Part 23

On returning towards the bend he saw that the bombs had wrought great havoc there. One at least of the guns was dismounted: the track was strewn with prostrate forms; and near the rampart only a few men could be seen scurrying up the hillside to find shelter among the rocks. Fazl dropped another bomb, aiming as nearly as possible at the guns that were still in position. The further breastwork was deserted: as Lawrence crossed it the drawbridge was blown up, and a cheer rose from the little garrison now lining the walls of the compound.

Lawrence passed up the valley. It was twenty minutes since he started from the platform. His fuel would last little more than an hour and a half. Going and returning his flight could continue for a bare hundred miles. It was now about four o'clock; in two hours the valley would be dark. If he did not sight the relieving force within less than an hour--that is, within fifty miles--he must return to the mine without the message of hope. Even if he should see it, he reflected that many hours must elapse before it could reach the mine, however much the march was forced. This consideration made him decide to shorten his flight; he must reserve enough petrol to carry the aeroplane once more over the enemy, so that he could use against them the four bombs he had left.

Flying low upon the river, he recognized at every few miles the scenes of the various episodes of this prolonged contest. Here was the wide extension of the gorge where the hapless aeroplane had no doubt made its turns: just beyond was the open country where the Pathans had stood at bay against the Kalmucks; farther south, the scene of his capture by Nurla Bai. With anxious concentration he scanned the track; not a man was in sight. To obtain a wider view he swept up in a long plane, and presently caught sight in the far distance of the hill tower in which Major Endicott had been besieged. This was a clear signal that he must turn in a few minutes.

Just as he was on the point of wheeling round, both he and Fazl simultaneously gave a shout. Rounding a bend of the track, about five miles away, was a column of marching horsemen. The sun flashed upon polished metal. Lawrence lifted his field glass, and after a brief glance through it uttered a second cry: he had recognized the British khaki. In the joy of this discovery he ventured to fly on for another two miles under engine power, then shut off the engine and made a gradual vol plane down to the track, alighting at an open spot about a mile from the head of the advancing force. By this time the whole of the column was in sight. It was very small in comparison with the vast horde against which it was to be pitted; there were not half as many men as he had seen within five miles of the mine, to say nothing of the thousands marching up from the north. But he noticed that it had two field guns, and a mountain battery carried on mules; and if only it could arrive in time, he had little doubt that British arms and pluck and discipline would triumph even over the great host of the enemy.

Leaving the aeroplane under Fazl's care, Lawrence hastened forward towards the column. To his still greater joy he recognised in the officers marching at the head, Major Endicott himself and Captain Fenton. They were trotting forward to meet him. The Major had one arm in a sling.

"All well?" shouted the Major from a distance.

"Hard pressed, but still holding out," replied Lawrence.

There were hearty hand-clasps when they met.

"I was afraid we should be too late--had no end of a job to get this scratch column together," said the Major. "How far are we from the mine?"

"About thirty miles, I think."

"I hoped it was less. We've been marching all day, and the horses can't possibly do thirty miles without a rest. Just tell me how matters stand, will you?"

"When I left, about three-quarters of an hour ago, my brother had just been forced back into the mine."

"Did he leave it, then?" interrupted the Major.

"Oh yes! He has till now held the enemy off some distance down the track. But their artillery was too much for us, and we're now in the last ditch, so to speak. Bob has blown up the bridge, so the enemy can't get across immediately; and my little Gurkha has done a good deal of damage among their guns with bombs; but the track is now open to them; they'll bring more guns up, and be able to pound us at point-blank range. We've lost a good many men; we've only a few rounds of ammunition left for the machine gun, and precious little for the rifles."

"Dynamite?"

"I've got the last of it in four bombs in the aeroplane."

"Can't your men shelter in the galleries from the enemy's bombardment?"

"For a little while, no doubt. But what I'm afraid of is that the enemy will find some means of crossing the river during the night: if they do it's all up. There appears to be a general directing operations, and after being baulked for a week he won't be satisfied until he's made a clean sweep of us."

