The Air Patrol Part 37

"See, sahib!" cried Fazl, lifting his hand and pointing in still more excitement.

And then Lawrence saw that the bridge was no longer a bridge. The end which had rested on the rock in mid stream had been shattered by a sh.e.l.l, and Gur Buksh and his companions were working with might and main to replace the broken portion with rope. Fortunately, p.r.o.ne as they lay, they were for the present concealed from the enemy by the breastwork manned by the diminished garrison; but they would be in full view when they rose to return to the compound. When the time should come for the whole party to beat a final retreat, it would be almost impossible for a single man to escape being shot down.

Lawrence looked down the track. Fighting had ceased. The Kalmucks who had sprung over the breastwork had been recalled. A great number were engaged in repairing and strengthening the rampart, so as to render their gunners secure from enfilading fire. Behind, another crowd was dragging more guns into position, and Lawrence noticed that there were now machine guns as well as field pieces. The fact that Bob's men were not firing seemed to indicate that their ammunition was failing. The captured field gun was now useless for lack of sh.e.l.ls; Gur Buksh had very little ammunition for his gun, and in any case he could not return to it until his work on the bridge was finished. It was of vital importance that the retreat to the mine should be kept open. What alarmed Lawrence most of all was his certainty that, even with the bridge repaired, the little band of thirty fighters were practically cut off because they could only cross under the enemy's fire. As soon as the enemy's guns were placed, the second rampart would be knocked to pieces in a few minutes at so short a range. The garrison would be swept up the track, or shot in attempting to regain the mine. The siege would be at an end, for so determined an enemy would doubtless find some means of crossing the river, even if the defenders escaped destruction and cut down the bridge behind them. They might hold out for a little, perhaps, in the dark and narrow galleries; but as soon as the enemy played on these with their artillery, they would be rendered untenable by the deadly fumes. It seemed that before the sun went down the whole place would be in the hands of the Kalmucks, and there would no longer be any impediment to their march.

The one thing needful, to prolong the struggle even for a few hours, was to bring the garrison back into the compound. There were still a few bombs left; by attacking the enemy with these Lawrence thought he might gain just enough time for the retreat. When he had done that he would fly southward to look for the relief force, and if it were in sight, urge it to haste. The mere knowledge that it was approaching would put heart into the weary garrison, and nerve them for prolonged resistance.

"How much petrol is left?" he asked Fazl.

"Eight or nine gallons, sahib--and a little paraffin also."

This might suffice for a couple of hours' flight; then the aeroplane would be out of action. Anything further that Lawrence could do must then be done at his brother's side.

He told Fazl what he proposed to do.

"I will run across the bridge and let Bob Sahib know," said the Gurkha.

"No; it's too dangerous. Just give a shout to attract his attention, and I will semaph.o.r.e to him."

A piercing cry rolled across the river. Behind his rampart Bob turned and waved his hand. Lawrence instantly signalled that he had a message to give. At the spot where he stood, while in full view of Bob, he was invisible to the enemy a hundred yards farther north. He began to work his arms in the movements of the flag-signal code. Fazl meanwhile returned to the aeroplane, tested the engine, put on board the whole remaining stock of petrol, together with lubricant and a couple of gallons of paraffin left from the quant.i.ty brought from the frontier house, and all the bombs.

The conversation by semaph.o.r.e took some little time. Bob wanted to know what had become of the enemy's aeroplane. Lawrence replied merely that it was out of action, without giving particulars. Having explained what he proposed to do, and obtained Bob's a.s.sent, he returned to the platform, and was soon flying up the river. At the turning-place he saw on the bank below the blackened ruins of the enemy's machine. When he wheeled round and approached the bend, he became the target for the Kalmucks' rifles, and as he had not risen very high the bullets whistled around unpleasantly near. Just before he reached the enemy's breastwork Fazl dropped two bombs; there was a double explosion, and the man reported that they had fallen apparently at the right spot, though the dust and smoke prevented him from seeing the effect.

