The Air Patrol Part 15

Slowing down a little, but without altering his course, Bob looked in the same direction. The country was now bathed in sunlight; the air was clear; but he could perceive nothing to account for his companion's excitement. He had faith enough in the man's intelligence, however, to wheel round once more, and steer away from the valley.

"What is it, Fazl?" he asked.

"Tents, sahib; many tents, like flowers in a field."

It was at least a minute before Bob's less keen eyes were able to confirm the man's strange announcement. Then he recognized that a huge brown patch, which he might well have mistaken for an outcrop of rock, or some other natural feature of the landscape, was in reality an aggregation of nomad tents, similar to those which he had pa.s.sed on the hill-side behind.

If he had felt dismay at the sight of the force a.s.sembled in the valley, his feeling now bordered on stupefaction. His brain was in a whirl.

The misdeeds of Nurla Bai were as a pebble cast into a pond. The spreading circles had embraced a troop of Kalmuck hors.e.m.e.n, then a regiment, finally what appeared to be an army. The motive had developed from the spite and revenge of a single man to the greed of a company, and now--to what? Surely the inhabitants of this vast array of tents were not a.s.sembled for the puny purpose of snapping up a solitary silver mine. What design had brought them to this remote and barren tract in a desolate land?

[Ill.u.s.tration: RECONNOITRING IN THE AEROPLANE]

These were questions to which Bob was utterly unable to guess at the answers. His surprise and alarm did but increase as he approached the scene. Around a point where a small tributary joined the river from the south-east, extended a large bare s.p.a.ce several miles in area. Of this open tract a portion that must have been at least a square mile in area, bounded on one side by the left bank of the tributary and on the other by the right bank of the river, was dotted with a series of encampments, arranged in regular order, and looking in the distance not unlike a kind of chess-board. Counting them as he drew nearer, Bob found that there were twenty of these separate camps. As he approached the nearest, he tried to number the rows of tents, and the individual tents in each row.

But his pace was too swift and his mind too bewildered to allow of an exact reckoning. His impression was that there were twenty rows of tents about ten deep. The tents were apparently small; if he were not deceived by the distance, none of them could harbour more than five or six men. But as his eye ranged over the whole encampment, and he made a rapid calculation, he came to the staggering conclusion that the total force there on the ground beneath him could not be far short of twenty thousand men.

CHAPTER THE ELEVENTH

THE FIGHT AT THE BRIDGE

In the first moments of this amazing discovery, Bob's mind was confused by the multiplicity of his sensations and imaginings. There were several problems all clamouring at once for solution: his uncle's fate, the plight of Lawrence, the future of the mine. But he soon realized that no good result would come of aimless conjectures; "One thing at a time, and concentrate your attention" had been the motto dinned into him by one of his schoolmasters. The one insistent thing now was to learn all that he could about this encampment--too large to be a fortuitous gathering of nomads, too regular to be other than military in its organization.

Bob flew straight for the camp, and when he came above its centre he began to circle round and round with the object of getting a clear and orderly idea of its nature. Observation from the great height to which he had risen was not easy, and the necessity of keeping part of his attention upon the aeroplane was a drawback. Naturally he could not entrust the machine to Fazl, who was making his first flight. On the other hand the Gurkha, who was wholly without nervousness, could devote himself entirely to the task of observing. Thus, combining what Fazl reported with what he was himself able to see, Bob obtained in the course of twenty minutes a pretty good notion of the disposition of the camp and the various movements that were going on.

To the north, a large body of hors.e.m.e.n, who were exercising when he first caught sight of them, came to a halt, and were evidently intent on watching the flying machine. Still farther northward, long trains of primitive ox wagons were lumbering towards the camp, with a caravan of camels here and there. Attached to the body of cavalry on the plain there were no fewer than six batteries of field artillery. There was no regular road into or out of this solitary region, but from the appearance of the ground it was clear that the army had reached its present position from the north-west. There was a narrower and fainter track leading from the camp in the direction of the valley--no doubt the route followed by the men now posted on the river bank.