"It's touch and go, evidently. What do you say, Fenton?"

"We couldn't do thirty miles on this ground in less than six hours if the horses were fresh: and if we push on at once they'll collapse before we're half way there. We must have at least a three hours' rest."

The Major pulled at his moustache meditatively.

"Aren't we near that place where you had your smash, Appleton?" he said suddenly.

"Yes; it's a few miles down."

"Then I'll tell you what I'll do. A lot of these fellows with me are used to work on the Indus. I'll get them to make a big raft like the one your Kalmucks floated the aeroplane on, and send on a dozen in advance. The current will gain us three miles an hour; the men should get to the neighbourhood of the mine about three. If you could manage to meet them and carry them in relays into the mine they'd be of great use. I'll give you some ammunition, too. Fly back at once: the knowledge that we're coming will buck your men up; and the rest of us will hurry on as soon as possible."

On reaching the aeroplane, the whole force dismounted. Lawrence was introduced to Captain Coats, the army surgeon whom he had heard mentioned in the frontier house. While some of the men placed in the cockpit as many cartridges as it could carry, others went into the wood to cut timber for the raft. Lawrence had some difficulty in starting the engine; but it ran smoothly after a little while, and taking a cheery leave of the officers he started for the north.

He had come within about five miles of the mine when a prolonged miss-fire made it imperative to descend at once. Luckily there was just room for him to alight at the edge of a small wooded tract. He was the more perturbed at the delay because he heard distinctly the dull rumble of artillery fire in the north. Stripping off his coat, he began with Fazl's help to overhaul the engines. Apparently the defect was in the carburetter, but for some little time the precise origin of the mis-fire was undiscoverable. Meanwhile the depths of the valley were already shrouded in dusk, and Lawrence, never having attempted a flight by night, became more and more anxious as time went on, lest he should be overtaken by complete darkness before he regained the platform.

At last the defect was ascertained and remedied. Lawrence had just put on his coat, and Fazl was in the act of replacing the plugs, when there was a sudden volley from the wood near by, and six wild and haggard Kalmucks came towards the aeroplane with a rush. The Gurkha went on calmly with his work: Lawrence snatched up his rifle and fired. One of the attackers fell; the rest dashed on only the more furiously, howling like famished animals. Lawrence fired again; Fazl started the engine; both then sprang to their places, and pressing the throttle Lawrence set the machine gliding forward.

By this time the Kalmucks were within a few yards. Fazl stooped for his rifle, to take a parting shot at them. As he rose he noticed that an extraordinary thing had happened. Just as the aeroplane was lifting, one of the Kalmucks, outstripping the rest, had taken a grip of the chassis, as if attempting to drag it down. He retained his grasp a little too long, and was carried up into the air. Fazl now saw him convulsively drawing himself up to clutch one of the stays of the main plane.

What had happened was hidden from Lawrence by the projecting planes. Fazl made no sound; but there was an odd look upon his face as he quietly slipped a cartridge into the breech of his rifle, took careful aim at one of the four men on the track below, and brought him to the ground.

"Tchigin, sahib," he said.

"Never mind about the Kalmucks," said Lawrence. "Just fill up the tank, will you?"

Fazl laid down his rifle, took a petrol can, and poured its contents into the tank below the pilot's seat. There was nothing of haste or excitement in his manner. He tipped the can until the last drop was drained, and having set it down, rubbed his hands on his coat. Then he drew his kukuri, and bent over slowly towards the Kalmuck, who was clinging to the stay in grim and speechless terror. Fazl gazed steadily into the man's eyes. He lifted his terrible weapon; there was one swift whizzing stroke through the air; and the lost man fell headlong into the river, three hundred feet below. Fazl wiped his blade.

"What's that?" asked Lawrence, as the aeroplane gave a sudden upward jerk.

"Nurla Bai, sahib."

