Part 12

"We are going to our homes, sahib," replied the man. "The dogs are too many for us. We did but stop to take a little rest, and kill a few. We cannot go back to the mine: the talk is that the huzur is gone; who will pay us now? We go to our own country, and some day will come back and deal with these children of Shaitan. Not a man of them shall be left alive. But now we can do nothing; it is vain to kick against the goad. If the sahib had more little boxes we might kill them all; but he has none, or he would not be here."

Bob felt himself in a difficulty. He wanted to retain the Pathans; but in their present temper they would not be likely to remain with him if they knew that a huge army was advancing up-stream. On the other hand it would not be fair to withhold that information from them, and bring them back to the mine under false pretences. Reflecting rapidly for a few moments he determined to make a clean breast of it, but to lead up to the important point as diplomatically as he could.

"Have you any food?" he asked.

"Bismillah, sahib, we are empty as bladders. The dogs fell upon us even as we were filling our pots for the morning meal. We have eaten nothing."

"And what will you do for food on the way home? Is it a smiling country? Does millet grow on the rocks? Will you find grapes on thorn bushes?"

"True, sahib," said the man uneasily: "but there are ibex and other clean animals for our guns."

"You have plenty of ammunition then?"

"Enough to shoot beasts for our food."

"And to shoot the Kalmucks too? If I cannot stop them, and they pursue you, you will have no time to shoot ibex, and no bullets to waste. And you may meet enemies in the hills. You may be caught between two fires, and, outnumbered as you are already, you will be slaughtered like sheep."

The Pathan looked more and more troubled.

"I will go and talk to my brothers," he said. "With many counsellors there is wisdom."

"No, that won't do. You would waste a lot of time, and perhaps wrangle. You must act as head man, and what you and I decide the others will do."

"What does the sahib order?"

"I order nothing. I want you to make up your own mind. Now listen. I see a way to bring you out of your present awkward position, and take you safely back to the mine. You do not know that Lawrence Sahib with Fyz Ali and the rest is in danger."

"Mashallah, sahib, what is this you tell?"

"We were attacked yesterday at the bridge down-stream, and beat off the enemy. Lawrence Sahib had to keep guard all night: he may have been attacked again, but he is now marching back."

"And who was the enemy, sahib? Only Nurla Bai and his monkey left the mine, and they are now among the dogs that have been barking at us beyond."

"The enemy are a large force of Kalmucks, a great army, who are coming up the valley, for what purpose I know not."

"Hai, sahib, but then there is the more need for us to go!"

"Yes, if you are willing to be cowards and faithless. Must I believe that you will sneak off and leave your comrades to face danger alone?"

The man was silent, plucking his beard. Bob offered him a cigarette, which the man accepted mechanically, lighting it at the match with which Bob lit his own.

"Is it a great army, sahib?" he said at length.

"A very great one. Very likely we shall find it impossible to save the mine. It is true that the huzur is gone: Nurla Bai shot him; he fell from the machine into the river, and I have no hope that he is yet alive. But his loss only leaves the more for us to do. We must first save Lawrence Sahib and your friends. When we are all met again, we can decide what is best. Perhaps we shall have to abandon the mine; but then, you see, we shall form one large party, with plenty of provisions and cartridges; and you will have a much better chance of reaching your homes than if you go as you are, hungry, with no food, and little hope of defending yourselves if attacked by enemies in the hills."

The Pathan puffed away gravely.

"There is truth in what the sahib says. He has a very big mind, and sees very far. We Pathans are not cowards, as the sahib knows; Fyz Ali is a good man, and the chota sahib will be a great man when his beard is grown. But how can we go back? As the sahib says, we are but a handful against the pack of dogs yonder, and the sahib has no more little boxes."

"I didn't say so. As a matter of fact, I have several."

"Inshallah!" cried the man joyfully. "Why did not the sahib say so before? If the sahib will go up in his machine, and drop the little boxes upon the heads of the Kalmucks, we will charge home upon them with great fury, and there shall not be left one man alive to tell the tale."