It was inevitable that the sight of the aeroplane, wheeling over the encampment in regular circles, should arouse lively curiosity and excitement among the throngs of men below. Its appearance was greeted at first with shouts either of surprise or alarm. Bob had twice made the circuit before any action was taken: apparently the spectators had not made up their minds as to the nature of this strange visitor, or were waiting for orders. But as he began to circle for the third time a change came over the scene. His systematic movements forced upon the men the notion that he was scouting, spying upon them; and as soon as this was realized they came to the conclusion that he was an enemy who must be dealt with. At first there were a few scattered shots; then regular volleys; at last an almost continuous crackle of musketry. By this time Bob had discovered all that was possible from his alt.i.tude, and feeling that nothing was to be gained by running risks, he decided to swing round and head for the valley.

The marksmanship of the enemy's riflemen had not been such as to alarm him hitherto; but it was a different matter when, soon after he turned, the aeroplane became the target of one of the field batteries. Hearing the deeper crack of two of the guns, he instantly steered to the left, to gain a minute's grace while the guns were being trained in the new direction. No third shot was fired; the gunners evidently recognized that the odds were all against their hitting him. At the same time a troop of horse who had started at a gallop in pursuit reined up; since the guns were ineffectual it was not worth while chasing him on the chance of a sudden mishap bringing him to the ground.

Another five minutes brought him to the entrance of the valley. He still maintained a great height until he had pa.s.sed over the encampment on the lull-side; then, instructing Fazl to wave the red handkerchief as they flew over the bridge, he executed a steep vol plane down to the neighbourhood of the rocks held by Lawrence and the Pathans. It went altogether against the grain to skim over the open s.p.a.ce without landing; but he knew that he could not have done so without becoming the mark for hundreds of bullets. No other course was open to him than to adhere to the plan already arranged with Lawrence, and sweep on up the gorge towards the mine.

Another cheer greeted him from the little party below. All, then, was still well with them. Accepting the signal of the red flag, Lawrence would now withdraw his men, and hasten up the track as swiftly as possible. No doubt he would get a mount behind one of the Pathans.

That pursuit by the enemy would be doubly difficult Bob recognized when he noticed--what had escaped his observation as he flew down-stream--that the handrail of the bridge had now disappeared. There was no means of crossing the river at this point. He supposed that Lawrence, during the night, had taken the precaution to cut the rope.

This was rea.s.suring; it seemed to show that Lawrence, though without military training and, as he himself had said, without military instincts, yet was possessed of readiness and common sense, qualities of much value both to soldiers and civilians.

At the same time Bob was rather loth to leave his brother to deal with the enemy alone, in case they managed in some unimaginable way to cross the river. He felt tempted to land somewhere within a few miles of the bridge, and return on foot to take command of the party. But on second thoughts this seemed to him a short-sighted policy. Though he could not conceive that this army corps was directed against the Appleton mine, the situation clearly demanded that he should return and a.s.sist in completing the havildar's arrangements for the defence. The capture of the mine might be regarded by the enemy as a trifling exploit by the way. It was particularly important that the large force of Kalmuck miners should be disposed of. They, if they realized the position, held the key of the situation. There was little doubt that with a sudden rush they could scatter the few Pathans now left at the mine, in the teeth of the Sikh garrison. They would then be able to cut off the retreat of Lawrence and his party, trapped between the Kalmuck miners and their countrymen advancing up the valley. It was imperative, then, that he should get back to the mine as quickly as possible, and his uneasiness at leaving Lawrence was partially removed when, a dozen miles from the bridge, he met the party of Pathans whom he had dispatched overnight. Yet, if he could have foreseen the events of the next few hours, he would have cast to the winds all questions of policy, and risked a descent.

As he flew over the bridge, there had been nothing, except the broken rope, to indicate that any change had taken place in the situation since he left the spot on the previous evening. But Lawrence, during the hours of darkness, had in fact pa.s.sed through the most exciting experience of his life.

When Bob sailed away up the gorge, and as soon as the humming of his propeller could no longer be heard, Lawrence began to carry out his instructions for the night. He felt no little anxiety; indeed, it was a trying position for a lad who found himself, for the first time in his life, faced with difficulties and dangers for which he had had no preparation. But after all, it is character that tells. Lawrence was naturally cool and level-headed; he had been known at school as a "sticker" at cricket; he could wear out half-a-dozen bowlers. His school had taught him lessons of self-reliance, and though he had never been very enthusiastic in the cadet corps, he had won the mark of efficiency, could shoot straight, and had learnt to think quickly and act with prompt.i.tude. So, in spite of a natural nervousness, he saw quite clearly what he had to do, and had grit enough to make up his mind to do it.