CHAPTER THE TWENTY-EIGHTH

THE LAST FIGHT

Lawrence landed in the twilight on his platform. All sounds of combat had ceased. His first care was to see exactly how much petrol was left. There was enough for about twenty minutes' flight: then the aeroplane would be doomed to inactivity.

"Look over the machine," he said to Fazl, "and come after me when you have finished. What did you mean about Nurla Bai?"

"He has gone into the river, even as he sent the huzur."

"You shot him? But no: you did not fire. What happened?"

"He came along with us, sahib. He caught the chassis as we rose, and we were gone before he could let go. He clung to the stay. I cut him down."

Lawrence's blood ran cold with horror. In spite of the man's brutalities and crimes, he could not but feel moved by the terrible fate that had befallen the revolted miner. It was well deserved: yet Lawrence wished that Nurla could have met his death in open fight. He said no more to Fazl, but went along the pathway now enwrapt in darkness, to discover what had happened during his absence, and to give the garrison his promise of relief.

The compounds were deserted. No lights were visible. At first he thought that the men must already have taken refuge in the galleries; but as he came to the end of the pathway he saw them all grouped at the rear of the house under the cliff, behind a mound of tailings. They were very silent. Only a sound like a multitudinous sigh broke from them when he drew near.

"Where's my brother?" he asked anxiously, as Gur Buksh saluted.

"Here, sahib: he is hurt."

The group parted, and Lawrence saw Bob with his head and one arm bandaged, reclining in a long chair.

"Nothing very serious, I hope," said Bob with a smile, as Lawrence bent over him. "A bullet in my arm just below the shoulder, and a whack in the skull from a splinter of rock. Any news, old chap!"

"Yes, thank God! Endicott himself is within less than thirty miles, with three or four hundred men, field pieces and mountain batteries. There's a medico with him, so we'll soon put you to rights."

"Tell the men, will you?"

Lawrence gathered the men about him and quickly gave the information. A company of British soldiers would have received it with a ringing cheer: these Asiatics merely murmured praises to Allah, mingled with triumphant execrations of the enemy.

"It'll be as much as we can do to hold out until the Major arrives," said Bob in a low tone. "Is he coming on at once?"

"No, unluckily. His horses were dead beat: he said they must have three or four hours' rest, and I'm afraid he can't be here until four or five o'clock in the morning at the earliest. But he has sent some ammunition, and a dozen men are coming in advance on a raft; they should arrive about three o'clock. I intend to meet them a little way up, and bring them in on the aeroplane. I've just enough petrol left."

"That's good. We're practically helpless here. They've knocked the wall about with their field pieces from the breastwork, and smashed the machine gun. We couldn't hold the wall any longer. The carbide has given out, so that we can't make any more acetylene for the searchlight, and the track's free for them now. I only hope that as they've forced the passage they won't trouble us any more, but go straight ahead in the morning. They little suspect what's in store for them!"

"They may possibly leave us alone, but they're hardly human if they don't try a shot or two at the aeroplane, especially when they discover what has happened to their own."

"What did happen to it, by the way?"

Lawrence described the incidents of the manoeuvring up and down river, and the extraordinary scene at the turning-place. It was then that he and Bob argued about the cause of the final collapse, almost forgetting their actual circumstances in discussing the scientific problem. They were suddenly recalled to realities, however, by sounds from the opposite bank--the ringing clatter of horses' hoofs and the rumble of wheels.

"They're moving their guns up," said Bob. "No doubt they've only been waiting for the dark. Listen! We shall soon know what they mean to do."

Both chafed at their inability to impose any check upon the movement. Rifle fire from their few men would be ineffective in the darkness; it would moreover be a signal to the gunners to sweep the wall with shell. They were not long in doubt as to the enemy's intentions. The noises ceased. It was clear that the Kalmucks were going to wreak vengeance upon the garrison of the mine before continuing their march up stream. Bob recalled the old military maxim: never leave an enemy in your rear. At dawn they would no doubt open fire from the guns placed exactly opposite the mine, and as soon as they discovered the aeroplane on its platform beyond the shoulder of the cliff they would smash it to atoms.

