ninety or a hundred miles of country that may be overrun by the enemy."
"It wouldn't be the first time one of us has tried it and got through safely. Anyway, I see nothing else for it. This news must be got through to Simla, and while I'm alive I mustn't be out of the way."
"I've an idea. Why not march with the men to the mine? Then Bob or I would carry you across country in the aeroplane. You'd lose a day or two to begin with, but after all you'd get to the post quite as soon as on horseback--without any of the dangers."
"Aeroplaneperfectlysafe then?" he said with a quizzical smile.
"Well, we've had no trouble with it yet, and Bob would take you, I dare say; he's better at it than I am."
"It's uncommonly good of you to suggest it. How far is your mine from here?"
"Something over forty miles."
"That means two days' march at least, in such rugged country and on foot. Well, I'll close with you. I should like to take stock of the position at your mine. I might make a suggestion, perhaps; and if you or your brother will be good enough to carry me across country, I shall be grateful, and it'll be useful to Government. How far did you drive those Afghans, by the by?"
"Quite six miles, I should think, so you'll have a good start. Even if they buck up and catch their horses, they won't get back here before me, and I don't believe they'll come back at all. They were pretty thoroughly scared by the bombs."
"Very well, then, we shall have to carry my wounded to the aeroplane. They'll be horribly nervous. Can you strap them in?"
"With their own belts. They'll get over their nervousness in a few minutes; it's easier travelling than by railway."
"I'm glad of that. I was afraid I should be squeamish myself. The rest of us will start as soon as you are off."
The sowars had now returned with the baskets of food, and the whole party sat on the ground, with their rifles across their knees, to what was a sumptuous feast after their recent privations. When they had finished the meal, the two wounded men were carried by their comrades to the aeroplane. Fazl quietly obeyed Lawrence's order to give up his seat, though he was clearly disappointed; and the two passengers having been securely strapped in, Bob started, with a cheery "So long!" to the Major.
"Hai, sahib!" said one of the men, who were overawed by these strange proceedings: "that is a terrible thing."
"A godsend to us," said the Major. He then explained to them his purpose. One of them brought his horse from the tower, and ten minutes after Lawrence's departure the little party started, the three sowars having strapped on their backs the water-skins and the baskets, with what was left of the provisions. They made their way down the ravine, to avoid observation from any of the Afghans who might be still lurking in the neighbourhood, the Major's intention being to strike across country to the river as soon as they were out of sight of the surroundings of the tower.
Lawrence's mind was so busily occupied with this latest turn of Fortune's wheel that he forgot, on his flight back to the mine, to keep a look-out for the Kalmucks. He would scarcely have seen them, for they heard the hum of the machine from a considerable distance, and, mindful of former happenings, they concealed themselves behind rocks or among bushes without making any attempt to check its flight with their rifles.
About ten miles from the mine Lawrence had a momentary fright. The engine, which had worked with perfect accuracy ever since the first experiments, now suddenly missed fire. Before he had time to think of what he should do if it failed, however, it recovered itself, and gave him no further anxiety. On coming within sight of the platform, he saw with relief that Bob was there to meet him; it was clear that all was well at present. When he alighted he explained the situation of Major Endicott in a few rapid sentences. Bob walked a few yards along the pathway, round the curve, and hallooed to Gur Buksh to send some of the men to him. These carried the wounded sowars to the compound, and presently returned with more baskets of food, which Bob had ordered to be prepared for the Major's party on the march.
"I say, Bob," said Lawrence during the men's absence, "there was a miss-fire a few miles back."
"Whew! it's beginning to play tricks then. We've been very lucky so far. Need you go back?"
"Oh yes! I told the Major I'd return to cover his march."
"Let me have a look at it."
He opened up the engine, examined all its parts, started it.
"It seems to be working all right. I don't see any grit; if there was any it's been got rid of. If it should happen again you had better plane down and wait till the Major reaches you; but I don't think you'll have any trouble."
As Lawrence got into his place, he recollected the bombs that lay beneath the seat that Fazl had occupied.
"Shift those, Bob, will you?" he said. "It will be rather awkward without Fazl if I have to use them. Put them as closely within reach as you can. I shall have to steer with one hand and drop them with the other."
"Probably you won't have to use them at all. The Major and four men will be more than a match for those Kalmuck fellows, who must be getting famished by this time."
"The Afghans may be in pursuit, though."
"But the mere sight of the aeroplane might be enough for them after what has happened. Still, it's just as well to be prepared. Bluffing sometimes doesn't come off, and the aeroplane is useless for offensive action without the bombs. If you do find the Major fighting a rear-guard action don't be too tender. Strike hard if you strike at all."