He stationed two men behind the rocks near the bridge head, ordering them to fire if they saw the least sign of an attempt to cross. They were to be relieved every two hours. Mindful of Bob's advice, he determined to keep watch all night himself: there was no one to relieve him. Very soon, as night settled deep upon the valley, he began to feel the cold, and thought regretfully of the thick coat lying on his seat in the aeroplane. After the fatigues and wearing anxieties of the day he was not in a condition to face the added strain of a long vigil in the freezing air. He had great difficulty in keeping awake, and when one of the Pathans lent him a saddle cloth in which to wrap himself, he soon discarded it, lest the deceitful warmth should overcome his watchfulness.

He dared not move about, but sat crouched on the ground beside the Pathans with his rifle across his knees, listening for any sign of the approach of the enemy. More than once he had to stir up his companions when they dozed, until he grew tired of it; he would rely on himself, and wake them at the first threatening of danger. But he found it increasingly difficult to resist the soporific influence of the cold, and of the monotonous lullaby sung by the river as it flowed past at the foot of the shelving bank beneath him. Every now and then he got up, stretched himself, and sat down again, not venturing even to slap himself with his arms for fear of putting the enemy on the alert. He gazed up into the sky, and tried to count and to identify the stars, which, in this deep valley, appeared to him, he thought, as they would appear to an observer at the bottom of a well. From time to time he exchanged a few whispered words with his companions, until this resource failed him through their slumberousness. When, at the end of the first two hours, the men were relieved, the circ.u.mstances of the change had the effect of rousing him a little; but the second pair were even more sleepy than the first, and he lacked the energy to be continually prodding them.

At length, when, in spite of his utmost efforts, he was nodding with drowsiness, his ear was suddenly caught by a slight sound beneath him.

He pulled himself together, and listened intently. There was no repet.i.tion of the sound. He began to think that he had been mistaken, or that the sound had been made by some small animal scurrying along the bank. But a few seconds later he heard it again; it was like that of a small stone rolling down the rocky shelf. Now fully awake, he nudged his companions and in a whisper bade them keep quiet and listen. The Pathan pa.s.ses from profound sleep to complete wakefulness in an instant.

They sat erect, all their senses on the alert. For a few moments nothing was heard but the gurgling rush of the river; then with startling suddenness the three watchers were aware that men were scrambling up the slope. They sprang up. Dark shapes were dimly outlined beyond the rocks. The Pathans fired, aiming as it were at shadows. Their shots did not check the rush. In another moment, clubbing their rifles, Lawrence and they were raining blows upon a swarm of figures that seemed to spring out of the black depths beneath them.

Neither Lawrence nor either of the men could afterwards give a lucid account of the confused scramble that ensued. All that they were sure about was that, if they saw a form between them and the river, they hit out at it. It soon became impossible to distinguish friend from foe. In spite of their swift and weighty strokes the enemy, whose number seemed only to increase, pressed ever more closely upon them.

Lawrence had just brought the b.u.t.t of his rifle down with a rattling thud upon what he hoped was a Mongol skull, when the weapon was seized, and he felt himself jerked forward. He clung to the barrel tenaciously, but in trying to hold his own in this tug-of-war he lost his footing, let go the rifle perforce, and found himself rolling, or rather jolting, down the bank. Grasping at the sharp k.n.o.bs of rock, he checked his fall before he came to the water's edge, and lay for an instant to collect himself. It was perhaps a minute since the tussle had begun.

Hitherto the enemy had preserved a remarkable silence. The two Pathans, on the other hand, had raised l.u.s.ty shouts, calling to their companions by name. Roused by the shots, and urged on by their comrades' cries, the Pathans behind the rocks some little distance up-stream came bounding to the rescue. Lawrence heard scrambling footsteps above him; he was kicked in the side by a man coming hastily down the bank, and the sound of splashes near at hand seemed to show that the enemy, in full retreat, were plunging into the river. Their surprise having failed, they had lost heart. Climbing the bank on all fours, Lawrence found his whole party a.s.sembled above. Just as he reached them, the newcomers opened fire upon several figures which they saw swinging themselves over by the rope. At the first shot these men halted, turned, and began frantically to work themselves back towards the farther side. Then Fyz Ali sprang forward on to the tangled debris of the bridge, and with two sweeping strokes of his knife cut the rope in twain. There was a mighty splash, a howl of rage, and then silence.

