Part 5

Ditta Lal looked hurt, but tried to smile. It was an hour before the aeroplane reappeared, and another hour before the boys rejoined their uncle.

"We made a splendid flight," said Bob, who was in the highest spirits. "Everything worked perfectly. You must come for a trip yourself, Uncle."

"No, thank you. I am vastly relieved to see you back safe and sound. The Babu has begun calculating again, and got on my nerves."

"Calculating, is he?" said Lawrence. "I should have thought he had had enough of that. I wonder if we can cure him."

He called to Ditta Lal, who was standing at the door of his store-shed.

"What weight do you suppose the aeroplane will carry?" he asked.

"I do not suppose, sir," replied the Babu. "I have worked it out. Permit me to express jubilation at successful trip, sir. You ask about weight." He drew a paper from his pocket. "Here are correct figures. You can carry fifteen hundred and eighty-six pounds six ounces, with four decimals of no account."

"What do you scale, Bob?" asked Lawrence.

"Twelve stone two."

"I'm eleven stone eight: together we make about three hundred and thirty pounds. Ditta Lal, _there's just room for you_!"

For a moment the Babu looked puzzled. Then he said:

"It is human to err, sir. I must have made trifling error in my additions. I revise my calculations."

And he went away, evidently determined to discover either that the aeroplane would not support so great a load as he had calculated, or that his own weight considerably exceeded twelve hundred pounds.

A daily flight became part of the boys' programme. They did not tell their uncle of the difficulties they had to contend with, but these were real enough. To start from and alight on so narrow a platform as the ledge furnished was in itself a severe test of airmanship; but the problems of actual flight were still more serious. The gorge was so narrow that it gave them little room for evolutions. There were only one or two spots, either up or down stream, at which they could turn with safety; and when the wind came in sudden gusts down the mountain side the act of turning, even in these comparatively open spaces, was attended with much danger. They could only avoid the peril by ascending to altitudes which as yet Bob was unwilling to attempt. But a few weeks' practice developed in them a kind of instinct for dodging the risks to which the circumscribed space rendered them liable; and though they had one or two lucky escapes they met with no real mishap.

All this time they got a good deal of quiet amusement out of their uncle's attitude. At first he affected to regard the aeroplane as a plaything, and a somewhat dangerous plaything, much as an elderly person watching a child playing with fireworks expects him sooner or later to burn his fingers. In the early days of their flying he was indeed genuinely nervous, and tried by means of hints and warnings to wean them from their sport. But as time passed, and none of his fears were realised, they perceived that he was becoming less uneasy and more and more interested. One day he actually accompanied them to the shed, which he had never yet visited, and watched them as they drew the aeroplane out on to the ledge, made a methodical inspection of the engine, and prepared for their flight.

"A neat piece of mechanism," he said. "Much stronger than it looks from a distance."

Lawrence surreptitiously winked at Bob.

"Yes, it's strong enough," said Bob, smiling as he continued his task of cleaning one of the cylinders.

"What load can you carry?" asked Mr. Appleton presently. "I don't trust the Babu's calculations."

"A thousand pounds or more," replied Lawrence, who was examining the gearing of the propeller.

"You've only two seats," Mr. Appleton went on, after an interval of silence. "Some machines will carry three, I suppose."

"Oh yes," answered Bob. "We could easily rig up a third seat. Pity you dislike the thing so much, Uncle."

Mr. Appleton did not reply. When the boys got into their places, he did not warn them to be careful, as his habit was, but bade them good-bye as unconcernedly as if they had been going for a short train journey.

"He's fishing for an invitation," said Lawrence to his brother as they rose into the air. "Bet you what you like we have him with us within a week."

But the period proved to be even shorter. Before leaving the aeroplane that evening, they spent an hour or two in making a third seat. Two days later, when Mr. Appleton again crossed to their ledge to see them fly off, he noticed the addition.

"Who's your second passenger?" he asked.

"Gur Buksh said that he'd like to try a flight," replied Bob: "but knowing how much you disapprove of the machine, he hasn't ventured to ask your permission yet."

