Part 15

Several shots were fired at the aeroplane. Lawrence was somewhat surprised that the men were not struck with panic, like their horses, at the appearance of this strange booming monster of the air. It did not occur to him until afterwards that rumours of it must have been carried far and wide through the country for months past. Men who had seen it in its flights had described it to their neighbours or to wanderers whom they met in the hills; and although few, perhaps, of these tribesmen now present had actually seen it before, doubtless many of them had heard more or less veracious accounts of it. The frantic terror of the ponies suggested to Lawrence an idea on which he acted immediately. He abandoned his original purpose of making a preliminary reconnaissance of the whole position and then retiring to a distance to work out a plan. To a mounted force there is nothing so demoralizing as the loss of their horses. Lawrence knew this, and in a flash saw also that the Major, if he should escape from the tower, would have little to fear from an enemy pursuing on foot. He resolved therefore to attempt to stampede all the horses, and take advantage of the resulting confusion.

By the time he had come to this determination he was some distance past the nullah. Telling Fazl to drop a bomb among the horses when he again crossed it, he rose rapidly to a height of about a thousand feet, wheeled round, and swooped down in a long incline towards the camp. He scarcely realized that he was taking his life in his hands as he flew almost within point-blank range. Nor had he calculated on the possible effect of the coming explosion on the aeroplane. When he arrested his downward flight he was so near the ground that the bursting of the bomb set the machine rocking violently, and for a few moments he could scarcely control it. Cool-headed marksmen could then have taken fatal aim at him; but the Afghans were fascinated and paralysed by his headlong descent, and while they were still wondering and dreading what it might portend, the explosion of the bomb within a few yards of them struck them with terror.

Lawrence swept round to observe the effect of this bolt from the blue. A great troop of horses was galloping wildly along the nullah to the west. He caught sight of their forms, black, brown and grey, wherever there were breaks among the trees. Farther up the nullah, where the sides were less steep, the frantic animals were dashing across the country in all directions. Beneath, a few lay motionless on the ground. Loth as he was to destroy or maim the unoffending beasts, he felt that this was not an occasion for half measures: there was too much at stake. In their panic flight it was inevitable that many of the horses must dash themselves to pieces in the ravines and fissures with which the country was seamed. To prevent the rallying of the rest, he set off in pursuit. Sweeping the ground like a shepherd's dog after a flock of sheep, he flew backwards and forwards and from side to side at the heels of the terrified animals. No more bombs were necessary. The whirr of the propeller behind them drove them on at the same mad rush, and in a quarter of an hour there was not a living horse within several miles of the encampment.

On returning towards the tower, Lawrence was surprised to see that the groups of Afghans had disappeared from around it. But as he crossed the nullah there were bursts of smoke from among the trees and the undergrowth, and above the hum of the propeller he heard the characteristic whistle of bullets. Later he discovered that several holes had been drilled in the planes. The firing ceased as suddenly as it had begun. Crossing the nullah almost at right angles, the aeroplane was visible for only a few seconds to the men hidden in the bottom.

From an embrasure high up in the tower a white handkerchief was fluttering in the breeze. Lawrence wished that he had some means of communicating instantly with the Major; but the attack from which he had just escaped proved that he could not venture to alight, nor could he be of any further service to the little garrison until the nullah had been cleared. It was necessary to drive the men up the ravine in the same direction as he had already driven the horses. There might be more difficulty in this, for the enemy were completely concealed by the trees and undergrowth, so that he could not tell exactly where they were. The only plan that promised complete success was to fly some distance down the ravine, and then work up it, dropping bombs when he approached the spot where the firing had broken out.

In a few brief sentences he explained his purpose to Fazl. Making a wide sweep he came back to the nullah half a mile to the east; then, reducing speed to the minimum, but keeping at a good altitude, he followed the winding course of the gully. The enemy played into his hands. Another burst of smoke revealed their whereabouts. Fazl instantly dropped a bomb, and turning to watch the effect, cried out that a dense cloud of smoke and dust had arisen from the scene of the explosion. Lawrence wheeled round again, described a wide semicircle, passing immediately above the tower, and, regaining the nullah, repeated the manoeuvre.

This time Fazl reported that he saw men among the trees, running up the ravine. The enemy could scarcely have chosen a less secure shelter. The explosion of a bomb in so constricted a space must be many times more destructive than in the open. But Lawrence had no inclination towards needless slaughter. His object would be achieved if he drove the men away as he had driven the horses. Knowing that they were on the run, he dropped another bomb to speed their flight; then swept round again, and pursued the same tactics as had already proved so effectual. When the enemy reached the less wooded part of the nullah, he found it easy to hover about their rear, and, without the further use of bombs, to impel them to the most desperate exertions by the mere harrying pursuit of the aeroplane.

He was not content until he had driven them many miles up the nullah. Whenever they showed a disposition to break away into the open country to right or left, a swoop of the aeroplane in that direction was sufficient to send them scurrying back. In their haste and panic they did not halt to fire again, and Lawrence was at length satisfied that even if they should recover their nerve and courage, they were too far away to trouble the garrison of the tower for at least a couple of hours.

On nearing the tower, he saw that several figures had emerged from the door at the foot. He glided down to within a few yards of it, and shouted a greeting to Major Endicott, who waved his hand in response. Then he sought for a landing-place. The ground in the immediate vicinity was too broken to allow of a safe descent; but after circling round once or twice, he discovered a space sufficiently flat and open for his purpose about a quarter of a mile away. Alighting there, he left the aeroplane in Fazl's charge, and, feeling very shaky on his legs after the exhausting and nervous work of the past two hours, he walked back to meet the British officer.

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."

"Aeroplane _perfectly_ safe 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 plane 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.