CHAPTER THE EIGHTH
THE EDGE OF THE STORM
They swung themselves across the river hand over hand on the rope. Onreturning to the aeroplane Bob opened a box of sardines and took out ofa biscuit tin some of the flat bread-cakes baked by the Chinese cook.But neither he nor Lawrence had any appetite. After a few minutesLawrence got up.
"It's no good," he said. "I can't eat, and I can't rest. It would bedifferent if we knew for certain that the old man was gone; it's theuncertainty that's so wearing. Do you see anything of the Pathans?"
Bob took his field-glass and went to the edge of the track, whence hehad a scarcely interrupted view of a mile or more of the valley.
"No, they're not in sight," he said after a minute or two. "Shall we goand meet them?"
"I'm more inclined to go down-stream, on the off-chance that we may findsomething."
"All right. Better take our rifles, perhaps."
"Why? Nurla has got clean away by this time, whether Uncle is with himor not. You may be sure he wouldn't wait about."
"Well, we'll take our revolvers; it's just as well to have somethinghandy. For all we know he may be resting behind some rock."
"With a rifle! Revolvers wouldn't be much use against that."
"Nor would rifles, now you mention it. He'd pot us before we saw him ifhe wanted to. All the same, we'll take our revolvers."
They swarmed across by the rope, gained the farther bank, and walkedslowly down the track, scanning the rocky recesses as narrowly asbefore. They had scarcely any hope of finding their uncle's body; butwhile it remained undiscovered they were ready to search again andagain. It was now near midday, and the sun beat fiercely upon them.For a time they were unconscious of the heat in the intentness of theiroccupation, and the foreboding anxiety that filled their minds; so thatthey had walked much farther than they supposed when they became aliveto the fatigue induced by exertion in such a temperature. Then, wipingtheir perspiring brows, they sank down to rest on a flattish boulderoverhanging the stream.
"We must give it up," said Bob wearily. "Unless Nurla has got him he'seither at the bottom of the river, or else washed down miles by thistime."
"I don't care about caving in altogether," said Lawrence. "It would besome satisfaction--a mournful one--to recover his body and give himdecent burial."
"Poor old man! He wouldn't care a bit about that. What's more to thepoint is to hunt down the blackguards who killed him. That's what Ipropose to do as soon as our men come up. Some of them are sure to knowthe country, and with them on horseback and ourselves in the aeroplane,I'd take long odds that we find Nurla in time."
As they talked, they kept their eyes on the river, more from the habitengendered during the previous few hours than with any strong hope oftheir search being rewarded. Presently Lawrence, following with hiseyes the foaming ripples as they swirled down-stream, caught sight ofsomething that caused him to spring to his feet with a suddenejaculation and lift the field-glass to his eyes.
"What is it?" asked Bob, rising also.
Lawrence handed him the glass. Far away he saw, rounding a bend in thetrack, a party of horsemen marching slowly in single file towards them.Their costume proclaimed them as Kalmucks, and though they were too fardistant for their features to be distinguished, the shape of theforemost seemed to be that of the dwarf, Black Jack.
The watchers suddenly remembered the encampment over which they hadflown earlier in the day. The same thought flashed simultaneouslythrough their minds: the stealthy proceedings of Nurla in the mine andhis subsequent disappearance had not, then, been prompted by anindefinite hope of gain; they had been deliberately planned, either inthe knowledge of the proximity of a body of his fellow countrymen, oreven in concert with them. There could hardly be a doubt that, as oncebefore, an attempt was to be made to dispossess Mr. Appleton of hismine.
The boys stood watching only for a moment or two; then they droppeddown, feeling instinctively that it behoved them to keep out of sight.But brief though their gaze had been, it was long enough to assure themthat the approaching party was a numerous one. They counted a dozenmen; others were coming round the bend, and they were strung out alongthe track. Every man had a fire-arm of some sort, a carbine, or arifle, or a long musket like the Afghan jazail.
For the moment even the fate of their uncle was obliterated from theboys' minds by this astonishing discovery. They realized that their ownlives and the safety of the mine were in danger. Hitherto their anxiousthoughts had been fixed on one object alone; now they saw themselvesfaced with a much more complicated problem.