"Humph! I don't think I can allow that--at any rate, until I have tried it myself."

"You don't mean it, Uncle!"

"Well, having an hour to spare, I think perhaps--I've a very open mind, you know."

"Come _on_, sir!" cried Lawrence, slapping him on the back. "That's sporting, upon my word."

"Don't fly away with me," said Mr. Appleton, as he got into his place. "One hour: no more."

But when they were soaring northward down the river, and came to where the valley broadened out into the plains of Turkestan, Mr. Appleton forgot altogether about his time limit. The old adventurous spirit was still strong in him; after the first few minutes he was quite at his ease, and even when Bob "banked" the machine in wheeling round, or when a sudden gust swept through a rent in the mountain and made the aeroplane heel over slightly, he showed no nervousness. The flight lasted two hours, and as they walked back along the pathway, Mr. Appleton said--

"If the country were only flatter, I might be tempted to go in for flying myself. It's most exhilarating. But I'm afraid I'd never be much good at it. I fancy it ought to be learnt young, like golf."

After that both Mr. Appleton and Gur Buksh were occasional passengers with the boys. One day, as Lawrence was watching from the compound the flight of Bob accompanied by the Sikh, Ditta Lal came to his side.

"I am consumed with envy, sir," he said: "envy, eldest born of hell, as blind poet sings."

"Why, what's wrong?"

"Why, sir, that unlettered Sikh learns secrets of empyrean hidden from me, B.A. of Calcutta University."

"Well, we'll take you, any time you like."

"Alas, sir! I am, through no fault of my own, fat and scant of breath, and rapid transit through rarefied atmosphere would blow me out--I mean, put disastrous strain upon my panting lungs."

"D'you know, Babu, I think you're a funk."

"I repel charge with honest indignation, sir. I am bold as a lion, king of beasts--on terra firma, sir."

They had been using the aeroplane for about a fortnight when a convoy of provisions arrived. The leader of the caravan brought news which gave interesting material for discussion at the supper-table, and which was talked over with scarcely less eagerness among the natives. The man reported that he had had great difficulty in getting through. Apparently an embargo had been laid on all food stuffs. Armed and mounted men were flocking south-west from all parts of Mongolia, and the talk of the country was that another great movement against Russia was in preparation.

"They'll have a tougher job this time," said Mr. Appleton, in the quiet hour before bedtime. "It was easy enough to lop off one of the extremities of the empire, but they'll find things more difficult as they near the European border, if that's what they are aiming at. I don't know whether you know anything about history----"

"I know Napoleon's campaigns, not much else," said Bob.

"Well, you can take it from me, then, that when the Mongols were at their strongest they couldn't keep a permanent footing in European Russia. But there's such a lot of them, all mounted, too, that there's just a chance they may sweep across the southern plains as their forefathers did. Russia is in a bad way; they know that, of course. This long war with Germany has broken her credit; she's seething with unrest and rebellion; Finland's in revolt at last, and I shouldn't wonder if the Poles make a move now: they wouldn't before, because they don't love the Germans. It'll be rather curious if the Mongols do cut a slice out of the bloated monster."

A night or two after this, when the caravan had departed, Bob awoke in the small hours, and feeling rather thirsty, got up for a drink. The day had been very hot, and before returning to bed he sat at the open window to inhale the fresh cool breeze that blew along the gorge. Everything was very still. All that he could hear was the gurgling of the stream, now swollen to its full extent by the melted snow from the mountains; and the occasional whinny of a horse from the sheds that served as stables on the other side.

He had sat thus for a few minutes drinking in the beauty of the night when his eye was caught by a faint glow in the distance. It seemed to be near the entrance of the Pathan gallery, his own section of the mine. The glow flickered; it was not strong enough to light up the surroundings.

