The Half-Hearted

by John Buchan

  CHAPTER XXIX

  THE WAY TO NAZRI

  Our traveller did not reach Nazri that night for many reasons, of whichthe chief shall be told. The way to Nazri is long and the way to Nazriis exceedingly rough. Leaving the table-land you plunge down atrackless gully into the dry bed of a stream. Thence it is an hour'suneasy walking among stagnant pools and granite boulders to the foot ofanother nullah which runs up to the heart of the hills. From this youpick your way along the precipitous side of a mountain, and if your headis good and your feet sure, may come eventually to a place like the roofof the house, beyond which lies a thicket of thorn-bushes and the Nazrigully. At first sight the thing seems impossible, but by a bold man itcan be crossed either in the untanned Kashmir shoes or with the nakedfeet.

  Lewis had not gone a mile and had barely reached the dry watercourse,when the weather broke utterly in a storm of mist and fine rain. Atother times this chill weather would have been a comfort, but here inthese lonely altitudes, with a difficult path before him, its result wasto confound confusion. So long as he stuck to the stream he had someguidance; it was hard, even when the air was like a damp blanket, tomistake the chaos of boulder and shingle which meant the channel. Butthe mist was close to him and wrapped him in like a quilt, and he lookedin vain for the foot of the nullah he must climb. He tried keeping bythe edge and feeling his way, but it only landed him in a ditch ofstagnant slime. The thing was too vexatious, and his temper went; andwith his temper his last chance of finding his road. When he hadstumbled for what seemed hours he sat down on a boulder and whistleddismally. The stream belonged to another watershed. If he followed it,assuming that he did not break his neck over a dry cataract, he would bethrough the mountains and near Taghati quicker than he intended.Meantime the miserable George would wait at Nazri, would rouse theKhautmi garrison on a false alarm, and would find himself irretrievablyseparated from his friend. The thought was so full of irritation, thathe resolved not to stir one step further. He would spend the night ifneed be in this place and wait till the mist lifted.

  He found a hollow among the boulders, and improvidently ate half hisstore of sandwiches. Then, finding his throat dry, he got up to huntfor water. A trickle afar off in the rocks led him on, and sure enoughhe found water; but when he tried to retrace his steps to his formerresting place he found that he had forgotten the way. This new placewas conspicuously less sheltered, but he sat down on the wet gravel, lita pipe with difficulty, and with his knees close to his chin strove topossess his soul in patience.

  He was tired, for he had slept little for two days, and the closer airof the ravine made him drowsy. He had lost any sense of discomfort fromthe wet, and was in the numb condition of the utterly drenched. Hecould not spend the night like this, so he roused himself and stoodstaring, pipe in teeth, into the drizzle. The mist seemed clearer. Hewas a little stupid, so he did not hear the sound of feet on stones tillthey were almost on him. Then through the haze he saw a procession offigures moving athwart the channel. They were not his countrymen, forthey walked with the stoop forward which no Englishman can ever quitemaster in his hill-climbing. Lewis turned to flee, but in his numbnessof mind and body missed footing, and fell sprawling over a bank ofshingle. He scrambled to his feet only to find hands at his throat, andhimself a miserable prisoner.

  The scene had shifted with a vengeance, and his first and sole impulsewas to laugh. It is possible that if the scarf of a brawny tribesmanhad not been so tight across his chest he would have astonished hiscaptors with hysterical laughter. But the jolt as he was dragged uphill, tied close to a horse's side, was unfavourable to merriment, andraw despondency filled his soul. This was the end of his fine doings.The prisoner of unknown bandits, hurried he knew not whence, a prettypass for an adventurer. This was the seal on his ineffectiveness. Shotagainst a rock, held up to some sordid ransom, he was as impotent forgood or ill as if he had stayed at home. For a second he longed to pullhorse and captor with one wrench over the brink to the kindly gulf whereall was quiet.

  The bitterest ill-humour possessed this meekest of men. Normally hewould have been afraid, for he was an imaginative being who fearedhorrors and had little relish for them. But there is a certain perfectbad temper which casteth out fear, and this held him in its grip. Hecursed the mountain solitude and he cursed the Bada-Mawidi with awfuldirectness. Then he chose silence as the easier part, and trudged likea stolid criminal till, half in a daze of weariness and sleep, he foundthat the cavalcade had halted.

  The place was the edge of a little tableland where in a hollow amongrocks lay a collection of mud-walled huts. A fire, in spite of the dampweather, blazed cheerfully in the midst of the clearing. There wascommotion in the huts, every door was opened, and evil-smelling peoplepoured forth with cries and questions. The leader of the newly arrivedparty bowed himself before a short, square man whom we have met before,and spoke something in his ear. Fazir Khan looked up sharply at Lewis,then laughed, and spoke something to his men in his own tongue.

  Lewis comprehended barely a few words of Chil, the Bada tongue, and heknew little of the frontier speeches. But to his amazement the chiefaddressed him in tolerable, if halting, English. It was not for nothingthat Fazir Khan had harried the Border and sojourned incognito in everytown in North India.