"What orders, sahib?" said the Pathan. In the short, sharp, confused struggle, the men were unaware of Lawrence's narrow escape, and were no more concerned about him than about themselves. Every one of them bore some mark of the conflict--bruise, abrasion, or knife-cut. Lawrence felt bruised from top to toe. But in the dark no man could see his fellow's wounds, and it would have been thought childish to talk of them.

"We had better stay here for the rest of the night," said Lawrence, in reply to Fyz Ali's question. "You have quite done for the bridge, and it's no use to anybody. But those badmashes got over some other way, and they would do it again if we weren't here to stop them."

"That is true, sahib--if they like to put their fingers into the fire."

"How did they get across? They could hardly swim up against the current."

"Mashallah! Who can say? But we shall know in the morning, sahib."

There was no more dozing that night. The whole party sat nursing their rifles and chatting quietly. Lawrence got the men to relate some of the experiences of their life, and though he could not understand very much of what they said, he recognized that there was a rich mine of anecdote to be drawn upon as soon as he had sufficient command of their language.

The remaining hours of darkness were undisturbed, and at dawn there was no renewal of hostilities. The daylight gave a clue to the means by which the enemy had crossed the river. At the foot of the rocks south of the bridge, near Lawrence's rifle, lay several inflated water-skins. Fyz Ali guessed that the men had crept along the opposite bank to some distance above the bridge, then taken the water, and supporting themselves on the skins, had steered themselves over.

Lawrence wondered whether the enemy had evacuated their position beyond the bend in the track. Attempts to draw their fire were unsuccessful, and he remained in doubt until the pa.s.sing of the aeroplane overhead was saluted with a volley. His doubts being now removed, he waited anxiously for Bob's return. His uncle's fate, never for long absent from his mind, made him uneasy as to his brother's chances of escaping scot-free. As time pa.s.sed, and there was no sign of the aeroplane, he grew more and more restless, imagining all sorts of mishaps that might have occurred. He expected Bob to return within half an hour; it would not take longer to fly to the plateau and back; and his watch having stopped through his immersion on the previous day, he could only guess at the flight of time, with the result that he supposed Bob's absence to have been longer than it really was.

His intense relief when at last he saw the aeroplane in the distant sky, gave way to disquietude again when Bob swooped down towards the bridge within range of the enemy's fire. The fluttering of the red flag was welcome to him, even though he understood it as a sign that the enemy were in considerable force. It was also a signal to retreat to the mine, and he was glad of the chance of stretching his limbs and of soon rejoining his brother. He at once gave orders to the men to return to their horses. They crossed the open s.p.a.ce at the double until they gained the shelter of the screen of rocks. No shots followed them.

There was no horse for Lawrence, but Fyz Ali a.s.sured him that his own mount was capable of bearing a double burden, and he decided to ride behind him until they had got some distance up the track, and then to walk.

He felt that there was no serious risk of pursuit at present. Although the enemy had shown that they could cross the river with the aid of water-skins, they would have great difficulty in bringing their horses over. So he reckoned on getting a long enough start to meet the reinforcements that Bob had promised to send down. Then the combined party, taking advantage of the many defensive positions which the broken ground afforded, could make good their retreat to the mine even against a more numerous enemy in pursuit.

CHAPTER THE TWELFTH

A SKIRMISH ON THE BANK

Lawrence, riding behind Fyz Ali, reflected with rueful amus.e.m.e.nt on the fate which had made him a sort of soldier in his own despite. "I'm not cut out for this kind of job," he thought. "Bob would be elated at having shivered through a night watch, and beaten off an attack. I don't feel particularly jolly; in fact, I feel thoroughly rotten; and there's more to come, worse luck."

It is said that the greatest commanders have felt depressed rather than exalted after a victory; so that, remembering the hardships and anxieties of the past twenty-four hours, one can sympathize with Lawrence Appleton. It did not occur to him that he had come through his recent ordeal with much credit, and he was quite unaware that the Pathans ahead were discussing him as they rode, summing him up, and deciding that the chota sahib was a first-rate fighting man.

After riding at a trot for about half a mile, Lawrence said:

"Now I'll get off and walk, Fyz Ali. The pony's lagging."

"Not so, sahib," replied the man. "I will walk; the sahib is used to a softer life."

"The more reason why I should harden myself."