"That's very curious," he thought, and was on the point of awaking Lawrence, when it occurred to him that he would look rather foolish if it proved to be nothing but a colony of glow-worms. He knew nothing of natural history, or he would not have suspected the possibility of finding glowworms in such a spot. But he was sufficiently curious to feel that he must find out the cause of the light. He could not leave the house without passing through his uncle's room, and unwilling to disturb the household, he made up his mind to climb out of the window, which was at no great distance above the ground. The timbers of the upper part of the house were rough; and a practised climber would find no difficulty in descending by availing himself of their inequalities until he reached the stone part and could drop.

He pulled on his socks, thrust his arms into his smoking jacket, and clambered out. The sound he made in reaching the ground was so faint that it did not disturb the doorkeeper, slumbering Indian fashion on the threshold thirty feet away. Crossing the compound on tiptoe, he came to the fence, and regretted that he had not thought to bring his key of the gate: there was nothing for it but to scale the obstacle. This he did, and crossed the Kalmuck section in the same way, moving very quietly, for he did not wish to attract the attention of the sentry on duty at the drawbridge or to rouse the settlement.

From the time of his dropping from the window until he had crossed the second fence and stood in the Pathan section, the glow had been hidden from him. It now revealed itself as originating in the mine gallery. The glow was diffused through the opening, though the source of light was not visible. No one had any business there after the bugle had sounded the time for ceasing work. Thinking that perhaps the Pathan foreman, Muhammad Din, had forgotten to extinguish one of the torches that were employed for lighting the miners at their work, Bob was about to cross the ground and enter the gallery without precaution. But he was checked by the thought that the explanation might not be so simple. He threw a glance round the compound. All was dark and quiet. Then he stole across to the mouth of the gallery, and after a moment's pause entered it.

Some little distance from the entrance a torch was burning in its socket on the wall. Nobody was in sight. If there was indeed a trespasser in the mine, he was either behind one of the beams supporting the roof, or farther down the gallery. This was straight from the opening up to the torch, which was so placed as to light a further stretch that bent a little inwards. Bob went along carefully, looking behind every beam and into every recess, but without discovering an intruder.

Having come level with the torch, he stopped, and glancing round the curving wall, was surprised to see another light about twenty paces ahead. It was burning but dimly; the ventilating apparatus was not at work; but the illumination was sufficient to reveal the figure of a man bending to the floor, engaged apparently in gathering small fragments of rock. Bob could not identify the man, whose back was towards him. Whatever his object was, there was something suspicious in his having chosen the dead of night for carrying it out; and Bob at once made up his mind to steal upon the man, seize him, and haul him before Mr. Appleton. He crept forward; there were only about a dozen paces between the two. But while he was in the very act of making his leap, he was conscious of a rush of feet behind him. Next moment he was struck by a heavy object, and fell on his face to the floor of the gallery. His head hit the hard rock; there was one instant of intense pain, and then his senses forsook him.

CHAPTER THE SIXTH

NURLA BAI DISAPPEARS

Bob never knew how long he lay unconscious on the floor of the gallery. When he came to himself he was in darkness: only the smoky atmosphere remained to bear witness to the reality of the torches. He rose dizzily to his feet, feeling sick and giddy as the result both of his blow and of the close air, and groped his way slowly to the entrance. There the cool breeze somewhat revived him; but he found it difficult to make his way past the obstacles which had given him no trouble before. To scale the fences cost much labour, and he was near fainting by the time he reached the house. Having no key with him, he had to waken the darwan who lay wrapped in rugs on his mat before the door. The man was much surprised to see him, but said nothing as he gave him admittance. Bob crept upstairs quietly; his uncle's door was open, and he managed to cross the room without waking him. Then he dropped on to his bed and nudged his brother.

"You're a juggins," said Lawrence rather unfeelingly, when he had heard the story. "That's the sort of thing they do in the school stories, when the bold bad bully climbs down the gutterpipe and sneaks off to the pub to play cards and swill swipes. But I say, you're not hurt, old man?"

"The whack on the head rather crumpled me up," replied Bob.

Lawrence was out of bed in a trice, lit his candle, and bent over his brother.

"There's a bump as big as a duck's egg," he said. "Jolly lucky your head's hard, old chap! Turn over, and I'll bathe it."