"Well, I'll do what I must. Don't expect us before to-morrow night at the earliest. I shall have to come down at times, or the petrol won't last out; and when the Major is within a few miles I'll fly back ahead of him if all's safe. So long!"
Bob watched him out of sight. He felt a little anxious; he would have been alarmed had he known that within five miles of the mine the engine began to give trouble again. Lawrence was in two minds whether to return and have it thoroughly overhauled, or to continue on his course. But he felt that delay might be serious to the Major, and, as before, the engine might soon right itself. He kept straight on. His hopes were flattered when, after a minute or two of fitful explosions, the engine worked normally again.
But he had only flown about half-way to the tower, as he guessed, when the trouble recommenced. Hoping against hope, he continued his flight for a minute or so, until he became convinced that the engine was on the point of breaking down utterly. He had been preparing himself for the possibility, but found himself in a serious difficulty now that the problem actually faced him. The valley at the point which he had reached was broader than at the mine, and not so rocky or broken up as it was in many other parts. But it offered few spots where even the most intrepid and experienced airman would care to risk a descent. The banks of the river were covered with thick scrub and bushes; here and there on the hill-side there were patches of brushwood and small clumps of trees; everywhere the ground was broken. But it was no time for picking and choosing. If he had not begun to plane down by the time the engine finally failed, the chances were that he would be smashed to pieces.
Casting an anxious look on the ground, he decided to make for an open space between two belts of woodland. He could not tell whether it was as level as it seemed; all that he was sure of was that it allowed room for alighting and was free from considerable obstructions.
The problem of descent had so fully occupied him that not until he had actually begun the vol plané did he remember with a thrill of consternation the dynamite bombs at his feet. For a moment his brain seemed paralysed; then, as he realized the full measure of his peril, he braced himself to deal with it. If the ground proved to be less smooth than it seemed, the shock of alighting might well be severe enough to explode the dynamite. Then, instead of a broken chassis or a wrenched stay, and a few bruises--the slight mishaps that had befallen many an airman--the result would be the complete shattering of the aeroplane and himself. The only way of safety was to jettison the bombs, and he instantly stooped to pick them up one by one and cast them over the side. There followed a series of detonations like pistol-shots much magnified, each louder than the one before. The bombs fell behind the aeroplane as it descended in a gliding swoop, and Lawrence was now beset by a new anxiety: whether, maintaining his control of the machine, he could get rid of the bombs fast enough to escape risk of damage by the explosions as he neared the ground. There would have been little or no danger if he had been flying at speed; but his downward course being at a rather large angle, the closer he came to the ground, the nearer he would be to the scene of the last explosion.
A spectator would have had a poor opinion of the airmanship of the pilot whose machine was descending so unsteadily. To control planes, elevator, and rudder; to keep an eye on the ground; and at the same time to cast the bombs overboard: all these simultaneous tasks put a severe strain upon his nerve, agility, and judgment. He got rid of the last bomb within about thirty feet of the ground, and immediately shifted the elevator to avoid a too sudden landing. It was fortunate that he checked the descent when he did; but he was too near the ground to escape altogether. The force of the explosion set the aeroplane rocking as in a gale of wind. He was enveloped in a cloud of smoke and dust and fragments of rock. For a moment or two he lost control of the machine, and instead of alighting evenly, one side hit the ground first, and it toppled over. Lawrence was flung out. As he rose dizzily to his feet, he thought himself lucky to have escaped with a few bruises and a pain in his left ankle, which had apparently been turned over as he fell.
When he regained his scattered wits he limped to the aeroplane, and looked at it ruefully. At first sight it appeared to be wrecked, but on examining it more closely he was relieved to find that the damage was such as could be repaired with a little care. The left side of the chassis was twisted; some of the stays were broken, and the left-hand plane was badly ripped.
"A narrow squeak," he said to himself. "And now what on earth is to be done?"
He sat down and felt his sprained ankle. It was very tender to the touch, and he realized that he could not set off on foot to meet the Major, but must remain until he arrived. At a guess he had come about twenty-five miles from the mine. The Major could not be nearer than ten miles. He could not expect to see him for three hours at least. The whole prospect was gloomy. The aeroplane could only be repaired at the mine, and it was quite impossible for the three sowars and Fazl to transport it over twenty-five miles of a narrow and difficult track. It seemed as if the machine must be left where it lay until men could be fetched from the mine to take it to pieces, and that would need Bob's superintendence. The proposed flight to the British post was out of the question, and he knew the Major well enough to be sure that he would revert to his original intention of making the journey on horseback, alone. Altogether it was a desperately vexatious plight.