"I've still a few bombs left," said Lawrence. "I might destroy their guns if I could only see them. Isn't there enough acetylene for ten minutes' light, Bob?"

"Not for one, worse luck. You certainly can't do anything in the dark. There's just one chance, though."

"What's that?"

"You could light a big fire on the buttress yonder. It might show just enough light for the purpose."

"I'll try it. I tell you what: I'll fire the shed itself, with a lot of combustibles inside. We can easily build another afterwards if Endicott gets rid of the enemy."

"We shan't want to do that. If we're alive to-morrow morning we shan't think of staying here any longer."

"Leave the mine, you mean?"

"Yes: take poor old Uncle's silver ore to India and sell it for what it's worth. I don't know how much that will be, but it ought to give us enough money to keep us while we're looking round for some other job: I've had enough of mining. In any case we couldn't stay here. The place would remind us too much of Uncle and all the tragic horrors."

"You're right: though I don't like the idea of caving in. Now I'll get some of the men to carry grease and things to the shed. Can Chunda give me some grub? I'm very hungry."

"We've got all our provisions either here or in the galleries. We were very lucky to have so much; it will last for two or three weeks more."

While Lawrence made his supper, Fyz Ali and three or four other Pathans conveyed to the platform combustibles of all kinds, returning with the ammunition sent by Major Endicott. Then Bob insisted on Lawrence's sleeping for a few hours. About three o'clock in the morning Lawrence returned with Fazl to the aeroplane. They kindled several fires in the shed, leaving the door open. When the flames gave them light enough, they started the engine and flew off up the river, hearing sounds of commotion among the enemy on the track. Never having flown by night before, Lawrence was rather nervous; but he reached the turning-place safely, wheeled round without mishap, and flew northwards into the stretch of a few hundred yards now illuminated by the blazing shed.

There were four bombs left. Lawrence had instructed Fazl to drop two as they passed over the guns, reserving the other two for use as they returned if they should discover that the first had not been effective. They saw two guns placed on the track just opposite the bridge. The Gurkha, leaning over perilously, let fall two bombs together. There was a terrific crash and a babel of yells; but they could not yet tell what damage had been done. The aeroplane was beyond the illuminated area, and Lawrence had to concentrate his attention on the machine as he flew northwards in the darkness. He felt that he could not risk an attempt to turn until he reached the wide space seven miles down stream, and he was very anxious lest the engine should fail for want of petrol before he could get back. It was quite clear that to bring Major Endicott's advanced party of twelve into the mine was now impossible. By the time the aeroplane should have reached its platform, if it did so, every ounce of fuel would be used up.

For safety's sake he rose to a considerable height. The grey light of dawn was stealing over the summits of the hills. He turned and flew back, watching the engine nervously. As soon as he came to the neighbourhood of the mine, he saw the enemy scuttling away from the track into nooks and crannies in the face of the cliff. The sound of the propeller had been the signal for a general _sauve qui peut_. Fazl dropped his last two bombs opposite the bridge, and then the aeroplane passed into the cloud of smoke drifting up and across the river from the conflagration.

Lawrence saw that the petrol would not last another three minutes. He utilised the expiring power of the engine to rise still higher, so that when it failed he would be at a sufficient altitude to make a long vol plane back to his platform. He had just turned when he detected a lessening of power. The engine began to splutter; then it ceased to work.