In getting the water-can he stumbled over his boots, making a slight noise.

"It's time you fellows were asleep, came a muffled voice through the door. Mr. Appleton had awoke, and fancied that the boys had not yet settled down for the night.

"Shall we tell him?" said Lawrence.

"I meant to wait till morning, but as he's awake--yes, I think we had better."

Lawrence opened his uncle's door.

"I say, Uncle," he said, "Bob fancied he heard burglars and went prowling without a knuckle-duster----"

"Go to bed," growled Mr. Appleton, only half awake.

"It'll keep till morning, but I think you had better hear it now. I'll tell you through the doorway while I bathe Bob's head."

"What's wrong with his head?"

When Lawrence explained how Bob had seen a glow from the window, in the Pathan section of the mine, Mr. Appleton sat up, now thoroughly awakened. He listened to the rest of the story in silence. At its conclusion he said:

"Just cut downstairs and tell that fellow at the door to hold his tongue about it. Why on earth didn't you wake me at once, Bob, instead of playing that schoolboy trick?"

"I didn't want to disturb you."

"That's all very well, though you wouldn't have hurt an old campaigner like me. You ought to have told me at once, and then we might have caught the rascal. I'm afraid there's trouble ahead, and I've a shrewd suspicion who's at the bottom of it. You didn't recognize the man in the gallery?"

"No; his back was towards me."

"What's it mean, Uncle?" asked Lawrence, returning.

"It means that some one--Nurla Bai, I fancy--suspects that I've found silver, or at any rate something better than copper. You remember how he'd been trespassing on the night you came. But how did he get across? You saw all the men off the premises at bugle call, Bob?"

"Yes."

"Then he's either in league with the sentry, or caught him napping, though I don't understand how Gur Buksh and his men could have slept through the groaning and creaking of the drawbridge."

"Perhaps it wasn't Nurla at all, but some one on this side," suggested Lawrence.

"I don't believe it for a moment. The Sikhs are perfectly trustworthy; the servants too; and the Babu, though as inquisitive as a monkey, is quite honest and knows nothing about ores--though I daresay he wouldn't own it. Look here! we must say nothing whatever about this matter. To refer to it publicly would only stir up unrest among the workmen, and might lead to disturbances between the Pathans and the Kalmucks. Each set would accuse the other. We must keep quiet for a day or two, and watch. You had better not show up to-morrow, Bob. To see you with your head bandaged would set every one talking."

"I shall be all right in the morning," said Bob.

"I hope so. By the way, you were struck from behind, you say?"

"Yes: there are evidently two men in it."

"So much the better. There'll be two quaking in their shoes, and we may be able to spot signs of guilt in their manner. Keep your eye on Nurla and Black Jack, who follows him like a shadow. You made the darwan understand he's not to talk, Lawrence?"

"He won't say a word, I'm sure."

"Then get to bed. I see you've bandaged Bob's head in a workmanlike way. Where did you learn that?"

"Ambulance work in the school cadet corps, Uncle."

"Ah! They manage things better than when I was young. Good-night, boys."

Bob found himself much better in the morning, and declined his uncle's suggestion that he should remain in bed. But his wound was too painful to allow of his wearing a hat, and his appearance bareheaded, and with a strip of sticking plaster on his neck just behind his ear, caused many curious eyes to be turned towards him. Only the Babu made any reference to it. Inquisitiveness was his failing, and he could never keep his tongue still.

"I perceive, sir," he said, "that you are not in your usual salubrity. Your countenance is pale, and I opine from patch upon your neck that all is not O.K. Pardon me, have you abraded the cuticle?"

Bob looked at him.

"Because, sir," the Babu continued with great deference, "I have in my store sticky plaster, powdered alum, gold-beater's skin, sweet olive oil, cold cream scented with roses, all things warranted to make epidermis blooming and good as new. Item and in addition, perhaps a little cooling draught may reduce inflammability and----"

"Oh, shut up!" said Bob, and the Babu went away smiling but sorrowful.