Lawrence flew on. In spite of the necessity of economizing fuel, he did not again attempt his previous risky turn, but went on until he reached the place where wheeling could be performed without danger. The track was swarming with the enemy. They did not now fire at him; he guessed that these men could hardly distinguish his machine from their own.

On returning towards the bend he saw that the bombs had wrought great havoc there. One at least of the guns was dismounted: the track was strewn with prostrate forms; and near the rampart only a few men could be seen scurrying up the hillside to find shelter among the rocks. Fazl dropped another bomb, aiming as nearly as possible at the guns that were still in position. The further breastwork was deserted: as Lawrence crossed it the drawbridge was blown up, and a cheer rose from the little garrison now lining the walls of the compound.

Lawrence pa.s.sed up the valley. It was twenty minutes since he started from the platform. His fuel would last little more than an hour and a half. Going and returning his flight could continue for a bare hundred miles. It was now about four o'clock; in two hours the valley would be dark. If he did not sight the relieving force within less than an hour--that is, within fifty miles--he must return to the mine without the message of hope. Even if he should see it, he reflected that many hours must elapse before it could reach the mine, however much the march was forced. This consideration made him decide to shorten his flight; he must reserve enough petrol to carry the aeroplane once more over the enemy, so that he could use against them the four bombs he had left.

Flying low upon the river, he recognized at every few miles the scenes of the various episodes of this prolonged contest. Here was the wide extension of the gorge where the hapless aeroplane had no doubt made its turns: just beyond was the open country where the Pathans had stood at bay against the Kalmucks; farther south, the scene of his capture by Nurla Bai. With anxious concentration he scanned the track; not a man was in sight. To obtain a wider view he swept up in a long plane, and presently caught sight in the far distance of the hill tower in which Major Endicott had been besieged. This was a clear signal that he must turn in a few minutes.

Just as he was on the point of wheeling round, both he and Fazl simultaneously gave a shout. Rounding a bend of the track, about five miles away, was a column of marching hors.e.m.e.n. The sun flashed upon polished metal. Lawrence lifted his field gla.s.s, and after a brief glance through it uttered a second cry: he had recognized the British khaki. In the joy of this discovery he ventured to fly on for another two miles under engine power, then shut off the engine and made a gradual vol plane down to the track, alighting at an open spot about a mile from the head of the advancing force. By this time the whole of the column was in sight. It was very small in comparison with the vast horde against which it was to be pitted; there were not half as many men as he had seen within five miles of the mine, to say nothing of the thousands marching up from the north. But he noticed that it had two field guns, and a mountain battery carried on mules; and if only it could arrive in time, he had little doubt that British arms and pluck and discipline would triumph even over the great host of the enemy.

Leaving the aeroplane under Fazl's care, Lawrence hastened forward towards the column. To his still greater joy he recognised in the officers marching at the head, Major Endicott himself and Captain Fenton. They were trotting forward to meet him. The Major had one arm in a sling.

"All well?" shouted the Major from a distance.

"Hard pressed, but still holding out," replied Lawrence.

There were hearty hand-clasps when they met.

"I was afraid we should be too late--had no end of a job to get this scratch column together," said the Major. "How far are we from the mine?"

"About thirty miles, I think."

"I hoped it was less. We've been marching all day, and the horses can't possibly do thirty miles without a rest. Just tell me how matters stand, will you?"

"When I left, about three-quarters of an hour ago, my brother had just been forced back into the mine."

"Did he leave it, then?" interrupted the Major.

"Oh yes! He has till now held the enemy off some distance down the track. But their artillery was too much for us, and we're now in the last ditch, so to speak. Bob has blown up the bridge, so the enemy can't get across immediately; and my little Gurkha has done a good deal of damage among their guns with bombs; but the track is now open to them; they'll bring more guns up, and be able to pound us at point-blank range. We've lost a good many men; we've only a few rounds of ammunition left for the machine gun, and precious little for the rifles."

"Dynamite?"

"I've got the last of it in four bombs in the aeroplane."

"Can't your men shelter in the galleries from the enemy's bombardment?"

