Part 2

As he cast his eye northward, he suddenly became aware of a group of motionless figures about a mile away, between him and the road. Impelled by some instinct of caution, perhaps acquired during his training in the school cadets, he moved stealthily behind a jutting spur of the rock, and examined the group through his field-glass. He counted fourteen hill-men on horseback. There was no movement among them, and their attitude, with their heads towards the road, suggested patient expectation. They were too far away for him to determine accurately the configuration of the ground, but it appeared to him that they were gathered in a slight hollow about a quarter of a mile east of the road. And as he moved his glass over the intervening space, he caught sight of a small building which had hitherto escaped his notice, so like was it in colour to the rocky ground surrounding it. In general shape it reminded him of the little wayside shelters which, called dak bungalows in India, were known beyond the borders as rest-houses. But this building was apparently fallen into disuse. It was roofless, and much of the stonework of the walls was broken away.

While Lawrence was still examining the ruins and the group behind, he heard the rapid clatter of a horse's hoofs on the hard rock below. At first he could not see the horseman, who, however, presently emerged into view from behind a shoulder of rock to his right, and discovered himself as a hill-man galloping northward. Having come abreast of the rest-house, he wheeled to the right, quitted the road, and made straight for the hollow in which the group of fourteen was waiting. On joining them, he appeared to give them a message; they closed about him, and after a brief consultation they all dismounted, tethered their horses to some stunted trees at the edge of the hollow, and then moved quickly towards the rest-house. All except one entered the ruins; the one went a little distance from them, and took up a position behind a rock from which presumably he could look up the road. It was as if he was waiting to signal some one's approach.

The observer now shut his glass, clambered down from the rock, and hurried back to his companion.

"Well?" said Bob. "You've been long enough."

"Don't speak so loud. Every sound carries in these hills."

In a whisper he went on to tell what he had seen.

"Looks fishy, eh?" said Bob. "We must warn the Major. Can we do it in time?"

"Come on," said Lawrence shortly.

He remounted, and the two began to make their way back along the path, slowly at first, lest they should be heard, but more rapidly as they increased their distance from the rest-house. They had not ridden far when they caught sight, through a gap in the rocks, of a portion of the caravan. They were still a long way from the spot where the hill-track left the road; the head of the caravan would have drawn much nearer to the rest-house before they could overtake it, if they kept on their present course. To give warning by a shout would but alarm the hill-men. They could save time only by hazarding a direct descent. Turning sharply off the track, they began to scramble down the hillside, trusting themselves to their sure-footed ponies. In their excitement they gave no thought to the risks they ran, and only became partially aware of them when, reaching the road, they were met by Major Endicott, who had for some minutes been watching their venturesome feat with growing wrath and indignation.

"You young fools!" he cried. "Of all the idiotic, asinine, torn-fool tricks I ever saw----"

"But, sir----" Lawrence interrupted.

"I thank my stars I shall soon be rid of you," the Major went on unheeding; "you'll take no warning, listen to no advice, and will either break your necks or be potted by hill-men before I get quit of you."

"Really, sir, it's no joke," said Bob as soon as he could get a word in. "There's a nice little crowd ahead waiting to get an easy shot at you."

"_What's_ this?" demanded the Major.

"Oh, I just happened to spy a gang of armed hill-men sneaking into a half-ruined rest-house a mile or so ahead," said Lawrence. "We came down to warn you; it's a pity we didn't think of our necks."

"Just describe them to me, will you?" said Major Endicott, now the cool, alert soldier again.

"I couldn't see them very well, but they seemed all alike, big fellows with black beards, dressed in dark-brown, with skin hats of some sort. I counted fifteen altogether. One is on the look-out, the rest are hiding in the ruins."

"You didn't see a larger body anywhere, nor single scouts in the hills?"

"Neither."

"And how far ahead?"

"Well, about a mile as the crow flies from where I caught sight of them; we've come back a mile or more, and what with the windings of the road, I should say they're something over two miles away."