"We must get back," said Bob, insensibly lowering his tone of voice."We can do nothing at present for Uncle. We must at least return to theaeroplane and wait to see what happens. I'm pretty sure I'm right: thosefellows are being led by the dwarf--and Nurla too, I suspect--to themine. Luckily we've plenty of time to fly back in the aeroplane andgive warning."
"What then? If all those men we saw in the encampment are coming along,we haven't half enough men to prevent anything they like to do."
"I don't care about that. Uncle beat off an attack once, and if thosefellows want the mine, by Jove! they shall have a fight for it."
"You're talking through your hat," said Lawrence, whose tastes andtemperament were quite unmilitary, and who did not know his brother,perhaps, as well as might have been expected.
"Well, we'll get back, at any rate," rejoined Bob, ignoring theaccusation. "And, if possible, without being seen."
They got up, and set off up-stream at a run, keeping as near as possibleto the left-hand side of the track in order to escape observation. Onlynow did they discover how far they had come. The bridge was quite outof sight. They had not timed their walk, and had no means of knowinghow many yards or even miles they had to cover before they should reachthe aeroplane. The distance was in fact more than two miles, and theKalmucks were only three-quarters of a mile behind them. The roughnessof the track lessened the horsemen's advantage in being mounted; but theboys feared that, if they had been seen, the Kalmucks, pressing on thesmall, hardy ponies, accustomed to rough country, might overtake thembefore they had time to make good their escape across the river.
They were not long left in doubt whether they had been seen and werebeing pursued. They had been bounding along a straight stretch of thetrack, perhaps half a mile in length. Before they gained the fartherend of it they heard the shrill shouts of the Kalmucks rising above thedroning bass of the river. As they turned the corner, and passed out ofsight, the sharp crack of rifles followed them; but the pursuers had notdismounted to take aim and had fired a thought too late. The onlyeffect of the shots was to make the boys increase their speed, for theyknew that the ponies must rapidly gain on them over the straight andfairly level portion of the track which they had just left. They pushedon gamely, hugging the cliffside as closely as possible, but beingforced sometimes to diverge towards the river by the nature of the path.They looked anxiously ahead for a sight of the ruined bridge, and feltthe shock of dismay, when, catching a partial glimpse of it at last,they found that they had still at least a mile to go.
The pursuers began to close in upon them. A scattered volley proved thatthey had again been seen. The Kalmucks were firing and loading as theyrode--a mere waste of ammunition, as it might have seemed, but for aninstant proof that these warriors of the steppes were no mean marksmen,even in full career. Bob's cap was struck from his head, and hediscovered only by the blood trickling down his neck that he had beenwounded. Lawrence, glancing over his shoulder, saw that it would bequite impossible to reach the bridge before the pursuers came up withthem.
"We can't do it!" he gasped.
Bob said nothing. His mouth hardened, and he looked intently ahead. Ata few yards' distance a jutting rock encroached upon the track,rendering it only just wide enough for a horseman to pass. On roundingit he halted.
"Down on the ground!" h
e panted. "Out with your revolver! There'snothing else for it."
They threw themselves down with their faces to the enemy, and coveringthemselves as well as they could with the corner of the rock, they heldtheir revolvers ready to fire at the foremost of their pursuers.
"Wait till they are within a few yards of us," said Bob. "No goodwasting shots at long range. They are bound to go slow."
They waited in breathless excitement. Lawrence the pacific was now aswarlike as Bob himself. The enemy drew nearer. The narrowing of thetrack caused them to reduce their pace from a gallop to a trot, then toa walk. In the ardour of the chase their order had been changed; BlackJack was no longer in front.
The boys had just had time to pull themselves together when the firstman came within range.
"Now!" said Bob, springing to his feet.
Showing themselves on the narrow path between the rock and the brink ofthe river they emptied four barrels rapidly, almost pointblank at thehorsemen. The first two men dropped; the others, taken utterly aback,reined up, but were thrown into a huddled mass by the men pressing onbehind. There was a moment's pause--a pause emphasized by cries of painand fear, and the shrill screams of horses. Then the confused throngbegan to wheel about.