  "Allah has given thee to us, my son," he said sweetly. "It is vain tofight against God. I have heard of thee as the Englishman who wouldknow more than is good for man to know. You were at Forza to-day."

  Lewis's temper was at its worst. "I was at Forza to-day, and I watchedyour people running. Had they waited a little longer we should haveslain them all, and then have come for you."

  The chief smiled unpleasantly. "My people did not fight at Forzato-day. That was but the sport to draw on fools. Soon we shall fightin earnest, but in a different place, and thou shalt not see."

  "I am your prisoner," said Lewis grimly, "and it is in your power to dowith me as you please. But remember that for every hair of my head mypeople will take the lives of four of your cattle-lifters."

  "That is an old story," said Fazir Khan wearily, "and I have heard itmany times before. You speak boldly like a man, and because you are notafraid I will tell you the truth. In a very little there will be notone of your people in the land, only the Bada-Mawidi, and others whom Ido not name."

  "That is a still older story. I have heard it since I was in mymother's arms. Do you think to frighten me by such a tale?"

  "Let us not talk of fear," said the chief with some politeness. "Thereare two races in your people, one which talks and allies itself withBengalis and swine, and one which lives in hard places and follows war.The second I love, and had it been possible, I would have allied myselfwith it and driven the others into the sea." This petty chieftain spokewith the pride of one who ruled the destinies of the earth.

  Lewis was unimpressed. "I am tired of your riddles," he said. "If youwould kill me have done with it. If you would keep me prisoner, give mefood and a place to sleep. But if you would be merciful, let me go andshow me the way to Bardur. Life is too short for waiting."

  Fazir Khan laughed loudly, and spoke something to his people.

  "You shall join in our company for the night," he said. "I have eatenof the salt of your people and I do not murder without cause. Also Ilove a bold man."

  Lewis was led into the largest of the huts and given food and warm Hunzawine. The place was hot to suffocation; large beads of moisture stoodon the mud walls, and the smell of uncleanly clothing and sweating limbswas difficult to stand. But the man's complexion was hard, and he madean excellent supper. Thereafter he became utterly drowsy. He had it inhis mind to question this Fazir Khan about his dark sayings, but hiseyes closed as if drawn by a magnet and his head nodded. It may havebeen something in the wine; it may have been merely the vigil of thelast night, and the toil of the past hours. At any rate his mind wassoon a blank, and when a servant pointed out a heap of skins in acorner, he flung himself on them and was at once asleep. He was utterlyat thei
r mercy, but his course, had he known it, was the wisest. Even aBada's treachery has its limits, and he will not knife a confidentguest. The men talked and wrangled, ate and drank, and finally snoredaround him, but he slept through it all like a sleeper of Ephesus.

  When he woke the hut was cleared. The village slept late but he hadslept later, for the sun was piercing the unglazed windows and makingpattern-work on the earth floor. He had slept soundly a sleep hauntedwith nightmares, and he was still dazed as he peered out into the squarewhere men were passing. He saw a sentry at the door of his hut, whichreminded him of his condition. All the long night he had been far away,fishing, it seemed to him, in a curious place which was Glenavelin, andyet was ever changing to a stranger glen. It was moonlight, still,bright and warm on all the green hill shoulders. He remembered that hecaught nothing, but had been deliriously happy. People seemed passingon the bank, Arthur and Wratislaw and Julia Heston, and all hisboyhood's companions. He talked to them pleasantly, and all the whilehe was moving up the glen which lay so soft in the moonlight. Heremembered looking everywhere for Alice Wishart, but her face waswanting. Then suddenly the place seemed to change. The sleeping glenchanged to a black sword-cut among rocks, his friends disappeared, andonly George was left. He remembered that George cried out something andpointed to the gorge, and he knew--though how he knew it he could nottell--that the lost Alice was somewhere there before him in the darknessand he must go towards her. Then he had wakened shivering, for in thatdarkness there was terror as well as joy.

  He went to the door, only to find himself turned back by the sheep-skinsentry, who half unsheathed for his benefit an ugly knife. He foundthat his revolver, his sole weapon, had been taken while he slept.Escape was impossible till his captors should return.

  A day of burning sun had followed on the storm. Out of doors in thescorching glare from the rock there seemed an extraordinary bustle. Itwas like the preparations for a march, save that there seemed no methodin the activity. One man burnished a knife, a dozen were cleaningrifles, and all wore the evil-smelling finery with which the hillmandecks his person for war. Their long oiled hair was tied in a sort ofrude knot, new and fuller turbans adorned the head, and on the feet werestout slippers of Bokhara make. Lewis had keen eyesight, and he stroveto read the marks on the boxes of cartridges which stood in a corner.It was not the well-known Government mark which usually brands stolenammunition. The three crosses with the crescent above--he had seen thembefore, but his memory failed him. It might have been at Bardur in theinn; it might have been at home in the house of some great traveller.At any rate the sight boded no good to himself or the border peace. Hethought of George waiting alone at Nazri, and then obediently warningthe people at Khautmi. By this time Andover would know he was missing,and men would be out on a very hopeless search. At any rate he had donesome good, for if the Badas meant marching they would find the garrisonsprepared.