The Major had halted; the sowars sat their horses motionless a few yards behind; the mule-train was still straggling on far in the rear. The march was now resumed, Major Endicott pondering in silence the news brought him. He had no doubt that the men whom the lads had seen belonged to the tribe he was on his way to visit. His coming was almost certainly known to them, for news spreads through the hills almost as quickly as if it were flashed by telegraph. The fact that the ambuscade--such it clearly was--was so small seemed to show that the tribe as a whole was not in arms; but, as the Major well knew, many a frontier war had been precipitated by a few hot-heads, who had forced the hand of their community by some impetuous action. He foresaw trouble, but he was not the man to be diverted from his purpose by such a difficulty as this. Having set out to pacify the tribe, he meant to complete his journey; but obviously the news brought him was not to be disregarded.

He decided that he must see for himself the nature of the ambuscade, but it was necessary to act in such a way as to awaken no suspicion among the tribesmen, if, as was possible, there were watchers on the hillside. Ordering the sowars to continue their march slowly, the Major rode back with the Appletons and his native orderly until he reached the first mules of the caravan. In obedience to his command, one of the muleteers loosed the girths of the animal he led, and let the baggage it carried slip down a gentle slope at the roadside. This brought the caravan to a halt, and the wondering Astoris were instructed to go very leisurely about the work of recovering and restrapping the load. Then with Lawrence and the orderly he galloped back to the spot where the hill-track branched from the road, and turning into this, hastened on until he reached the rock whence the lad had made his observations. There taking a swift glance at the rest-house below, he came to a sudden resolution.

"If anything happens to me," he said to Lawrence, "ride back as fast as you can, and make the best of your way up the road with the caravan until you reach the nearest fort."

"But what are you going to do, sir?" asked Lawrence rather anxiously.

The Major did not reply, but spoke a few words in Urdu to the orderly. Then, leaving his horse with the two, he began to clamber down rapidly, yet with caution, in the direction of the rest-house. His course was tortuous, as much to avoid obstacles as to escape observation from the ruins, or by the man on the look-out close at hand. Every now and then he vanished from sight, and Lawrence watched nervously for his reappearance. He could not guess the Major's intentions, and it seemed to him that, foolhardy as his own exploit had been in riding down the hillside, the soldier's action in approaching alone the scene of the ambush was stark madness. When, after a long interval during which the Major had been lost to view, he suddenly emerged within a few yards of the rest-house, Lawrence caught his breath. Probably the situation was far more trying to him who watched than to the man who was apparently taking his life in his hand.

The Major was drawing near to the ruined building by a path somewhat northward of the spot from which the hill-men had entered it. Lawrence saw at once that his approach was covered from them, and from the watcher on the south side, by what remained of the north wall of the building. Tingling with curiosity and apprehension mingled, he beheld the tall soldierly figure move swiftly towards the gap which had once been the doorway, enter, and disappear.

"Good heavens! what is he about?" he thought.

He looked round at the orderly, but the man's dusky face was devoid of any expression; only his eyes gleamed as they stared fixedly at the opening by which the Major had entered.

To Lawrence the minutes seemed to lengthen into hours. He saw the look-out, a moment or two after the Major's disappearance, turn round suddenly, and hasten into the building. For some time nothing happened. There was neither sight nor sound to indicate that the building was anything more than what it seemed--an unoccupied and deserted ruin. Lawrence became more and more nervous. Major Endicott was not the man to utter a warning lightly; he had clearly anticipated a possible danger; and the tension became distressing as the lad waited and waited, expecting every moment to hear a shot, or a cry of fierce anger or savage exultation.

"What is he doing?" he asked of the orderly.

The man simply murmured "Sahib!" deprecatingly, without turning his eyes from the rest-house.

The suspense was becoming unendurable when suddenly, after what was perhaps ten minutes, but seemed as many hours, the Major's tall form reappeared in the broken doorway. The orderly's impassivity gave way for the first time; he uttered a single grunt of satisfaction. Lawrence felt unutterably relieved, yet puzzled, for by the Major's side stood one of the hill-men, and as they came out into the open they were followed by all the rest; he counted them as they filed out; the number was fifteen in all.