"For a little while, no doubt. But what I'm afraid of is that the enemy will find some means of crossing the river during the night: if they do it's all up. There appears to be a general directing operations, and after being baulked for a week he won't be satisfied until he's made a clean sweep of us."

"It's touch and go, evidently. What do you say, Fenton?"

"We couldn't do thirty miles on this ground in less than six hours if the horses were fresh: and if we push on at once they'll collapse before we're half way there. We must have at least a three hours' rest."

The Major pulled at his moustache meditatively.

"Aren't we near that place where you had your smash, Appleton?" he said suddenly.

"Yes; it's a few miles down."

"Then I'll tell you what I'll do. A lot of these fellows with me are used to work on the Indus. I'll get them to make a big raft like the one your Kalmucks floated the aeroplane on, and send on a dozen in advance.

The current will gain us three miles an hour; the men should get to the neighbourhood of the mine about three. If you could manage to meet them and carry them in relays into the mine they'd be of great use. I'll give you some ammunition, too. Fly back at once: the knowledge that we're coming will buck your men up; and the rest of us will hurry on as soon as possible."

On reaching the aeroplane, the whole force dismounted. Lawrence was introduced to Captain Coats, the army surgeon whom he had heard mentioned in the frontier house. While some of the men placed in the c.o.c.kpit as many cartridges as it could carry, others went into the wood to cut timber for the raft. Lawrence had some difficulty in starting the engine; but it ran smoothly after a little while, and taking a cheery leave of the officers he started for the north.

He had come within about five miles of the mine when a prolonged miss-fire made it imperative to descend at once. Luckily there was just room for him to alight at the edge of a small wooded tract. He was the more perturbed at the delay because he heard distinctly the dull rumble of artillery fire in the north. Stripping off his coat, he began with Fazl's help to overhaul the engines. Apparently the defect was in the carburetter, but for some little time the precise origin of the mis-fire was undiscoverable. Meanwhile the depths of the valley were already shrouded in dusk, and Lawrence, never having attempted a flight by night, became more and more anxious as time went on, lest he should be overtaken by complete darkness before he regained the platform.

At last the defect was ascertained and remedied. Lawrence had just put on his coat, and Fazl was in the act of replacing the plugs, when there was a sudden volley from the wood near by, and six wild and haggard Kalmucks came towards the aeroplane with a rush. The Gurkha went on calmly with his work: Lawrence s.n.a.t.c.hed up his rifle and fired. One of the attackers fell; the rest dashed on only the more furiously, howling like famished animals. Lawrence fired again; Fazl started the engine; both then sprang to their places, and pressing the throttle Lawrence set the machine gliding forward.

By this time the Kalmucks were within a few yards. Fazl stooped for his rifle, to take a parting shot at them. As he rose he noticed that an extraordinary thing had happened. Just as the aeroplane was lifting, one of the Kalmucks, outstripping the rest, had taken a grip of the cha.s.sis, as if attempting to drag it down. He retained his grasp a little too long, and was carried up into the air. Fazl now saw him convulsively drawing himself up to clutch one of the stays of the main plane.

What had happened was hidden from Lawrence by the projecting planes.

Fazl made no sound; but there was an odd look upon his face as he quietly slipped a cartridge into the breech of his rifle, took careful aim at one of the four men on the track below, and brought him to the ground.

"Tchigin, sahib," he said.

"Never mind about the Kalmucks," said Lawrence. "Just fill up the tank, will you?"

Fazl laid down his rifle, took a petrol can, and poured its contents into the tank below the pilot's seat. There was nothing of haste or excitement in his manner. He tipped the can until the last drop was drained, and having set it down, rubbed his hands on his coat. Then he drew his kukuri, and bent over slowly towards the Kalmuck, who was clinging to the stay in grim and speechless terror. Fazl gazed steadily into the man's eyes. He lifted his terrible weapon; there was one swift whizzing stroke through the air; and the lost man fell headlong into the river, three hundred feet below. Fazl wiped his blade.

"What's that?" asked Lawrence, as the aeroplane gave a sudden upward jerk.

"Nurla Bai, sahib."