And then he remembered the Kalmucks, whom for the time he had forgotten. He had seen nothing of them either going or coming, but unless they had struck across the hills, which was unlikely, they must be very near to where he now was. They could not fail to have heard the successive explosions of the bombs, so that they would be on the alert. They might have seen the descent of the aeroplane from their lurking places among the rocks, and if they should guess that he had come to grief, they would have him at their mercy. As soon as his thoughts took this direction Lawrence got up and unstrapped his rifle from the aeroplane. He took his revolver from his pocket; it was uninjured. Then lifting his field-glass he swept the surrounding country for signs of the enemy.
He had to admit to himself that his position could scarcely be worse. The spot on which he had landed was fairly open, but it was surrounded by broken ground that would give ample cover to an enemy. On two sides, up- and down-stream, the clumps of woodland approached to within a hundred yards. Below him, not far away, was the river, lined on both banks with a thick fringe of brushwood and rushes. Above, the hill rose gently for a great distance, but it was very rugged, broken by contorted fissures, through some of which rivulets zigzagged swiftly down to the river. He swept the country again and again with his glass, and took some comfort from the absence of any sign of man; but there were so many places where the Kalmucks might be in hiding that he thought it wise to seek some secluded spot himself, where he would be better able than on the open ground to guard against surprise.
He rose and limped up the slope of the hill. After a little search, he discovered a hollow about forty yards above the aeroplane, from which he could take a bird's-eye view of the ground, and where he had a certain amount of shelter. Thither he carried his rifle, a basket of food and a flask of water, and lay down to wait with what patience he might for the coming of Major Endicott.
It was now midday, and the sun was very hot. For some time he kept a sharp look-out, examining the country every few minutes through his field-glass, and creeping from side to side of the hollow so as to extend and change his view. Presently, however, the great heat and his failure to discover any trace of the enemy caused him to relax his vigilance. He was very tired; whenever he moved, his ankle gave him much pain; and, as at the bridge during his night watch, an oppressive drowsiness stole upon him, which he found it impossible to shake off. He would nod, recover himself, vow that it should not happen again, and in another minute his head would fall forward, and he opened his eyes bedazed and scarcely realizing where he was. Then once more he raised the glass to his eyes, and gazed around almost mechanically, only to go through the same series of nods and starts again.
Recovering himself after a more prolonged fit of dozing, he rubbed his eyes, pinched himself, and threw a glance around. His sluggish faculties were quickened by the sight of something moving in the thin brushwood at the edge of the northern clump. He quickly lifted his glass and directed it at the spot, but saw nothing suspicious, and supposed that either he had been mistaken, or that the moving object had been some animal which he need not trouble about. But the momentary suspicion banished his drowsiness; now wide awake, he sat with his back against the rock, fixing his eyes on the scene in front of him.
Presently he started. Beyond doubt a figure had run from tree to tree on the hill-side to the right, a little above him. By the time he had levelled his glass on the spot the figure had disappeared. He reached for his rifle, and crouched low in the hollow, peering over its edge. Next moment his attention was again caught by a movement in the clump of wood where he had first noticed it. This time he could see, even with the naked eye, the form of a man bending low. Almost immediately afterwards another half-perceived movement caused him to look towards a spot midway between the wood and the place on the hill-side where he had seen the first form. The top of a skin hat was projecting above a knob of rock there.
"Stalking, by George!" he said to himself.
His first instinct was to seize his rifle; his second to look around for some way of escape. It was possible that the Kalmucks had not yet discovered him, though the aeroplane was full in their view; and if he could only creep among the shrubs into some deep fissure he might yet elude them. He might even make a dash for it, gain the clump of trees to the south, and push on to meet Major Endicott. The enemy would probably waste some time in searching for him--enough to give him a good start. But he saw at a glance that he could not reach the trees without crossing the open ground in sight of the enemy, and partially crippled as he was he could not hope to outstrip them, even if they did not use in the pursuit the horses which they had had when they slipped past the mine. His only course was to stay where he was, hoping with good luck to remain undiscovered. In the last resort he could do some execution among them with his weapons, though the odds of numbers against him precluded any idea of his being able to keep them off permanently.
At that moment he was more concerned about the fate of the aeroplane than about his own. It would be of no use to the enemy; they would probably destroy it, and that prospect enraged him. For the first time he felt a real desire to fight and slay, and wondered whether, when the enemy came into the open, he might not pick them off one by one. After all, he thought, his position in the hollow gave him some advantage. They could not take good aim at him, whereas if they attempted to rush him across the open space, he could mark them down almost at his leisure.
