CHAPTER THE NINTH
A FLIGHT BY NIGHT
The afternoon wore away. For some time there was complete silenceexcept for the gurgling hum of the river, and the low tones of thePathans as they talked gloomily among themselves. It occurred to Bobthat the enemy, finding themselves so completely at a check, might haveretreated, to advance again when they should guess that want of food haddriven the Englishmen's party back to the mine. But on putting it tothe test he found that he was mistaken. He practised the old device ofdrawing the enemy's fire by means of dummy targets. Two of the Pathanshoisted their turbans on their rifles until they showed just above therocks. The instant result was a volley from downstream, and one of theturbans on being lowered was found to have several holes drilled in it.
"They don't mean to let us off," said Bob. "I've made up my mind what wemust do. When it's dark we'll creep out, you and I, and start theengine. We'll toss who shall fly back to the mine----"
"No, that's your job," said Lawrence. "You can manage the machinebetter than I."
"Just as you please. Well, I'll go then, and have a talk with old GurBuksh. You'll stay here and keep watch on the enemy. By their stickingon it looks as if they might try to rush the position in the night: butas they can't get across except as we did, by the rope, you ought to beable to spoil that little game. I'll tell the havildar all about it,and get him to make quiet preparations for an attack. Then I'll flyback. I'll go on down-stream and take a good look at things. The enemymay have sheered off by the morning: in that case we can have anotherlook for Uncle, and then return to the mine. If they've been reinforcedfrom the camp, and look as if they are coming on, we can get back allthe same. They'll have to repair the bridge before they can bring theirhorses over, and the Pathans will be miles towards home before that canbe done."
"Don't you think it would be better to bring down some more men andprevent them from repairing the bridge? We could then stave off anattack on the mine--perhaps prevent it altogether."
"Too far from our base, my boy. There's that path over the hills themen know of. We mustn't run the risk of having our rear turned. ButI'll send down some reinforcements. Of course without the bridge theenemy can't possibly cross until they reach the ford miles up-stream;but they may be good at mountain climbing, and judging by theirpertinacity so far they won't shirk the journey. They've got time ontheir side: there's no hurry: they know that we're boxed at the mine,and when they get there they've only got to sit tight and intercept ourregular convoys of provisions to starve us out in a month or so. Thingslook pretty black, and our only chance is to strengthen our position andgive them so hot a reception that they'll get tired of it."
"There's one thing Uncle ought to have done. He ought to have rigged upa wireless installation, so that we could summon help in an emergencylike this."
"My dear chap, what would be the good? We could only get help fromIndia, and they wouldn't send an expedition out on behalf of anobstinate crack-brained adventurer, as they regard him, who's nobusiness here at all. Poor old Uncle, when he settled here, knew verywell that he'd taken his life in his hands, and had only himself to relyon. We've got to do everything ourselves."
"Couldn't you fly southward, and see if Major Endicott is within reach?"
"He's back in Rawal Pindi long ago. No, we can't expect any help. ByGeorge! I thought I'd lost all chance of seeing some fighting; but itlooks now as if I'm to get a good deal more than I should have got ifI'd come out with a commission."
"You seem quite cheerful at the prospect. You're a born soldier, Bob."
"And we'll make you one before we've done with you, old man. It's allclear, isn't it?"
"So far as I'm concerned. But there's one thing you don't appear tohave thought of: how are you going to alight on our ledge in the dark?"
"Is there no moon to-night?"
"Not till very late, I think; and in any case we get more shadow thanshine in the valley, unless the moon happens to be sailing directlyabove."
"You're right. I hadn't given it a thought. It will be a ticklish job.Owing to that bend the lights in the compound will be invisible frombeyond the ledge. But it's got to be done somehow; I'm glad youmentioned it, because I don't think it would have occurred to me, andnow I can try to meet the difficulty."
"You won't start back till daylight, I suppose."
"No. If I find the coast clear when I've had a look down the river Ishall come back and drop here. If there are only a few of them we'llwait for our reinforcements and then see if we can't drive them off:that will give us another chance of searching for Uncle. On the otherhand, supposing a lot more have come up from the encampment--too manyfor us to tackle--I'll show a red flag, and that'll be the signal formaking tracks at once. There's one thing I'd recommend. Get thePathans to take their horses a little further up-stream out of range. Wedon't want them to be hit. It's a pity there's no herbage for thebeasts to feed on, their bags will be empty by the morning. Still,they'll be back at the mine by midday to-morrow, all being well."
