Chapter THE NINTH: A Flight by Night

The afternoon wore away. For some time there was complete silence except for the gurgling hum of the river, and the low tones of the Pathans as they talked gloomily among themselves. It occurred to Bob that the enemy, finding themselves so completely at a check, might have retreated, to advance again when they should guess that want of food had driven the Englishmen's party back to the mine. But on putting it to the test he found that he was mistaken. He practised the old device of drawing the enemy's fire by means of dummy targets. Two of the Pathans hoisted their turbans on their rifles until they showed just above the rocks. The instant result was a volley from downstream, and one of the turbans 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 we must do. When it's dark we'll creep out, you and I, and start the engine. We'll toss who shall fly back to the mine----"

"No, that's your job," said Lawrence. "You can manage the machine better than I."

"Just as you please. Well, I'll go then, and have a talk with old Gur Buksh. You'll stay here and keep watch on the enemy. By their sticking on it looks as if they might try to rush the position in the night: but as they can't get across except as we did, by the rope, you ought to be able 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 fly back. I'll go on down-stream and take a good look at things. The enemy may have sheered off by the morning: in that case we can have another look for Uncle, and then return to the mine. If they've been reinforced from the camp, and look as if they are coming on, we can get back all the same. They'll have to repair the bridge before they can bring their horses over, and the Pathans will be miles towards home before that can be done."

"Don't you think it would be better to bring down some more men and prevent them from repairing the bridge? We could then stave off an attack on the mine--perhaps prevent it altogether."

"Too far from our base, my boy. There's that path over the hills the men know of. We mustn't run the risk of having our rear turned. But I'll send down some reinforcements. Of course without the bridge the enemy can't possibly cross until they reach the ford miles up-stream; but they may be good at mountain climbing, and judging by their pertinacity so far they won't shirk the journey. They've got time on their 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 our regular convoys of provisions to starve us out in a month or so. Things look pretty black, and our only chance is to strengthen our position and give 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 up a wireless installation, so that we could summon help in an emergency like this."

"My dear chap, what would be the good? We could only get help from India, and they wouldn't send an expedition out on behalf of an obstinate crack-brained adventurer, as they regard him, who's no business here at all. Poor old Uncle, when he settled here, knew very well that he'd taken his life in his hands, and had only himself to rely on. 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. By George! I thought I'd lost all chance of seeing some fighting; but it looks now as if I'm to get a good deal more than I should have got if I'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 all clear, isn't it?"

"So far as I'm concerned. But there's one thing you don't appear to have 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 than shine in the valley, unless the moon happens to be sailing directly above."

"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 from beyond the ledge. But it's got to be done somehow; I'm glad you mentioned it, because I don't think it would have occurred to me, and now 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 I shall come back and drop here. If there are only a few of them we'll wait 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 other hand, supposing a lot more have come up from the encampment--too many for us to tackle--I'll show a red flag, and that'll be the signal for making tracks at once. There's one thing I'd recommend. Get the Pathans to take their horses a little further up-stream out of range. We don't want them to be hit. It's a pity there's no herbage for the beasts 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 the mountain tops were still glistening in the glow of sunset, and the sky was bright. At last, when the keenest-sighted of the little party could see scarcely two hundred yards down the track on the opposite bank of the stream, Bob decided that it was time to move. He ordered three of the Pathans to creep cautiously out to the end of the bridge, and lie down behind some flat rocks there, keeping a sharp look-out for the appearance of the enemy. They gained their post without attracting attention.

"By the way," said Bob, as he prepared to walk with Lawrence into the open space on which the aeroplane lay, "you'll have to set a guard at the 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 with them yourself. If I'd thought of it before you might have got some sleep this afternoon. You mustn't let the enemy rush you."

"All right, I'll manage to keep awake. Hadn't we better try to clear some 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 minute increases the risk of not getting away safely."

With the remaining two Pathans the boys moved quickly into the open space, and carefully lifted the larger fragments of rock from a straight stretch of about fifty yards. They were still engaged in this when the Pathans at the bridge end opened fire. Their comrades instantly joined them, and for some minutes the five men fired briskly across the river. The sentries had discovered a number of the enemy creeping stealthily along the track. Their fire was immediately answered, and bullets began to whistle around, striking the rocks with a dull thud. In the gloom both sides were firing almost at random. The Pathans, crouching behind the rocks, escaped injury, and it was unlikely that they themselves had done much damage among the enemy; but their fire had checked the advance, and by the time that the Englishmen had sufficiently cleared the course for the aeroplane the firing ceased.

"I hope you won't be bothered with them any more," said Bob as he got into his seat.

He took his bearings. The aeroplane was facing down-stream. He would have 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," said Lawrence.

"I must take my chance. Of course they'll see me against the sky if they look up; but it will take them a few seconds at any rate to collect themselves, and I shall be going so fast that I fancy they won't hit me if they try. Here: take your rifle and cartridges. You'll keep strict watch? Look for me in the morning. So long!"

He started the engine: Lawrence stood clear, and the aeroplane darted forward obliquely towards the river. In a second or two it was completely lost to sight, so dense had the darkness become. But in a few seconds more it could be seen like a shadow against the sky, a quarter of a mile down the river and several hundred feet above. There were faint shouts in the distance. The enemy's attention must have been attracted, first by the hum, then by the sight of the strange machine as it soared higher and higher. But there was no sound of firing, and Lawrence breathed freely when he knew that his brother had escaped this first danger. A few minutes later he saw the aeroplane at a great height, sailing rapidly towards the mine.