His reflections were suddenly cut short by a rifle-shot. A bullet struck the ground unpleasantly near him, and sent up a spurt of earth, some of which struck him. He crouched still lower in the hollow. Escape was now out of the question: he must simply wait and take what opening of defending himself offered.
The shot had been fired from the clump of wood. Immediately afterwards the man on the hill-side stood erect in the attitude of taking aim. Lawrence hastily levelled his rifle and took a rough shot at him, with what effect he could not tell, for his attention was at once called off by a rush of the man in the wood, who dashed forward over several yards towards a patch of bush nearer to the hollow. Lawrence felt that his position was even worse than he had supposed. The enemy had scattered with a definite plan. They meant to work their way gradually towards him under cover, distracting him by firing in turn, until they thought it possible to overwhelm him with a final rush from several sides. He wished he had acted on his first impulse to sprint towards the wood on the south. Was it possible even now to do it? A sudden twinge in his ankle gave him the answer. They had him in a trap.
[image]THE KALMUCKS MAKE A PRISONER
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THE KALMUCKS MAKE A PRISONER
And then he saw something flickering by a tree up the hill-side. It seemed to be a piece of cloth. Was it a flag of truce? While he was watching it there was a patter of feet behind him. Three men had risen as it were out of the earth southwards of the hollow. Before he could rise they flung themselves upon him. He was dashed to the ground. He made desperate efforts to free himself, writhing, kicking, trying to free one of his hands to use his revolver. But they pinned him down: one snatched his revolver from him, the others held him firmly by the neck and feet, and when his hopeless struggles ceased they whipped off their leather girdles and tied him up so that he was unable to move. Then they turned him on his back, uttering guttural grunts of satisfaction, and he looked up into the malicious faces of Nurla Bai and Black Jack.
CHAPTER THE TWENTIETH
A FRIEND IN NEED
Even a philosopher, we know, cannot bear the toothache patiently. Every one has at one time or another recognized in himself the unphilosophic tendency to feel irritation at some trivial thing--a speck of mud on one's clean collar, a hair in one's soup. We have all been much more deeply annoyed by a slight blemish or mishap than troubled at a really grave misfortune.
The plight in which Lawrence now found himself was serious enough to justify an access of rage or despair. But it was not his capture or his bonds that inflicted the severest pang upon his self-esteem. It was the sight of Nurla Bai and his dwarfish henchman making free with the sardine sandwiches which Shan Tai had put up for his especial delectation.
When they had bound him, the three Kalmucks glanced around, spied the basket a few feet away, and rushed at it with cries of delight. Lawrence looked on in disgust as they wolfed the eatables--too delicate for their untutored palates, too unsubstantial to appease their ravenous appetite. He felt a thrill of joy when, on the remainder of the party coming up, until there were nine altogether, the new arrivals clamoured for a share, and began to push and snatch just as he had seen a flock of greedy sparrows pecking at one another over a single crust. But though these thieves were falling out, there was no chance of the honest man coming by his own.
The contents of the basket soon disappeared, and the men looked round wolfishly for more. At sight of the aeroplane hope flashed upon them, and with one consent they ran to realize it. Lawrence could no longer see them over the edge of the hollow, but he heard their shouts of glee, the creaking of basket lids, and then the steady smacking of eighteen busy lips as they fell upon the viands provided for Major Endicott and his men. He was very angry. He felt not a touch of sympathy for them in their famishment. To him they were merely gluttons, not starving fellow-creatures.
During their absence he tried to wriggle out of his bonds, but the work had been well done, and he lay still, wondering what was to become of him. They had not killed him: he was suddenly aware of that agreeable fact, though his pleasure in it was damped when he foresaw a possible long captivity. While they gulped and gloated his thoughts ran round a ring. Would they carry him on with them, going southward? Then they would meet Major Endicott, and there would be a fight. If they, fortified by his own food, should get the upper hand, he would still be their helpless prisoner. If they were beaten, it would be consistent with Nurla Bai's ferocious temper to kill him before taking to flight. Either way, his case would be deplorable.
Presently the men came back to him, still munching and smacking their lips. A villainous crew they looked. Besides Nurla Bai and Black Jack, there were two other miners; the rest, differently and more martially clad, were evidently part of the advancing force. They sat down at the edge of the hollow, chewing the cud of excellent victuals and of sweet exaltation of mind. Lawrence writhed as he realized how completely these ruffians had outwitted him. The men in front of him a while ago had been simply holding his attention, while the others crept upon him from behind. It was humiliating--one more proof, he thought, that he was certainly not cut out for a soldier.
