Читать книгу The Air Patrol - George Herbert Ely - Страница 9

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The cliff pathway being at last completed, the boys cleared the farther ledge of accidental obstructions, and so formed a fairly smooth surface about sixty yards in length by half as many in breadth. While the workmen were erecting a shed at one end of the space, the boys themselves carried over the parts of the aeroplane, and set about putting them together, with the assistance of Fazl the Gurkha. It was a monoplane of a recent type, with a length of thirty feet and a span of forty-three, the area of the main planes being about three hundred and fifty feet. The fabric-covered fuselage was of approximately stream-line form, deep enough forward to accommodate the pilot so that only his head protruded above the cockpit. This was arranged to seat two, the pilot in front, the passenger in his rear. The elevator was of fixed monoplane design, with rotating ailerons. The engine, a four-cylinder machine of 100 h.p., being of the water-cooled variety, a radiator was necessary: this was incorporated with the lower sloping front of the body. Bob had provided himself with a second carburetter, so that paraffin could be used if petrol ran short. The landing chassis was composed of oval section steel tubes, which ran together at two apexes. At each of these, on a universal bearing, was a laminated spring split into two arms at the rear, with a rubber-tyred wheel between them. The forepart of the spring was attached by an elastic rubber shackle to the top of the chassis, and a similar attachment connected the single wheel with the rear-part of the machine. The material employed in the construction of the machine was mainly wood, which was more easily repairable than steel. Its total weight was about 1000 lbs. and its maximum speed seventy miles an hour in still air.

It was a great day at the mine when the young airmen essayed their first flight. Mr. Appleton had looked forward to it with a nervousness he did his best to conceal. He had ceased to joke about the matter, and wore a grave and thoughtful look during the week in which the boys made their final preparations. Their enthusiastic discussion of details at meal-times and in the evening set his nerves on edge; but he was too wise to let his nephews see how they were distressing him, and they did not know until long afterwards how nearly he had come to an absolute prohibition from using their machine. Only as they left him, to try their wings, did he venture on a word of caution.

"I say, you fellows, you'll be careful, you know," he said.

"Of course, Uncle," said Bob. "I've got my certificate, remember."

"And Ditta Lal had his calculations!" he muttered.

"Well, they gave him a night out," said Lawrence, quite unconscious how his light answer jarred upon his uncle.

They walked along the path and disappeared from sight. It was an hour before they were seen again. Then from round the shoulder of the cliff there suddenly came into view a thing resembling a monstrous grasshopper in flight, and through the air sounded a low grinding hum. The servants rushed into the compound; the miners at work in the open uttered a shrill cry, which brought their comrades in a flock from the galleries; and they stood at gaze as the strange machine wheeled into the gorge, and flew, skimming the river, until it was lost to sight.

"Marvellous achievement, sir," said Ditta Lal at Mr. Appleton's elbow.

Mr. Appleton did not answer: there was a look of anxiety upon his face.

"I perceive, sir," said the Babu, "that your countenance is sicklied o'er with pale cast of apprehension. Nothing is here for tears; in short, there is nothing to be afraid of; I have worked it out. Engine makes 1500 revolutions per minute: propeller geared down to 750: ascensional velocity, by my calculations----"

"Your calculations be hanged!" cried Mr. Appleton, whose wonted urbanity gave way under the strain of Ditta Lal's loquacity. "Get out!"

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.

THE ATTACK IN THE GALLERY