  About noon there was a bustle in the square and Fazir Khan with a dozenof his tail swaggered in. He came straight to the hut, and two menentered and brought out the prisoner. Lewis stiffened his back andprepared not reluctantly for a change in the situation. He had nospecial fear of this smiling, sinister chieftain. So far he had beenspared, and now it seemed unlikely that in the midst of this bustle ofwar there would be room for the torture which alone he dreaded. So hemet the chief's look squarely, and at the moment he thanked the lotwhich had given him two more inches of height.

  "I have sent for thee, my son," said Fazir Khan, "that you may see howgreat my people is."

  "I have seen," said Lewis, looking round. "You have a large collectionof jackals, but you will not bring many back."

  The notion tickled Fazir Khan and he laughed with great good-humour."So, so," he cried. "Behold how great is the wisdom of youth. I willtell you a secret, my son. In a little the Bada-Mawidi, my people, willbe in Bardur and a little later in the fat corn lands of the south, andI, Fazir Khan, will sit in King's palaces." He looked contemptuouslyround at his mud walls, his heart swelling with pride.

  "What the devil do you mean?" Lewis asked with rising suspicion. Thiswas not the common talk of a Border cateran.

  "I mean what I mean," said the other. "In a little all the world shallsee. But because I have a liking for a bold cockerel like thee, I willspeak unwisely. The days of your people are numbered. This very nightthere are those coming from the north who will set their foot on yournecks."

  Lewis went sick at heart. A thousand half-forgotten suspicions calledclamorously. This was the secret of the burlesque at Forza, and the newvalour of the Badas. He saw Marker's game with the fatal clearness ofone who is too late. He had been given a chance of a little piece ofservice to avert his suspicions. Marker had fathomed him well as onewho must satisfy a restless conscience but had no stomach for anythingbeyond. Doubtless he thought that now he would be enjoying the restafter labour at Forza, flattering himself on saving a garrison, when allthe while the force poured down which was to destroy an empire. An armyfrom the north, backed and guided by every Border half-breed andoutlaw--what hope of help in God's name was to be found in the sleepyforts and the unsuspecting Bardur?

  And the Kashmir and the Punjab? A train laid in every town and village.Supplies in readiness, communications waiting to be held, railways readyfor capture. Europe was on the edge of a volcano. He saw an outbreakthere which would keep Britain employed at home, while the great powerwith her endless forces and bottomless purse poured her men over thefrontier. But at the thought of the frontier he checked himself. Therewas no road by which an army could march; if there was any it could beblocked by a handful. A week's, a day's delay would save the north, andthe north would save the empire.

  His voice came out of his throat with a crack in it like an old man's.

  "There is no road through the mountains. I have been there before and Iknow."

  Again Fazir Khan smiled. "I use no secrecy to my friends. There is away, though all men do not know it. From Nazri there is a valleyrunning towards the sunrise. At the head there is a little ridge easilycrossed, and from that there is a dry channel between high precipices.It is not the width of a man's stature, so even the sharp eyes of mybrother might miss it. Beyond that there is a sandy tableland, and thenanother valley, and then plains."

  The plan of the place was clear in Lewis's brain. He remembered eachdetail. The long nullah on which he had looked from the hill-tops had,then, an outlet, and did not end, as he had guessed, in a dead wall ofrock. Fool and blind! to have missed so glorious a chance!

  He stood staring dumbly around him, unconscious that he was thelaughingstock of all. Then he looked at the chief.

  "Am I your prisoner?" he asked hoarsely.

  "Nay," said the other good-humouredly, "thou art free. We haveover-much work on hand to-day to be saddled with captives."

  "Then where is Nazri?" he asked.

  The chief laughed a loud laugh of tolerant amusement. "Hear to the boldone," he cried. "He will not miss the great spectacle. See, I willshow you the road," and he pointed out certain landmarks. "For one ofmy own people it is a journey of four hours; for thee it will besomething more. But hurry, and haply the game will not have begun. Ifthe northern men take thee I will buy thy life."

  Four hours; the words rang in his brain like a sentence. He had nohope, but a wild craving to attempt the hopeless. George might havereturned to Nazri to wait; it was the sort of docile thing that Georgewould do. In any case not five miles from Nazri was the end of thenorth road and a little telegraph hut used by the Khautmi forts. Thenight would be full moonlight; and by night the army would come. Hiswatch had been stolen, but he guessed by the heavens that it was sometwo hours after noon. Five hours would bring him to Nazri at six, inanother he might be at the hut before the wires were severed. It was acrazy chance, but it was his all, and meanwhile these grinning tribesmenwere watching him like some curious animal. They had talked to himfreely to mock his feebleness. His dominant wish was to escape fromtheir sight.

  He tur
ned to the descent. "I am going to Nazri," he said.

  The chief held out his pistol. "Take your little weapon. We have noneed of such things when great matters are on hand. Allah speed you,brother! A sure foot and a keen eye may bring you there in time for thesport." And, still laughing, he turned to enter the hut.