At first the men did nothing but grunt, like pigs that have gorged themselves. Their little eyes rested on their prisoner indolently, as though he were an object of no importance. By and by they began to talk to one another, and then to throw taunting and insolent remarks at him. His knowledge of the niceties of abuse of which their tongue was capable was limited, but he understood enough to make his blood boil. But he discreetly held his peace: he would not flatter them by bandying abuse.
When they had thus enjoyed themselves for a while, Nurla Bai rose, and planted himself within a few feet of Lawrence.
"What is the good of the great hummingbird now?" he said with a sneer. "Those that hunt partridges ought not to make a noise."
It flashed upon Lawrence that the man supposed that the aeroplane had been in pursuit of him. Evidently he was unaware that a party was marching down the track towards the mine. It was just as well to flatter his error. Lawrence made no reply.
"The little tins missed their mark," Nurla Bai went on. "Too much haste spoils the hunt. The hawk has broken its wing, I perceive. Perhaps it can be mended?"
Lawrence reflected that by telling the truth he might gain a little time and save the aeroplane from destruction.
"Yes; it can be mended," he said, "but not here. The damage is slight, but the machine is quite useless as it is."
The Kalmuck sat looking at him, apparently following out a train of thought.
"How long might it take a man to learn how to use the wings?" he said at length.
Lawrence caught the drift of the question.
"Perhaps six months, perhaps a year," he said. "It depends on the man."
Nurla Bai looked disappointed; clearly he had hoped to appropriate the machine, get it mended, and then make instant use of it. He considered for a little, and then said--
"The hunter is caught in his own toils. You are now as my servant, to do whatsoever I command. It is a change. Give me the mine: I give you the machine."
"That is foolishness. Bob Sahib will never give up the mine."
"We shall see," said the man with a leer. "When he beholds you in my hands, and knows that if he refuses you will be shot, and the machine broken up, I think he will be wise."
At this Lawrence saw a ray of hope in the situation. If they took him back to the mine as a hostage, Major Endicott would discover the abandoned aeroplane and push on with all speed. But he soon discovered that his captors had no intention of abandoning the aeroplane. Nurla Bai no doubt reckoned on the sight of it in his hands having a very potent effect on the other sahib at the mine. After a consultation among themselves, the men went into the wood, and began to fell some of the smaller trees, and to lop branches from the larger. In a short time they had collected a considerable quantity. They carried these down to the river, and set about binding them into a raft with rushes and rods of osier. When this was done, they hauled the aeroplane to it, placed it in the middle, and proceeded to weave a long grass rope, which they attached to the rear of the raft. Then one of the men, carrying a straight sapling, mounted behind the aeroplane, and the whole contrivance was pushed into the stream.
The Kalmucks gave a shout of satisfaction on seeing the raft float down with the current. Two men held the rope to check its speed in the more rapid reaches of the river. The man upon it used his pole to fend it off rocks and snags. The others fetched their horses from the wood in which they had been tethered. On one of these Lawrence was mounted, with his hands still tied. Black Jack rode alongside, firmly grasping the bridle. Thus, when the afternoon was already far advanced, they began the march in the direction of the mine.
Lawrence had not looked on without expostulation at the handling of the aeroplane, but Nurla Bai ignored his protests. When he saw it swaying and jolting on the raft, he expected it to be irretrievably ruined before it had gone many miles on its course. The river, everywhere rapid, became a torrent in the gorges; and at these narrow places Lawrence anticipated that the raft would be whirled and cast about utterly beyond control, driven on one bank or the other, or smashed on some rock in mid-stream. But he discovered that the Kalmucks had been as much alive to the risks as he was himself, and his opinion of Nurla Bai rose. Just before coming to a gorge, they drew the raft to the bank, lifted the aeroplane, and carried it overland until the river broadened again. The man with the pole remained by the raft until his comrades were a long way in advance; then he let it race down the gorge unchecked and followed it along the bank, to find that it had been recovered at the further end.
The party had been marching for about an hour when they were met by three other Kalmucks, tramping wearily up the track on foot. Lawrence recognized them as miners. They had either not been furnished with horses by the advanced guard beyond the mine, or had had their steeds shot under them during the scamper in the darkness. Nurla Bai gave these hungry men a portion of the provisions that were still left, and they turned about and marched with the rest down-stream. The journey was continued until the growing darkness rendered further advance impossible. Mooring the raft to a tree on the bank, the men prepared to camp for the night, on a moss-covered space just above. Lawrence was lifted from the horse; his feet were again tied; and he was laid in the centre of the encampment. The horses were tethered in a copse hard by, and when a fire had been lighted a few yards northward of the bivouac, the men disposed themselves in a wide circle about their prisoner, and devoted themselves to the remnants of the provisions. No one offered Lawrence a share--a lack of courtesy which did not trouble him. No one spoke to him; but there was no charm in their conversation. They scarcely even looked at him; he suffered nothing from their neglect. He wished they would not eat so noisily; and when, having gobbled the last scraps of the food intended for Major Endicott and his party, they sat with their knees up, and chattered across him in their rasping voices, he felt that no one could be said to have a complete experience of the minor troubles of life who had not been an enforced companion of Kalmucks.