Bob knew that it would be useless to attempt to make the man understand why he could not consent to this wholesale butchery. He merely pointed out that, flying swiftly overhead, he could only drop one or perhaps two bombs that would certainly hit the enemy. The survivors would be goaded to desperation, and before the aeroplane could return and the manoeuvre be repeated, there would be a terrible fight, in which the Pathans, even if successful, would lose heavily.

"What I want to do is to gather all the loyal men safely at the mine," he said. "I do not want to lose one of you. I can do this, I believe, if you obey my orders: otherwise who knows how many of you will be left alive?"

"As the sahib commands," said the Pathan.

"This is what I command. You will remain here with your men while I drive the Kalmucks away. You will not fire upon them unless you are yourselves attacked. Impress that upon the men. When the Kalmucks are out of sight, you may march up towards the mine, but halt if you come in sight of them again."

"I will give the sahib's orders to the men," said the Pathan. "I hope the sahib will drive the dogs away quickly, for we are very hungry."

He salaamed and returned to his companions, who had been keeping one eye on the enemy, the other on the curious scene two hundred yards up-stream. It was indeed a strange position: the two men calmly smoking and discussing their plans, while at no great distance lurked a ferocious band ready to leap to the attack at any moment. They too had been consulting together, but their imagination was not active enough to lead them to any satisfactory conclusion. The dynamite bomb had been intended to check them: that was evident; and they decided that it would be wise to wait patiently for developments. Nurla Bai was very much annoyed. He had undergone great exertions and endured much fatigue to achieve his object--the slaughter or dispersal of the Pathans; and it was exasperating to find himself at a check just when he had them at his mercy, through the ingenuity of an Englishman and the astounding swiftness of his flying machine. He began to wish that, instead of picking up bits of rock in the gallery on that dark night, he had made his way to the platform and done some vital damage to the aeroplane. Perhaps a lucky shot would bring it down when it again passed over the position. But he hoped there would be no more dynamite bombs.

CHAPTER THE FIFTEENTH

NURLA BAI SLIPS THE NOOSE

And now began the strangest game of chevy chase that was ever played. In a few minutes Bob and the Gurkha were flying northward. As they approached the area upon which the Kalmucks were assembled, Bob steered to the right, so as to cross the position obliquely. Some of the men were in the act of covering the aeroplane with their rifles, when the sight of a bright red object descending from the sky struck them with a sort of paralysis. The coffee tin fell almost midway between them and the Pathans. Dust and splinters of rock flew in all directions, and the Kalmucks, with one consent, scampered along the track towards the mine. Bob listened for rifle-shots; he knew that the Pathans' obedience would be put to a severe test when they saw their enemies in flight. Not a shot was fired.

The Kalmucks did not yet perceive the real object which Bob had in view. After running a short distance, they halted again, unable to decide whether it was safer to advance or retreat. When they saw the aeroplane soaring towards them from the northward, they broke apart, each man striving to find some crevice or nook among the rocks where he might shelter himself. All believed that the Englishman's purpose was slaughter. But when another bomb was dropped on their southward side, not near enough to do them harm, some of them, as they ran, began to suspect the meaning of the device. For three or four miles they were thus driven down the track. Wherever the gorge was wide enough, Bob wheeled backwards and forwards across it in their rear, swooping down whenever he saw them lagging, with the result that they did not wait for another bomb, but hurried along like a flock of frightened sheep. Once or twice they took shots at the aeroplane, but gave it up when it was patent that their marksmanship was unequal to the feat of hitting the flying target. And all the time the Pathans marched steadily behind them, much amused at the sahib's method of shepherding, but a little chagrined because they were not allowed to assist.