The three Englishmen went about their usual occupations as if nothing had occurred. They watched the workmen narrowly for signs of guilt, but could detect nothing. The Pathans were frankly curious and sympathetic; the faces of the Kalmucks were as expressionless as they always appear to Europeans. Nurla Bai, who was the special object of Mr. Appleton's attention, was inscrutable: there was no change in his demeanour.

Convinced that his assailant had in some way crossed the river in the darkness of the previous night, Bob was at a loss to guess how he had accomplished the feat. In the interval at mid-day, when the men had trooped across the drawbridge for their meal, he suggested to Lawrence that they should walk along the pathway to the ledge on which they kept the aeroplane, and see if there were some fordable place which had escaped their uncle's notice. On the way they examined every foot of the cliff below them. It rose sheer from the bed of the river, so steep and smooth as to afford no foothold for man or beast. Even if the river had been swum or forded, it would have been impossible for any one to climb up to the level platform on which the mine works were situated. Nor could the most hardy and adventurous stranger have approached from above, for the slope was too steep to give foothold to a mountain sheep. In the other direction, down-stream, access was equally impossible, and for a time both the boys felt thoroughly baffled.

At length, however, Lawrence made a discovery. In retracing his steps towards the plank pathway he climbed out upon a huge buttress of rock that projected some feet into the river.

"Take care!" cried Bob, feeling some alarm at the risk his brother was running.

"All right, old man," returned Lawrence. "It's rather a fine view down the gorge from here. You'd better try it yourself when your head's mended."

He picked his way carefully over the somewhat uneven rock, and had gone three parts of the way round its circumference when he suddenly stood fixed, staring at something in front and a little below him.

"By George!" he ejaculated in an undertone. Then he lay flat on the summit of the rock, wriggled forward to the edge, until his head projected, and peered downwards.

"What is it?" asked Bob from his position several yards in the rear.

Lawrence did not answer until he had crawled backward and once more stood erect.

"I've solved the puzzle," he said. "The fellows have got courage at any rate, and must be as agile as monkeys. There's a rope hanging down from the last beam,--down the cliff into the water."

"A rope!"

"Yes, one of our stoutest, cleverly stained so that it's hardly distinguishable from the rock itself. I caught sight of something swaying, and it took me a few seconds to be sure what it was. Whoever it was that knocked you on the head--Tchigin very likely--he must have climbed the rope, twisted himself up on to the planks, and so got to the mine. It's a trick I shouldn't care to attempt."

"But how on earth did he get to the rope from the other side? He couldn't have forded, and the strongest swimmer couldn't get across with the torrent rushing down at something like eight miles an hour."

"That wants thinking out. Meanwhile we'd better get back. If we were seen here we might put somebody on the alert."

"Yes. I tell you what: we'll cross the bridge and stroll up the other side; perhaps we may get a clue there."

They walked back without hurry along the planks, spent some little time in their respective sections of the mine, and then, taking their shot guns, crossed the bridge and walked up the narrow road as they had done many times before when shooting.

"I've been trying to work it out," said Bob as they went. "If I wanted to make for a particular spot on the other side, I should plunge in a good way higher up--you know, where the stream widens and isn't quite so swift. Then I should strike diagonally across and trust the current to carry me where I wanted to go."

"It would sweep you past. You couldn't be sure of hitting the rope."

"I don't know. We'll see when we get opposite it."

They sauntered on side by side, giving no signs of the carefulness with which they were examining the base of the cliff on the farther side. The bank beneath the road on which they were walking was not precipitous like the opposite cliff. Here and there the rocks shelved down to the water's edge, but there was no continuous perpendicular barrier.

Their course brought them presently opposite the buttress by which hung the rope. They did not pause, but as they strolled on Bob said--

"You see that in the angle formed by that buttress and the cliff there's a sort of backwater: not exactly a backwater, of course, but the force of the current is much diminished there. If a swimmer got to that point, he could make headway against the stream."

"That's just where the rope hangs. Did you see it?"