The Major signalled with his hand, and the two watchers, guessing at his meaning, rode on a little way until they came to the spot where he had begun his descent. Dismounting, and leading the horses carefully, they picked their way, the orderly leading, down the steep and rugged hillside. When they came to the foot, and joined the party, the Major turned to the man who had come first out of the ruins with him, and with a slight smile addressed him in a strange tongue. The man drew himself up, clicked his heels together, and saluted Lawrence in military style, murmuring:

"Salaam, sahib."

Then the whole party mounted their horses, and made their way at a walking pace up the road towards the caravan.

CHAPTER THE SECOND

BEYOND THE PALE

Of all the strange scenes which the Appletons had witnessed since their arrival in India, none was more surprising than the immediate sequel of the ambuscade. The hill-men rode in high good-temper behind their intended victims; and when they met the sowars, their leader exchanged laughing greetings with the dafadar, and the two parties became one. For the rest of that day they marched together, and at fall of night they formed a common encampment, the troopers acting as hosts towards the hill-men, and exerting themselves to entertain them.

To the Appletons it was all very mysterious. Lawrence had put a question or two to Major Endicott as they marched; but finding him strangely uncommunicative, deferred further enquiry to the hour after supper, when he was most often in the mood to talk. Even then the young fellows' curiosity was rather piqued than satisfied.

"That man Nagdu, the leader of the hill-men, was a sergeant of yours, you say, sir?" said Lawrence.

"Yes, years ago he was a dafadar in my troop."

"But he was laying an ambush for you!"

"He is paid by the government to guard the road."

"Oh!"

"Didn't know it was you, perhaps, until he saw you," suggested Bob.

"He _was_ rather surprised to see me," said the Major, and a slow smile gathered upon his face, and passed.

"My heart was in my mouth when I saw you go alone into the rest-house," said Lawrence. "And I couldn't get a word out of your man."

"Pretty close, isn't he?" said the Major. "But look here, my lads, I called you a couple of young fools a while ago. I take that back, for without you I shouldn't have had the opportunity of enjoying the surprise of Nagdu and his crew. All the same, you _were_ fools, you know," he added reflectively.

While this conversation was proceeding beneath the extended flap of the tent, another, of quite a different tenor, was going on at the nearest camp fire, fifty yards away. There Ganda Singh the dafadar and his old comrade Nagdu were seated, gazing into the glow, with their rifles across their knees.

"Hai! Ennicott Sahib is truly a very great man," said Nagdu. "We were there in the little house, with our guns on the wall, looking up the road, when there came a soft voice behind us. 'Twas like cold water trickling down my back, O Ganda. And when I turned and saw the huzur's two eyes like little bits of blue steel, I felt my soul shrivel up inside me: that is true, old friend. 'You are keeping good watch upon the road, Nagdu,' said he, and I shivered, and my voice was like a woman's when I said my salaam."

"Keeping watch upon the road!" repeated the dafadar with a sly look at the other. "Do you know, Nagdu, if any harm had come to the sahib-ji I would have put a bullet there, and there."

He touched the man's neck and breast.

"Hai! what harm could come to the huzur?" said Nagdu protestingly. "He is heaven-born, and knows. 'Keeping good watch upon the road,' he said, and when I stammered out my 'Salaam, sahib,' he went on: 'It is well. There are rascals about. I go to hold a talk with your people on that very matter, and 'tis good luck I met you, for you can take me to your village.' And I said the huzur's face was like the sun shining upon the hills, for by that time my soul was come to me again, and after a little talk we came out. Hai! Truly is Ennicott Sahib a very great man."

"Ay, he knows the heart of you hill-men. You have a little heart, Nagdu; the huzur's is a very great one. His word is a sword."