Dusk fell early upon the river. It was gloomy below even while themountain tops were still glistening in the glow of sunset, and the skywas bright. At last, when the keenest-sighted of the little party couldsee scarcely two hundred yards down the track on the opposite bank ofthe stream, Bob decided that it was time to move. He ordered three ofthe Pathans to creep cautiously out to the end of the bridge, and liedown behind some flat rocks there, keeping a sharp look-out for theappearance of the enemy. They gained their post without attractingattention.
"By the way," said Bob, as he prepared to walk with Lawrence into theopen space on which the aeroplane lay, "you'll have to set a guard atthe bridge end all night. Let the men take it in turns, two at a time.They're not used to doing sentry-go: I'm afraid you'll have to be withthem yourself. If I'd thought of it before you might have got somesleep this afternoon. You mustn't let the enemy rush you."
"All right, I'll manage to keep awake. Hadn't we better try to clearsome of these stones away? Otherwise you won't get a very good run off."
"Yes, but we can't wait to clear the ground properly. Every minuteincreases the risk of not getting away safely."
With the remaining two Pathans the boys moved quickly into the openspace, and carefully lifted the larger fragments of rock from a straightstretch of about fifty yards. They were still engaged in this when thePathans at the bridge end opened fire. Their comrades instantly joinedthem, and for some minutes the five men fired briskly across the river.The sentries had discovered a number of the enemy creeping stealthilyalong the track. Their fire was immediately answered, and bullets beganto whistle around, striking the rocks with a dull thud. In the gloomboth sides were firing almost at random. The Pathans, crouching behindthe rocks, escaped injury, and it was unlikely that they themselves haddone much damage among the enemy; but their fire had checked theadvance, and by the time that the Englishmen had sufficiently clearedthe course for the aeroplane the firing ceased.
"I hope you won't be bothered with them any more," said Bob as he gotinto his seat.
He took his bearings. The aeroplane was facing down-stream. He wouldhave to rise many hundreds of feet before it would be safe to turn.
"They may fire at you and hit you before you're out of range," saidLawrence.
"I must take my chance. Of course they'll see me against the sky ifthey look up; but it will take them a few seconds at any rate to collectthemselves, and I shall be going so fast that I fancy they won't hit meif they try. Here: take your rifle and cartridges. You'll keep strictwatch? Look for me in the morning. So long!"
He started the engine: Lawrence stood clear, and the aeroplane dartedforward obliquely towards the river. In a second or two it wascompletely lost to sight, so dense had the darkness become. But in afew seconds more it could be seen like a shadow against the sky, aquarter of a mile down the river and several hundred feet above. Therewer
e faint shouts in the distance. The enemy's attention must have beenattracted, first by the hum, then by the sight of the strange machine asit soared higher and higher. But there was no sound of firing, andLawrence breathed freely when he knew that his brother had escaped thisfirst danger. A few minutes later he saw the aeroplane at a greatheight, sailing rapidly towards the mine.
On running off, Bob adjusted his elevator for the steepest possibleascent in a direct line; the gorge was too narrow to allow of a spiralascent. He felt that he was starting on a race with the darkness. Hehad never attempted a flight by night in these regions, and he hoped byrising high to use the last radiance of sunset in shaping his course.Within about half an hour he should arrive at the mine. But he was agood deal more concerned than he had allowed Lawrence to see, at theproblem which would face him at the end of his flight. The situation ofthe mine would be revealed by the camp fires of the labourers on theright bank, and the lights about the various outhouses on the left. Butthere were no lights on the landing platform beyond, and this, togetherwith all the lower part of the gorge, was already blotted out by thedarkness. It would be impossible, however gently he should glide down,to hit the exact position of the platform; and to attempt a landing atrandom would be madness.
Bob felt much worried as he flew on in the fading light, with an immenseblack abyss beneath him. The approach of the aeroplane would certainlybe heard at the mine, but probably no one would be quick-witted enoughto understand his difficulty. It might never occur to them that thedarkness would render a landing impossible. Bob suspected that not evenDitta Lal, B.A. of Calcutta University though he was, would be alive tothe position. Puzzle as he might, he could not hit upon any solution ofthe problem, and at length ceased to think about it, hoping that chanceor some lucky inspiration, some circumstance that he had not taken intoaccount, would point the way in due time.