"Hold your fire!" whispered Bob, at the same moment emptying his tworemaining barrels into the medley. Another man fell. It was enough.Reckless of everything but his own safety, each man urged his steed backalong the track, and in a few moments all had passed out of sight.
"We win the first trick," said Bob, glancing at his brother. "Why,you're as pale as a ghost!"
"So are you," returned Lawrence.
"Well, it's our first experience of war, so I'm not surprised. But wemust cut it. For one thing, my revolver's empty, and I've no morecartridges here. For another, those fellows will come back as soon asthey've got over their surprise, and even if they funk a frontal attack,I dare say they can manage to clamber round somehow and turn our flank.Our only chance is to make a break for the bridge and get over if we canbefore they're fit to come on."
A CHECK IN THE PURSUIT]
They started at once, and ran up the track, taking much comfort from theknowledge that the projecting rock would for some distance conceal themfrom the enemy. But after a few hundred yards the track both ascendedand wound slightly to the right, bringing them once more into full view.They had no sooner reached this point than loud shouts behind themannounced that the pursuit had been resumed. They glanced back, thenahead, measuring with their eyes the gaps that separated them fromsafety on the one hand, and capture on the other. A couple of bulletswhistled over their heads, but the firing ceased, and they guessed thatthe enemy were confident of being able to overtake them. Such assurancewas misplaced. The track in this part of the ravine, the scene of themorning's disaster, was particularly rugged, and gave no advantage tothe mounted men. Moreover, there were at intervals isolated rocksbehind which the boys could have posted themselves as they had alreadydone, and the Kalmucks approached these heedfully, reining up untilassured that they had no similar ambuscade to fear.
"Lucky they don't know we've only two shots between us," said Bob as hesprinted along by his brother's side. "A good spurt and we're home."
They were both good runners, though their want of training showed itselfin a certain shortness of wind. They gained the bridge, saw at a glancethat the pursuers were still several hundred yards away, and seizing therope began to swing themselves hand over hand across the stream. Attheir previous crossings they had exercised some little caution, in casethe rope should break under their weight. Now, however, they puteverything to the hazard, realizing that to fall into the stream wouldbe no worse than to be caught.
The Kalmucks had been informed by Nurla of the destruction of thebridge, and had anticipated an easy capture. When they saw the boysswinging themselves across they gave utterance to renewed shouts; someflung themselves from their horses and ran forward to swarm over in thesame way: others reined up and once more began to fire. The fugitiveswere still some few feet from the farther side, and momentarily expectedto be hit, when there was a sudden diversion in their favour. Theyheard shouts in the opposite direction, from beyond the rocks on theother side of the clear space on which the aeroplane rested.Immediately afterwards several rifle shots rang out. For a second theyhalted in their progress, in the fear that they were the targets ofanother hostile band. But next instant it flashed into Bob's mind thatthe volley must have been fired by their own Pathans, whose arrival theyhad long expected.
"Come on, Law," he cried. "We're all right now."
With three more heaves he was upon the bank. He turned to assist hisbrother; then both scurried across the open space, past the aeroplane,and dashed into safety behind the screen of rocks, where they werereceived with shouts of delight by the five stalwart Pathans who laythere in a line with their rifles at their shoulders.
For the moment they were not aware of the effect of the volley. It hadbrought the Kalmucks to a sudden check. One of those who werescrambling across the rope dropped into the river; the rest swungthemselves round and struggled frantically in the opposite direction.Two or three of those who had halted on the track were wounded; andtheir comrades, realizing that they were helpless against marksmen undercover, wheeled round and made a hurried flight down the river, notdrawing rein until they had passed the intervening rocks and werethemselves protected. Those who had followed the boys sprang to theirsaddles and galloped away; but one of them was winged before he hadridden many yards. He fell from his pony, which dashed on in pursuit ofthe rest and was soon lost to sight, the man rising and limping after.
The Pathans chuckled as they rose to their feet.
"That was well done," said one of them, named Fyz Ali. "But where isthe huzur?"
