Читать книгу The Air Patrol - George Herbert Ely - Страница 6

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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.

"Oh, there's a little excitement sometimes, but we are well placed, as you will see, and I fancy nothing short of a regular train of artillery could do us much damage."

What the boys heard from Mr. Appleton during that march whetted their curiosity to get their first view of his mine, but they were disappointed, for twilight fell while they were still some distance from it. In the gathering dusk they saw a number of distant lights, which their uncle explained were the camp fires of the miners. The red glow, growing larger as they proceeded, lent a romantic touch to the night. The fires were somewhat below them; and, viewed from the high ground from which they were approaching, the settlement appeared to be situated in a huge cleft between two steep mountain barriers. They could just see, swirling along the bottom, a torrential stream, which their uncle told them was unusually high just now, being swollen in summer by the melted snow from the mountains. It was, he said, a tributary to one of the headwaters of the Oxus.

They had just arrived at the outskirts of the settlement when the silence of the evening was suddenly broken by a great hubbub, and they saw a number of dark figures hurrying towards one of the camp fires. In a moment the open space was filled with a shouting swaying crowd; but before the boys had time to realise what was happening, or even to ask a question, their uncle urged his tired horse towards the scene, and dashing into the midst of the crowd, scattered the men to right and left. When the boys galloped up behind him, they found him sternly questioning one or two of the men in their own tongue. They returned sullen answers, whereupon he addressed them in tones of rebuke, concluding with a sharp word of command at which they turned away towards a number of huts ranged in rows beyond the camp fires.

"What is it all about, Uncle?" asked Lawrence.

"We'll see in the morning. It's too late now. Slip off your horses; I'll call a fellow to take charge of them."

A man came up in answer to his call, and led the horses towards the stables beyond the huts. Then Mr. Appleton gave a loud hail, and led his nephews to the left.

"Look after your feet," he said, taking a small electric lamp from his pocket.

They now saw that they were at the edge of the ravine. Below them they heard the gurgle and rush of the river. A few steps cut in the side of the chasm led down to a narrow platform, and upon this the three stood waiting. Mr. Appleton's call was answered from the opposite side, and immediately afterwards the boys heard a creaking sound, as though a machine of some sort were being wound up. Then a dark mass appeared to detach itself from the wall of rock across the gap, and descend towards them.

"My drawbridge," said their uncle.

It sank slowly and with much groaning and squeaking until the nearer end rested on the edge of the platform where they stood. They stepped upon it, followed by the Sikhs who had acted as their guides, and in a few strides came to the other side.

"Welcome to the Appleton mine," said Mr. Appleton. "And now for supper. Our menu isn't elaborate, but if you're as sharp set as I am you won't be dainty. Come along!"