The night was calm and windless, and the engine worked well, so that hismind was not harassed by any anxiety about the aeroplane. His body wasless comfortable. The air was bitterly cold; he had put on his thickwadded coat and gloves, but his hands were numbed, and more than once herubbed his nose to prevent it from freezing. He was glad to think thathis journey was to be a short one. A little more than half an hourafter he started, he discerned the lights of the settlement far awaytwinkling like glowworms at the bottom of a ditch. He waited a fewminutes to make sure of his bearings, then began a gradual descent,looking about him warily as he sank lower in order to avoid grazing ajutting crag where the gorge narrowed. The lights became more distinct:he was able to separate those on his left, in the miners' quarters, fromthose on the right, in the dwelling houses and the quarters of thegarrison. Presently he could just distinguish, in the diffused glow,the river flowing between, and he steered directly for this, so as topass over the drawbridge. Having shut off the engine for the descent,his approach had probably escaped notice hitherto; but he started itagain as soon as he came within thirty or forty feet of the bridge; thesound was immediately heard, and within a minute the whole settlementwas aroused. The miners poured from their huts; all the Sikhs of thegarrison turned out; the servants left their outhouses, talking shrilly;and even the Babu, who, as he often did, had retired to rest at sundown,was wakened by the noise, and rolling out of bed, threw on a warmdressing-gown of European cut, and toddled out to welcome his master andtender any advice that the occasion seemed to call for.
Meanwhile Bob had flown past, utterly bewildered, and not a littlealarmed. He knew the gorge well, but never having before made a tripthrough it by night, he was in a state of nervous terror lest he shouldlose his bearings and come to grief. The darkness was intense, redeemedfrom solid black only by a very faint reflection from the water. It wasquite impossible to see the landing platform as he sped past, but whenhe arrived at the first spot at which turning was possible, he had a dimhope that, flying in the opposite direction, he might be able to see theplatform in the diffused light of the camp-fires, in spite of the bendof the gorge. But in this he was disappointed. Not only were most ofthe lights intercepted by the bulging cliff, but all of them, beingbelow its level, gave no illumination at all for the surface on whichthe descent must be made.
Bob flew back again, over the bridge, and into the blackness beyond.The men cheered enthusiastically as he passed; even the Kalmucks, thoughthey supposed that Nurla Bai had been caught, were moved to a certainadmiration. Bob got no comfort from the cheers. His hands were so numbthat he could scarcely control his levers, and he had the frightfulfeeling that he must continue to sail up and down indefinitely, like aswallow that has strayed into a church, and flies swiftly back and forthuntil it becomes dizzy and dashes itself against the wall. He had to gonearly seven miles before he durst turn again. On coming to the bridge,he shouted at the top of his voice, asking that some one would take alight to the platform. But his words were unheard amid the din, and thecrowd on the banks, taking his cry for a greeting, responded with evenlouder cheers.
Again he flew on up-stream, a second time he came to the wheeling place,and was nerving himself to attempt a landing without guidance in thedark when, as the machine came round, he saw a sudden burst of flame inthe distance at a spot where no light had been before. It brightenedmoment by moment, and he thrilled with relief as he discerned, to theleft of the blaze, the dim outlines of the shed in which he wasaccustomed to keep his tools and other accessories. Some one, perhapsthe Babu, he thought, had had the presence of mind to guess at hisdilemma. He steered straight for the light, which he now distinguishedas a large fire kindled on the rocky buttress projecting into thestream. It illuminated the whole of the landing place, and he knew thatby once more passing down and up, and ascending to a sufficient height,he could time his downward glide so as to come gently to rest at thedesired spot. Twenty minutes later he tottered from his seat on to theplatform, almost to fall into the arms of little Fazl, the Gurkha.
"Salaam, sahib," said the man. "I knew the trouble. The sahib is verytired."
"Dead beat, and half frozen," said Bob. "You must help me back to thecompound; my legs are stiff."
Fazl assisted him along the cantilever pathway, midway in which they metseveral of the garrison who were coming, somewhat late, to assist in thelanding. At the end of the pathway, in the compound, there was a groupconsisting of Ditta Lal, Chunda Beg, Gur Buksh and one or two more, whostepped forward to welcome Bob; but when they noticed his worn featuresand stiff movements, and the absence of Mr. Appleton and Lawrence, thewords of congratulation died on their lips.
"Where is the huzur?" asked one.
"Is all well, sahib?" said Chunda Beg.
"Sir, has fortune proved unkind?" murmured the Babu.
"Go to the house; I will tell you all there," said Bob. "Havildar,silence those noisy ruffians on the other side. Tell them nothing.Chunda Beg, get me some brandy: I am half dead. All of you, don't talk.I want Gur Buksh, and you, Ditta Lal, to come to the house in a quarterof an hour. I shall be all right then, and I've a great deal to say toyou. You, Fazl, go back to the aeroplane, give it a thorough cleaning,and fill the tanks. Thanks for your thoughtfulness in lighting thefire."
"Ah, sir, he stole a march on me," said the Babu. "If I had not beenlapped in slumber, inspiration would have made me busy. But Fazl didvery well--very well, that is, for a man without a degree, hall-mark ofacumen, sir."