He turned to the boys, who, feeling thoroughly exhausted by the stressand strain of this eventful morning, had flung themselves down, and layat full length with their heads resting on their arms.
At the man's words Lawrence looked up. He had learnt enough of thePathan patois to understand and to make himself understood, though hecould not yet sustain a lengthy conversation. In a few words,haltingly, he explained what had happened to his uncle. The Pathansthrew up their hands in consternation, invoking the name of Allah andpouring out a torrent of curses upon Nurla Bai and the Kalmucks. Mr.Appleton was very popular among them, and the news of his loss, and ofthe escape of the assassin, filled them with dismay and rage.
"Beyond doubt the huzur is dead," said Fyz Ali, pulling at his beard."Allah is great! The huzur could not live, falling wounded into theswift water. He sank like a stone, and lies at the bottom. We shallcast dust upon our heads for our father."
"You were just in time to save us," said Lawrence.
"Allah be praised! We were riding down, and came to the wonderfulmachine, and when we saw that the bridge was broken we knew that we mustwait until the huzur returned. Therefore we got off our horses and wereresting and eating when we heard shots afar off, and believed the huzurwas doing justice upon Nurla Bai. But looking down the stream weperceived the sahibs running, and the accursed Kalmucks after them, andI said we must hide behind the rocks and fire when the time came. Andby the mercy of Allah we were able to save the sahibs, and our heartsare glad; but our joy is turned to grief by this heavy news. Our lightis become darkness, and we are as little children."
Lawrence then told in detail, as well as he could, the events of themorning. When he spoke of the encampment on the plateau, Fyz Ali atonce agreed that Nurla Bai must have known of the proximity of hisfellow countrymen, and that an attack upon the mine was clearlyintended.
"What are we to do, sahib?" he asked.
Before Lawrence could reply, the air was rent by the crackle of rifles,and a shower of bullets hissed overhead, some pattering upon the rocks.Some of the Pathans had incautiously shown themselves, and the enemy hadopened fire from their position down the river. They instantly duckedunder cover, a
nd gathered in a group about their young masters, toconsult on their course of action.
"How many Kalmucks did you see?" asked Lawrence.
"We did not count them, sahib," said Fyz Ali, "but there must have beennearly thirty. There are not so many now," he added with a grimchuckle.
"And we number seven all told!" said Lawrence. "Look after the menwhile I talk to my brother."
"We're in a hole," said Bob. "The fellows aren't great marksmen, but wecan't move the aeroplane while they command the space in front. They'reonly about a quarter of a mile away, and with a score of rifles theycouldn't help hitting us."
"What was your idea?"
"To get aloft and fly down-stream to reconnoitre. I should like to knowwhether the rest of them are coming up from the camp. But that's out ofthe question."
"We're safe for the present, anyhow. They can't cross while we commandthe bridge."
"That's true. I wonder whether they can climb the hills, and get at usfrom above. You might ask Fyz Ali whether he knows of a path."
The Pathan consulted with his companions. One of them said that he knewof a rough path a mile lower down the river, which led by a tortuous anddifficult course over the hills; but it involved a round of nearly tenmiles, and the march would take at least five hours.
"By that time it will be dark," said Bob. "It's something to know thatwe are safe till then, and it gives us time to think out a plan. The onething that's clear at present is that we must get back to the mine."
"And Uncle?"
"We can do absolutely nothing more. In spite of what Fyz Ali said, Ican't help thinking that he may be still alive. If he were drowned, hisbody must have come up."
"And the Kalmucks would kill him if they found him."
"I'm not so sure. He'd be a valuable hostage. They might bring him upto the mine, and make our surrender a condition of his release."
"With all my heart I hope it is so. But suppose they haven't got him?"
"We must get back to the mine and do our best to hold it. That's whathe'd wish us to do. But look here, old chap, we've eaten next tonothing. It's no good letting ourselves down. Ask Fyz Ali to give ussome of his tommy; we can't get our own; and when we've had a feed we'lldecide what's to be done."
The Air Patrol: A Story of the North-west Frontier Page 10