"And his eyes are like fires that burn. Is there anything he does not know? He did not see us go into the little house: we were quiet as mice in the corn; yet he knew we were there----"

"Keeping watch on the road," said Ganda Singh with a low chuckle. "You are indeed a mouse, Nagdu; would you measure yourself against a lion?"

Nagdu protested that he had no such thought, and then turned the conversation into an easier channel.

Next day on the march Lawrence Appleton found an opportunity of having a little private talk with Ganda Singh, who knew just enough English to make himself understood. Lawrence asked point-blank whether the hill-men had been lying in wait for the party, intending to fire upon them from their ambush. The dafadar neither denied nor affirmed, but contented himself with retailing the substance of what Nagdu had told him. Putting two and two together, the Appletons arrived at a very fair estimate of what had actually taken place. They realised that the hill-men, who would have shot down the Major without ruth if they had been unseen behind a wall, had been completely cowed when he appeared alone in their midst. Nagdu was a bold fellow, and had proved his mettle in many a border fray; but the habit of discipline and the impression made upon him by the Englishman's dominant personality had acted like a cold douche upon his purpose. It was the victory of a stronger nature over a weaker; and the lads formed a new idea of the Major's personal influence, and the unerring instinct with which he had probed the character of the natives.

That day the caravan came to the parting of the ways. Major Endicott's road struck off westward among the hills; the Appletons had still several days' northward march before them. The lads, if they had consulted their own tastes, would very willingly have gone with the Major; but they knew it was out of the question. They thanked him warmly for allowing them to accompany him so far.

"That's all right," said he. "Look me up if you ever come south. By the way, I've told off three sowars to see you to the frontier: there I dare say your uncle will meet you."

"But you can't spare them, sir," said Bob. "You've few enough all told."

"We aren't a fighting force, my boy. If it comes to a scrap we shan't stand the ghost of a chance, and the fewer there are of us the better. Keep to the track. My salaams to your uncle. Good-bye!"

The Appletons watched the Major and his party until the sowars who brought up the rear were out of sight: then they turned their faces once more to the north, feeling somewhat depressed. Their own portion of the caravan consisted of only five or six mules, whose loads were for the most part goods for their uncle. For two days they climbed higher into the rugged mountains that encompassed them on every side. In the day-time it was hot, though the heights were crowned with snow: but the nights were bitterly cold; icy blasts swept through the gorges, causing the lads to desert even their camp fires for the snugger blankets. They could not help wondering, with a certain misgiving, what the winter in these heights was like, if such wintry conditions could exist in the summer.

On the morning of the third day after leaving Major Endicott they were met at the British frontier by two stalwart and well-mounted Sikhs, who had been sent by their uncle to conduct them over the remaining stages of their journey; and the Major's three sowars returned to overtake their master. That night they had only just got into camp when they experienced for the first time the full rigours of a mountain storm. Dense clouds rolled down from the heights, enveloping them in a drenching icy mist. A cutting wind sprang up, and soon a hurricane of sleet and snow burst upon them, with lightning and thunder, and other rumblings which, as they learnt from their guides, were caused by avalanches and landslips among the mountains. All next day they were storm-bound, remaining rolled up in their blankets in the tent, and feeling more low-spirited than ever. On the following morning, however, the sun rose in a cloudless sky, and they set off again through a narrow pass dangerous at any time, but doubly dangerous now that the track was almost obliterated by snow-drifts. They felt a pang of commiseration for the scantily clad coolies who trudged along barefoot in snow and slush by their mules; but the men were cheerful, laughing and singing as they marched, and the Appletons envied their hardiness and vigour.

Leaving the Pamirs on their right, they threaded their way through the mountains towards what had once been the Russo-Afghan frontier. Slowly, steadily they marched on for three days, the track leading gradually downwards. Then one morning, soon after they had left camp, they saw in the far distance two horsemen riding slowly towards them.

"The huzur, sahib!" said one of the guides.

The lads lifted their glasses, and were then able to discern that the one of the two riders who wore a grey suit and a solah helmet was their uncle himself. They hastened on in front of their party, and in a quarter of an hour uncle and nephews met.