On running off, Bob adjusted his elevator for the steepest possible ascent in a direct line; the gorge was too narrow to allow of a spiral ascent. He felt that he was starting on a race with the darkness. He had never attempted a flight by night in these regions, and he hoped by rising 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 a good deal more concerned than he had allowed Lawrence to see, at the problem which would face him at the end of his flight. The situation of the mine would be revealed by the camp fires of the labourers on the right bank, and the lights about the various outhouses on the left. But there were no lights on the landing platform beyond, and this, together with all the lower part of the gorge, was already blotted out by the darkness. It would be impossible, however gently he should glide down, to hit the exact position of the platform; and to attempt a landing at random would be madness.

Bob felt much worried as he flew on in the fading light, with an immense black abyss beneath him. The approach of the aeroplane would certainly be heard at the mine, but probably no one would be quick-witted enough to understand his difficulty. It might never occur to them that the darkness would render a landing impossible. Bob suspected that not even Ditta Lal, B.A. of Calcutta University though he was, would be alive to the position. Puzzle as he might, he could not hit upon any solution of the problem, and at length ceased to think about it, hoping that chance or some lucky inspiration, some circumstance that he had not taken into account, would point the way in due time.

The night was calm and windless, and the engine worked well, so that his mind was not harassed by any anxiety about the aeroplane. His body was less comfortable. The air was bitterly cold; he had put on his thick wadded coat and gloves, but his hands were numbed, and more than once he rubbed his nose to prevent it from freezing. He was glad to think that his journey was to be a short one. A little more than half an hour after he started, he discerned the lights of the settlement far away twinkling like glowworms at the bottom of a ditch. He waited a few minutes to make sure of his bearings, then began a gradual descent, looking about him warily as he sank lower in order to avoid grazing a jutting crag where the gorge narrowed. The lights became more distinct: he was able to separate those on his left, in the miners' quarters, from those on the right, in the dwelling houses and the quarters of the garrison. Presently he could just distinguish, in the diffused glow, the river flowing between, and he steered directly for this, so as to pass over the drawbridge. Having shut off the engine for the descent, his approach had probably escaped notice hitherto; but he started it again as soon as he came within thirty or forty feet of the bridge; the sound was immediately heard, and within a minute the whole settlement was aroused. The miners poured from their huts; all the Sikhs of the garrison 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 warm dressing-gown of European cut, and toddled out to welcome his master and tender any advice that the occasion seemed to call for.

Meanwhile Bob had flown past, utterly bewildered, and not a little alarmed. He knew the gorge well, but never having before made a trip through it by night, he was in a state of nervous terror lest he should lose his bearings and come to grief. The darkness was intense, redeemed from solid black only by a very faint reflection from the water. It was quite impossible to see the landing platform as he sped past, but when he arrived at the first spot at which turning was possible, he had a dim hope that, flying in the opposite direction, he might be able to see the platform in the diffused light of the camp-fires, in spite of the bend of the gorge. But in this he was disappointed. Not only were most of the lights intercepted by the bulging cliff, but all of them, being below its level, gave no illumination at all for the surface on which the 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, though they supposed that Nurla Bai had been caught, were moved to a certain admiration. Bob got no comfort from the cheers. His hands were so numb that he could scarcely control his levers, and he had the frightful feeling that he must continue to sail up and down indefinitely, like a swallow that has strayed into a church, and flies swiftly back and forth until it becomes dizzy and dashes itself against the wall. He had to go nearly 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 a light to the platform. But his words were unheard amid the din, and the crowd on the banks, taking his cry for a greeting, responded with even louder 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 the dark when, as the machine came round, he saw a sudden burst of flame in the distance at a spot where no light had been before. It brightened moment by moment, and he thrilled with relief as he discerned, to the left of the blaze, the dim outlines of the shed in which he was accustomed to keep his tools and other accessories. Some one, perhaps the Babu, he thought, had had the presence of mind to guess at his dilemma. He steered straight for the light, which he now distinguished as a large fire kindled on the rocky buttress projecting into the stream. It illuminated the whole of the landing place, and he knew that by 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 the desired spot. Twenty minutes later he tottered from his seat on to the platform, almost to fall into the arms of little Fazl, the Gurkha.

"Salaam, sahib," said the man. "I knew the trouble. The sahib is very tired."

"Dead beat, and half frozen," said Bob. "You must help me back to the compound; my legs are stiff."

Fazl assisted him along the cantilever pathway, midway in which they met several of the garrison who were coming, somewhat late, to assist in the landing. At the end of the pathway, in the compound, there was a group consisting of Ditta Lal, Chunda Beg, Gur Buksh and one or two more, who stepped forward to welcome Bob; but when they noticed his worn features and stiff movements, and the absence of Mr. Appleton and Lawrence, the words 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 quarter of an hour. I shall be all right then, and I've a great deal to say to you. You, Fazl, go back to the aeroplane, give it a thorough cleaning, and fill the tanks. Thanks for your thoughtfulness in lighting the fire."

"Ah, sir, he stole a march on me," said the Babu. "If I had not been lapped in slumber, inspiration would have made me busy. But Fazl did very well--very well, that is, for a man without a degree, hall-mark of acumen, sir."