A great deal of what they said was incomprehensible to him, but he caught a phrase now and then that interested him in spite of himself. One concerned his uncle. Nurla Bai was apparently relating, for the benefit of the strangers from the north, the doughty deeds he had recently performed. Among them he ranked the shooting of the Englishman who had been his employer. From what he said, Lawrence gathered that the disappearance of Mr. Appleton was as great a disappointment to the miners as to himself. They joked about it, however; Nurla Bai became facetious as he described the consternation of the fishes as they beheld the body of an Englishman, strange monster, sinking into their midst. It was fortunate that Lawrence did not understand the idiomatic beastliness with which the man depicted the gruesome feast then celebrated on the stony bottom of the river.
Another flight of the Kalmuck's fancy afforded him much amusement. Nurla Bai gave rein to his eloquence in picturing the scenes that Delhi was soon to witness: Ubacha Khan sitting in state on the ancient throne of the Moguls, withering with his frown the throng of cowed and shivering Englishmen who grovelled at his feet, and beslobbered them with tears as they pleaded vainly for mercy. Lawrence heard for the first time of the exquisite tortures which Mongol ingenuity could devise for helpless prisoners; and while he was amused at the picture conjured up of British officers suing a new Mogul emperor for pardon, he was horrified at the mere imagination of the cruelties which these wretches discussed with such gloating inhumanity.
Lying on his back, he could see half the ring of his captors, their squat forms silhouetted against the glow of the camp-fire, their yellow faces blanched by the moonlight now flooding the valley. He raised his eyes to the hills beyond, watching the magical play of the silvery radiance upon the peaks and promontories, making the snow sparkle; searching, as it were, the black crannies and caverns. But he soon found his interest in this wonderful illumination yield to his sense of cold. This region was one of extremes of temperature: the torrid heat of day being succeeded by Arctic cold at night. The Kalmucks did not appear conscious of it; they were inured to the climate; but to Lawrence, compelled to lie motionless, the chilliness became painful, and the warm glow of the camp-fire mocked him tantalizingly.
He was to prove, this night, the contrariness of fate. Twice before, when he had wished above all things to keep awake, drowsiness had overcome him; now, when he would have given anything for the oblivion of sleep, physical discomfort and the burden of his thoughts banished sleep from his eyes. The Kalmucks became less talkative as the night wore on; presently their voices ceased altogether, and they slept. Lawrence preferred their snores to their conversation; they formed a descant to the unvarying ground bass of the river droning below. Every now and then the cry of a night-bird in the mountains added its shrill treble to the harmony.
The moon sank behind the crest of the hills; black darkness stole over the valley; and the untended watch-fire sank lower and lower, until its glow was too faint even to show up the slumbering forms of the Kalmucks. Lawrence might have wondered that they had not set a watch but for his knowledge that they were quite unsuspicious of the enemy higher up the stream, and that his bonds were only too firm. His thoughts flitted to Major Endicott and his little band; where were they now? How did they regard his failure to return to them? Had they, too, encamped for the night? Was there the least possibility that the hours spent in stalking him and in constructing the raft would have given them time to draw so near that with morning light they would come upon the encampment, or overtake the Kalmucks during the ensuing day? And what was to be the final issue of all these strange events? Would he, or Bob, ever come out of the entanglement in which they had been so suddenly involved?
His anxious meditation was broken short by a slight sound behind him. He turned his head--it was the only part of his body that he could move--and stretched his ear towards the spot whence the sound had seemed to come. Perhaps it was one of the Kalmucks stirring in his sleep--rising, possibly, to cast fuel upon the dying fire. He could see nothing. Twisting his neck until it ached, he tried to pierce the blackness, listening keenly for a repetition of the sound. He heard only the regular snores of the men sleeping nine or ten feet away.
But there seemed to be something moving between him and them--a something darker than the night itself, creeping along the ground. It could not be a wild animal; no ibex, nor even a bear unless pressed by hunger, would have come within the scent of him; there were no tigers or leopards in these regions; could it be a man?--one of his own people? Tingling with a flush of hope, he lay perfectly still, fearful lest even the beating of his heart should betray his excitement to the enemy.