Meanwhile Bob had been thinking out his further proceedings. He must not let the Kalmucks draw too close to the mine. Lawrence could not arrive yet for several hours; it was important that he should come safely home without a collision with the enemy. When, therefore, they had arrived within about two miles of the mine, he decided that it was time to arrest their course. They could no longer be in doubt about the meaning of his signals hitherto--he would give them another. Flying ahead, then wheeling round, he dropped a tin, this time in front of them. At the explosion they halted, and after a brief consultation began to move on. Another bomb, falling in front again, but now a little closer, conveyed its warning; like fog signals on a railway-line, these explosions plainly indicated that the track was not clear. They halted again, and posted themselves behind rocks, facing up-stream, to guard against attack by the Pathans.

How long they would remain stationary Bob could not tell; but he thought he had them sufficiently well in hand to give him time to fly to the mine and act on another idea that had occurred to him. On reaching the house, he ordered Shan Tai to put up in two or three baskets a quantity of food, then scribbled a note bidding Lawrence push forward at his utmost speed. This he placed under the lid of a tin weighted with stones, but free from caps or dynamite. Then telling Gur Buksh to keep a careful watch on the track southward, and fire if the Kalmucks showed themselves at the turn half a mile away, he went back to the aeroplane, carrying the tin, and set off down the river. He was anxious that Lawrence should arrive before dark. In the daylight the dynamite bombs might be relied on to bar the road to the Kalmucks; but they might easily take advantage of the darkness to slip past the mine, if not by the track, at any rate by the hill-path above, and the bombs would lose half their terrors. The possibility of a collision between the Kalmucks and his brother's party filled him with anxiety; for the former, infuriated by their chevying, would wreak their vengeance upon the smaller band coming up-stream.

Bob discovered Lawrence and his men taking a rest about half-way between the mine and the broken bridge. They greeted him with a cheer. He flew for some minutes up- and down-stream in the search for a landing-place, but the track being too narrow here, and the neighbourhood too rugged, he swooped down, and as he passed over the group, he got Fazl to drop his tin within a few feet of them. The Gurkha uttered a cry of incredulous amazement when he heard the order, but Bob hastily explained that the tin contained only a chit. Too busy himself with steering to watch the result, Bob asked Fazl what had happened, and he reported that the tin, rolling down the bank towards the river, had been retrieved by Lawrence Sahib himself.

Bob flew straight back to the mine, thence over the Kalmucks, who were still halted where he had left them, and beyond them to the Pathans. The country was here much less rugged, but it was some little time before he found a spot where he could alight without risk, nearly half a mile south of the party. On landing, he and Fazl between them carried the baskets of food to the Pathans.

"The sahib is a light to our eyes," said the head man. "The men were becoming restless."

"I dare say. Well, here is some food for them. This will keep up their courage. I am glad to see that they have obeyed my orders, and before long I hope we shall all be safe at the mine."

"Allah be praised!" cried the man. "Food is what we need, and my brothers will delight in the sahib's care."

Indeed, Bob could have hit upon no more effective means of attaching the Pathans to his cause. This evidence of the sahib's thoughtfulness profoundly impressed the men, and as they made ravenous onslaught on their rations they were loud in praise of their young master, whom it was good to serve.

By this time Bob was very tired of his continual journeys up and down the river; his petrol, too, was running low, and it was with a feeling of great relief that he set off on what was to be his last flight for many a day. When Lawrence had returned, Bob meant to hold a serious consultation with him as to the possibility of holding the mine. If it were decided that this was hopeless, he would have to make immediate arrangements for evacuation. The thought of leaving the aeroplane gave him a pang. That he must leave it seemed inevitable, for he felt that his presence would be necessary as leader of the march. He might, indeed, fly miles ahead, alight, and wait for his little force to reach him; but it seemed more important to share his brother's difficulties than to secure the safety of the aeroplane.