"How do?" cried Harry Appleton, gripping them in turn by the hand. "You've grown since I saw you last: I should hardly have known you."

"You look the same as ever," said Bob.

"Wait till you see me with my hat off. Hair doesn't grow on brains, they say. But I'm glad to see you, boys: you are looking uncommonly fit too. Have you had a pleasant journey?"

"Pretty good, bar a snowstorm. Major Endicott came with us best part of the way. He's gone to interview a troublesome tribe. He sent his salaams to you, Uncle."

"Much obliged to him. He thinks I'm mad, you know. Don't look it, do I?"

The boys laughed. Their uncle was a sturdy man, rather under middle height, hard and muscular, his brown face half covered with a thick moustache and beard turning slightly grey. His blue eyes were bright and piercing, with an expression of alertness and humour. He certainly did not look mad.

"Your caravan is rather smaller than I expected to see," he went on, as the mules came straggling up.

"Their loads are mostly your stuff," said Lawrence. "We've only brought a couple of bags apiece."

"Very sensible of you. I was afraid you might bring out a lot of rubbish, and wished I'd sent you a caution. But I needn't have worried, evidently."

"Well, there are one or two things coming after us," said Bob, with a shade of misgiving. "We sent them ahead by slow steamer, and as they hadn't arrived when we reached Bombay, we thought we'd better come on."

"Humph!" their uncle grunted. "It'll be a month before my next consignment comes up, so it's to be hoped you're not in a hurry for your stuff. I suppose there's not much of it. What is it?"

"There's my cricket-bag, and a couple of tennis rackets, and a set of golfing sticks," said Lawrence.

"You didn't happen to bring turf too, I suppose?" said their uncle with twinkling eyes. "The ground hereabout is all bunkers. Anything else useful?"

"There's my aeroplane," said Bob.

"Your what?"

"A monoplane. I was going into the flying corps, you know, if--

"Yes, yes," interrupted Mr. Appleton. "It must have been very disappointing, my boy, but you must cheer up. But an aeroplane!"

"It's very light and portable--perhaps a couple of mule loads at the most."

"I wasn't thinking of the mules," replied his uncle dryly. "An aeroplane in these hills will be just about as useful as a Dreadnought in a millpond. You didn't realise that the Hindu Kush is not exactly like the South Downs. Well, it can't be helped now. Anything else?"

"Nothing of any importance," said Bob, feeling a little dashed. He had looked forward to many hours of flying in his spare time, and it was rather dispiriting to find that the expense of shipping his aeroplane was to be wasted.

"Well, we'll get on," said Mr. Appleton. "With good luck we shall reach the mine before dark. You won't be sorry, I expect, to spend the night under a roof again."

They rode on, the track running generally to the north-north-west. About an hour after they started, their uncle pointed to a narrow cleft in the hills on their left hand.

"You see that path?" he said. "It runs into Afghan country. About six months after I started operations the mine was raided by a horde of ruffians who came that way."

"I say!" cried Bob. "What happened?"

"Luckily I had been put on my guard against an attack from that quarter by one of my Pathan miners. I had twelve hours' grace, and when the raiders arrived they found they'd got a tougher nut to crack than they expected. They only made one serious rush. We beat 'em off, and they moved some distance up the valley, sniped us for a day or two, and then cleared out. We've had no trouble of that sort since, though they've played highwaymen once or twice with my caravans, and in one case got a certain amount of loot. Among other things they collared a boiler that I was bringing up at huge expense from India. I don't suppose they knew what it was, but for the sake of the metal they tried to carry it through the difficult pass into their own valley. But it proved too cumbersome, as you might expect, and they had to leave it. I found it some time afterwards when shooting in the pass, at the bottom of a deep nullah, where it had rolled from the track above. It took me nearly a fortnight to recover it and bring it home, but I was glad to get it at the price."

"Things aren't all beer and skittles, then," said Bob.