There was a rustling movement near him; it seemed to come nearer; then he shuddered involuntarily as he felt something touch him. It flashed upon him that one of the Kalmucks was going to murder him, and for a moment he had to exercise stern control over his nerves to repress a cry. A cold shiver trickled down his back, and he broke out in a clammy sweat as he felt a rough hand pass over him--over his face, aside to his arms, down to his feet. He durst not utter a sound, hope and fear jostling in his brain.
The hand left him. There was a moment of suspense. Then in his ear breathed a whisper.
"Sahib, lie still!"
He felt the hand again, then a pressure upon his arm--a pressure that increased and diminished in rapid alternation. He throbbed with joy. Some one--was it Fazl?--was sawing at his bonds. The sound made by the knife or sword was scarcely perceptible; yet to his feverish apprehension it seemed loud enough to waken the heaviest sleeper. Soon he was conscious that his arms were free, and he ventured to move them stealthily to ease them of their numbness. The pressure was transferred to his feet, and after some moments of quivering anxiety he felt that these also were released from their bonds. Then cold metal touched his hand, and his eager fingers clasped over a grooved hilt.
"Sahib, a minute to rest, then follow me," whispered the voice.
He could hardly endure the waiting, though he knew it was intended to give him command of his limbs.
"Sahib, now!"
He raised himself on all fours, and began to creep after his deliverer, a black form crawling towards the ring of sleeping Kalmucks.
The Gurkha--for it was he--had almost passed between and beyond the two men who lay stretched towards the track, when a hand shot out and gripped him by the ankle. At the same moment the owner of the hand gave a shout, his companions started up, and Bob leapt to his feet. As soon as he felt the touch upon him, Fazl wriggled like a snake, his right hand groping towards the dark form beneath him. There was a groan, and he stood free.
A foot or two behind him, Bob came to a halt when he dimly saw the two figures writhing on the ground. When one of them sprang up, he was not sure for the moment whether it was friend or foe. A murmured word reassured him, and he was ready to go on. But his way was blocked. Roused by their comrade's cry, the Kalmucks hurled themselves in a shouting mass across the open space. One of them kicked up the embers of the expiring fire, and a dull glow illuminated the scene. It lent aid to the fugitives, who were themselves in shadow. But for his sprained ankle Lawrence could have sprinted away into the darkness; Fazl might by this time have been out of harm's way, but the little man, perplexed and anxious at his master's dilatoriness, turned to his assistance. Lawrence had been checked by a man who sprang at him from the left. He had no time to swing round and bring into play the right hand clutching Fazl's knife; but, instinctively shooting out his left hand, by good luck he got home upon his opponent's chin. There was little 'body' in the blow, delivered so rapidly and at such close quarters; yet his muscles were hard, and the man staggered and fell in a heap.
At this moment Fazl rushed to his side, in time to engage a group of the enemy who had now got their bearings and were rushing towards him. That moss-carpeted enclosure was the scene of a struggle as extraordinary as it was short. The little Gurkha twirled and twisted, sprang high, bent low, legs and arms gyrating with a rapidity that the eye of a spectator could scarcely have followed. It was as though some infuriated gnome had sprung out of the bowels of the earth, and was executing a fantastic dance among men bewildered by his demoniacal antics. But it was a dance of death. The red glow of the newly rekindled fire flashed upon a terrible kukuri, which whirled in circles, ovals, parabolas, and fifty unnamed curves, carving intricate luminous patterns on the night. Nor were these evolutions purposeless: every stroke of the keen nimble blade was directed by the keener mind of the man wielding it. Here it struck up a knife, there a rifle; now it pierced a shoulder, now grazed a head; so swift in its darting movements that it seemed multiplied into a dozen weapons each barbed with fire.
While the Gurkha was thus in the ecstasy of sword-play, keeping half the party of Kalmucks urgently engaged, Lawrence was in difficulties. The knife given him by Fazl was no doubt sharp and deadly, but it was a weapon to whose use no Englishman is bred, and demanded, though not so much free space as a sword, yet a certain amount of elbow room for its effective employment. Lawrence had only just felled his first assailant when he was himself beset by two or three at once. Half conscious of stinging sensations in arm and thigh he lashed out with left fist and right hand grasping the knife, but lost his footing, stumbled, and fell to the ground with his aggressors on top of him, snarling like wolves. He found himself with his left hand gripping one of them by the throat: his own right wrist was held as in a vice. Struggling to wrench himself free, he rolled over, dragging the panting enemy with him, their movements carrying them nearer and nearer to the camp-fire; and in a sudden flicker of light he recognized the savage features of Black Jack.