After replacing the machine in its shed, he returned to the house and called for dinner. For several hours there was nothing to be done. When he had finished his meal, he lit his pipe and settled himself in an easy chair to think over the position. It was the first opportunity of rest and quiet meditation since Nurla Bai's defection had so fatally disturbed the peaceful life of the settlement. Of his uncle he could now think only as of one irrevocably lost. It was the end of mining in the Hindu Kush. Whatever the immediate future might bring forth, it was clear that Lawrence and he must seek some other career. And when he reckoned up the chances, he felt more and more doubtful whether either of them would escape from this valley of tragedy with their lives.

Yet Fate had been kind to them, even through the instrumentality of Nurla Bai. But for that man's villainy, there would have been no pursuit down the river, no discovery of the army encamped forty miles away. They would have had no warning of the approach of this great host, and defence and flight would have been equally impossible. Such chances as they had of weathering the storm were due to Nurla Bai.

Bob's thoughts centred on that wily Kalmuck. His presence among the men halted half a mile off was puzzling. Bob did not guess that Nurla Bai and his henchman had been among a band who had crossed the river in the night, and attacked Lawrence and his Pathans. These two men alone of the party had not recrossed when the rest were beaten back. They had slipped up the bank under cover of the darkness, and marched all night along the track. Warned by the sound of horses' hoofs they had hidden until the Pathan reinforcements had passed, then hurried on to the mine. Arriving there at dawn, they had instigated the attack on the Pathans, of whom Nurla Bai had led the pursuit.

The knowledge that the Kalmuck was within half a mile of him suggested to Bob the possibility of capturing him and bringing him to justice. The punishment of the offender would do more than anything else to tighten the bonds between himself and the Pathans. Remembering the Kalmuck prisoners whom Gur Buksh had taken, Bob hit on a plan for getting Nurla Bai into his power. He would send one of them as a herald to the miners, promising to allow them to depart northwards if they would deliver up their arms and hand over Nurla Bai and Black Jack. With the Sikhs on one side of them, and on the other the Pathans, eager for an opportunity to wipe off old scores, they must recognize their helplessness, and probably would be willing to purchase the safety of the whole band at so cheap a price.

About two o'clock in the afternoon, therefore, Bob sent for one of the prisoners, and with Fazl as interpreter, gave him his instructions. If the terms offered were accepted, Nurla Bai and his man were to come to the mine under escort of not more than four of the party, unarmed. The drawbridge was lowered, and raised again after the man had departed on his errand.

Bob waited patiently for the result of this mission. Lawrence ought to arrive about four o'clock, by hard marching. By that time the Kalmucks should have made up their minds. Of course, under Nurla Bai's influence, they might reject his terms, preferring to wait for darkness to give them an opportunity of creeping past without surrendering either their leader or their arms. In either case Lawrence would then be safe, and the doings of the Kalmucks need give him no further concern. Nurla Bai would escape his deserts, but that could not be helped.

Less than an hour after the envoy's departure, a group of six men were seen approaching the mine from the Kalmucks' encampment. In a few minutes Bob was able to recognize among them Nurla Bai and Black Jack. Somewhat surprised, after all, at their compliance, he congratulated himself on the satisfactory working of his plan. It was not long, however, before he saw that his jubilation was premature. The men were apparently unarmed, but calling Gur Buksh to his side, Bob ordered him as a precautionary measure to place the Sikhs at the inner end of the bridge, and cover the Kalmucks with their rifles, so as to guard against treachery. The whole staff of domestic servants and the few Pathans left at the mine assembled in the compound to watch the proceedings. Bob ordered the Pathans to lay aside their rifles, for their rage against Nurla Bai was such that he could not trust them to refrain from firing on their foe, even though he was unarmed.

The Kalmucks came opposite the bridge. At Bob's command Fazl shouted his instructions across the river. When the drawbridge was lowered, Nurla Bai and his man were to cross. The escort were to return to their companions, and explain that later on, at a signal given by rifle-shots, they were to come forward ten at a time, hand their weapons to the Sikhs stationed at the bridge end to receive them, and pass down the track. The miners made no response, but stood motionless on the farther bank.