It was a terrifying moment. In the darkness he could not read the aneroid that indicated his altitude. He did not know whether the angle of the descent which had already begun would bring him to earth before he reached the platform. Gently, easily as the machine swooped down, it might land him on the track where he would be completely at the mercy of the enemy. He looked anxiously ahead. The flaming shed came in sight, but dimmed by the pall of smoke that lay over the bottom of the gorge. He steered into the smoke towards the platform, but, half blinded by the reek, he missed it, and only by a sudden movement of the lever, that was itself almost disastrous, did he save the machine from dashing against the cliff. Luckily the smoke hid him from the enemy. By another dexterous feat of steering he rounded the bend, and in a few seconds dropped with a quivering shock upon the fence that separated the Pathans' from the Kalmucks' compound. With every nerve jarring he sprang out of his seat. Fazl followed him, and between them they dragged the aeroplane from its uneasy perch and laid it behind the fence. Even now his chief thought was to protect from the enemy's fire the machine which had served him so well. Only when it was quite invisible to them did he hasten across the compound, scale the second fence in the darkness, and rejoin his brother in the sheltered nook behind the house.

"Just managed it!" he panted, throwing himself down. "The engine failed; I missed the platform, and came down on the fence. The chassis is rather rumpled, but no other damage done. I should have been wild if the machine had come utterly to grief."

"It's more important that you're safe, old boy," said Bob. "Did you succeed?"

"Morning will show. Fazl declares that he hit the guns; I don't know. I wish I could have brought those men of Endicott's in. I dare say they heard me as I passed over the track, and are wondering why I didn't come down for them."

"We can't help it. I only hope the Major himself started in time."

Dawn was stealing down into the valley. Ganda Singh crept on all fours to the wall and peeped over. In a few minutes he returned and reported that there was nothing opposite the bridge but a mass of broken rock and metal. The guns had been destroyed. But the Kalmucks were scattered along the track between the bridge and the bend, crouching behind rocks and entrenchments which they had thrown up during the night. Apparently they were unaware of the descent of the aeroplane, and dreaded another attack by bombs.

It was hardly light when a fierce bombardment broke out from the bend. Shells crashed upon the northern wall, and whistled into the deserted compounds, scattering earth in all directions, and filling the air with noisome fumes.

"We're safe here for the present," said Bob, whose face looked pinched and pale in the light of the morning. "But when they find we don't reply, and there's no other attack from the aeroplane, they'll bring their guns along and pound us from the opposite bank. When it gets too hot we must go into the galleries. Before they can repair the bridge and cross, Endicott ought to be here."

He had scarcely spoken when a shell plumped into the house, and set it on fire. The garrison were enveloped in a mantle of smoke. But as the smoke drifted across the river, the Kalmucks, taking courage from the quiescence of the defenders, rushed forward from their shelters and began to throw a light framework over the torrent between the rock in midstream and the end of the ruined bridge. The sudden cessation of the bombardment gave Bob an inkling of what was to come; next moment loud yells from beyond the river made it clear.

"They're coming at us," he said quietly to Lawrence. "They must have made a bridge. We can't retreat now. You must do your best, old chap."

Though Lawrence begged him to remain on his chair, Bob got up and accompanied the little band as they rushed towards the river wall to meet the storming party. They were no more than thirty; the track swarmed with the enemy. The improvised bridge would not support more than thirty at a time, so that the attackers and the defenders of the wall were equal in point of number; but the Kalmucks had posted many sharpshooters in the rocks above the track, who could fire over their comrades' heads and pick off the garrison manning the wall and the gap where the end of the drawbridge had been.

It was a fierce and terrible struggle hand to hand. The defenders could deal only with the storming party; they had no leisure to attend to the half-concealed marksmen among the rocks. With bayonet, clubbed rifle, sword and miner's pick they sought desperately to stem the attack. Gur Buksh had distributed the Sikhs among the miners to give them steadiness; but the Pathans, inspired by the fury of their own leaders, Fyz Ali and Muhammad Din, needed no encouragement from the disciplined men. Shan Tai and Chunda Beg had thrown themselves into the fray with picks. Of all the little community only Ditta Lai and the Bengali servants remained in the rear; they were physically unfit to bear a part in the great fight. It was much to their credit that, at this crisis in affairs, they did not cower in frantic terror, but toiled hard to raise a rampart of boxes, tins, and bags of earth opposite the mouth of the gallery.