In sheer muscular strength he was no match for the Kalmuck dwarf. Under the crushing pressure of Black Jack's fierce grip his hold on the knife was relaxing: the weapon was slipping from him. His hold upon the man's throat weakened; the Kalmuck was digging his nails into his left arm. As the under dog he was not able to cope with the man pressing him down. The knife dropped to the ground; his wrist was suddenly released; he felt a bony hand at his own throat, and had given himself up for lost, when a wild discordant clamour broke out close by, drowning all other sounds. For an instant Black Jack was perfectly still: then, wrenching himself away, he sprang to his feet and leapt into the darkness.
Lawrence got up more slowly, every muscle and nerve quivering. He had just seen that the space around was empty of living men, when a film seemed to fall upon his eyes. He tottered, and sank fainting upon the ground.
When he reopened his eyes, the flush of morning lay upon the valley. He raised his head.
"That's right," said Major Endicott, stepping from behind him. "How do you feel?"
"Rather groggy, Major," replied Lawrence. "Those fellows struck me, I think."
"A gash or two: nothing to speak of. What bowled you over was hunger and fatigue, I suspect. We've got a few scraps left, which will keep you going until we reach your mine."
"Is Fazl all right?"
"As jolly as a sandboy, though rather dilapidated. It's lucky I carry a case of sticking plaster with me; he's pretty considerably patched--much more than you are. You slept pretty soundly through my amateur surgery."
"And the Kalmucks?"
"Gone elsewhere--all that were left of them. That machine of yours played you false then?"
"Yes, the engine failed, and I had to come down. I was rather bothered with getting rid of my bombs and controlling the thing at the same time, and made a hash of it--sprained my ankle, too. I was waiting for you, and the beggars stalked me. I was a silly ass to let them take me unawares."
"What were they going to do with you?"
"Offer me and the aeroplane in exchange for the mine--as if Bob would listen to any rot like that!
"Well, the aeroplane isn't worth much now, I suspect, but I fancy Bob might be disposed to think you good value for the mine. However, that's all off. The aeroplane's done for, of course?"
"Not a bit of it. We can put it to rights in a day."
"Warrant it?"
"Yes. Our bargain holds if you'll risk it. I'm more than sorry this happened, if it's going to dish your plan, Major."
"It shan't do that. Taking risks is part of my job--and yours too, as it happens."
"I'm jolly glad you came up when you did. In another minute you would have been too late."
"You've got to thank your Gurkha for that. We were marching up pretty briskly--had no trouble from the Afghans--and the Gurkha declared he heard the sound of your bombs far ahead. None of us had heard anything, but the little chap was so positive that I thought we'd be on the safe side and hurry up. Judging by the march we made, the sound must have travelled nearly ten miles--not impossible in this air, I suppose; I confess I was sceptical at first, and only began to feel anxious when you didn't return within the time stated.
"We came upon the tracks of the aeroplane some miles up; there was litter of all sorts about--scraps of food, broken branches and what not, and I feared you'd smashed yourself and your machine, only we couldn't find any pieces of it. But we found your rifle and field-glass in a little hollow, and the Gurkha guessed that you had tumbled among the Kalmucks. An hour after dark we caught sight of the camp-fire. The Gurkha volunteered to creep up and reconnoitre, so the rest of us halted, waiting for his report.
"He's a clever little chap, with a double dose of Gurkha courage. He came back very soon and told me he'd seen you tied up among them, and about the raft and so on. My sowars wanted to rush the place, but it struck me that that might be the end of you. The first instinct of such barbarians would be to knife their prisoner. It was a bit of a quandary--and the Gurkha came out strong again. It was his suggestion that he should creep into the camp and release you before we moved."
"Plucky little chap!" said Lawrence warmly.
"A treasure! The noise of the scuffle brought us up hot-foot, and the only thing I regret is that, as the Gurkha informed me, the ringleaders, those rascally miners of yours, got away.... Now the sooner we get to your mine the better. You had better sit my horse. As all our food is gone, we shall have a strong motive for hurry, so we ought to get home before night. Of course if you think you can't stand it we'll take our time."
"No: I'm fit enough. Your men will look after the raft?"
He explained the method by which the aeroplane had been taken safely past the gorges, and the Major went off to instruct his men.
Lawrence summoned Fazl, who was resting on a grassy knoll overlooking the river.
"I owe you my life; you're a brave fellow, and I thank you," he said.
Fazl's plastered face broadened in a grin.
"Wah! sahib, the Kalmucks are pigs, and their hearts melt like butter. The sahib's servant is unworthy of praise. It is a small thing to do for the heaven-born."