At a word from Bob, the bridge-man turned his windlass, and the bridge, with much creaking, began slowly to descend. The end had almost reached the platform on which it rested when, with a suddenness that took everybody by surprise, Nurla Bai and Black Jack dived off the bank into the river, sheltered by the descending bridge. Next moment several rifle-shots rang out; the Sikhs had fired, rather because they felt that they must do something than because there was any real chance of hitting the fugitives. Then they ran along by the wall, to watch for the two men to reappear.

Bob followed them; the crowd of servants and Pathans, shouting with excitement, rushed in the same direction. Ditta Lal waddled breathless in the rear.

At this, the narrowest part of the valley for many miles, the current rushed through the gorge like a mill-race. Nurla Bai had chosen his moment well, reckoning on the rapidity of the stream to bear him out of harm's way. Some seconds passed before a black head was seen bobbing on the surface of the swirling flood a hundred and fifty yards away.

"Don't fire!" shouted Bob.

He was only in the nick of time, for the Sikhs already had their rifles at the shoulder, pointed at the black object in the water. With soldierly obedience they kept their fingers from the trigger, though they were amazed at the order. Bob was astonished at himself. His command had been almost involuntary; only after he had spoken was he conscious of the motive impelling him. It was a sportsman's admiration for pluck and resourcefulness. Of course the Kalmucks had tricked him, but he was young enough to admire their courage more than he resented their trickery.

In another moment the head had disappeared. It was now too late to change his mind, even if he had wished it.

"They are gone!" screamed the Babu. "Sir, you have allowed them to bunk. Why this fatal hesitation? Why this neglect of precious opportunity? You cast pearls before swine, sir--and by pearls I mean mercy and ruth and all that. They will turn again and rend you. Sir, I repeat----"

Here Bob cut in. As a rule he was disposed to humour the Babu, whom he found amusing at times, and whom he believed to be well-intentioned. Now, however, he had neither time nor patience to argue, even if any amount of argument could have made the Bengali understand his point of view.

"Get back to your stores," he said sternly, and Ditta Lal, who was always abashed and rendered speechless by a rebuff, shuffled off disconsolately.

Bob was not disposed to let the two Kalmucks escape altogether. No amount of pluck or cleverness could wipe out his recollection of their crimes. To bring them to justice was a duty he owed himself and the Pathans. Less than a minute after they had disappeared he ordered two of the Sikhs to cross the bridge and pursue them along the track.

"Don't shoot them: march them back to the mine," he said. "There I will deal with them."

The men set off to do his bidding. Meanwhile the four miners of Nurla Bai's escort had remained where they stood when their leader took his plunge. They fell back when they saw the Sikhs approaching them, crying out that they had been ignorant of Nurla's intention. Bob saw no reason to doubt them, but as he sent them back to rejoin their fellows up the river he reflected that he had done wisely in arranging to let only a few men pass at a time.

He had little doubt that the two fugitives would be caught. For a distance the stream ran too swiftly for runners on the bank to keep up with it, but farther north, with the widening of the channel, the rate of the current diminished. Then, whether the men continued swimming or climbed up to the track, they would be equally at the mercy of their pursuers. The threat to shoot them could hardly fail to bring about their surrender; while if they trusted to their speed along the track, they would fall into the hands of Lawrence and his party, who must now be very near. He therefore dismissed the crowd, ordered Gur Buksh to keep good watch both up- and down-stream, and returned to the house to snatch a brief nap until his brother arrived.

It was a few minutes before five when Chunda Beg woke him, and told him that the chota sahib was at hand. He ran down to the bridge, and saw with great thankfulness that Lawrence and all his party were safe. But he was disappointed to notice that, though the two Sikhs were among them, they were without Nurla Bai.

There was great shouting and handshaking among the crowd when the weary men rode over into the compound.

"Jolly glad to see you, old chap," said Bob to his brother. "You look awfully biffed. Chunda Beg has got a good meal ready for you; just cut into the house and have a rest while I dispose of a little matter in hand--then I'll come and tell you what has been going on."