He took his revolver and rifle, and hastened back along the track, followed by Fazl with his kukuri. There was still no resumption of the firing. As he walked, he scanned the hill-side anxiously, but saw no sign of the Kalmucks. Slipping along close to the base of the rocky cliff he presently caught sight of the turbans of two or three of the Pathans, who were peering over the top of a rock two hundred yards away, evidently looking for the return of the aeroplane.

"Can you call to them without letting the Kalmucks hear?" he asked of Fazl.

"I can, sahib."

"Then ask one of them to slip down and meet me."

The Gurkha made a slight clucking in his throat, at which the Pathans lifted their heads and looked eagerly along the path. Then Fazl held up one finger, and beckoned. The heads disappeared, and in a moment two of the Pathans came round the corner of the rock.

"Only one," said Bob.

Fazl made them understand by gestures. One of the men returned, the other came on.

"Allah is great, sahib!" he said in his own tongue as he met Bob. "But why is the sahib on foot? A few more such thunderbolts would send the dogs to Jehannum: have you no more in the wonderful machine?"

Bob wished that he had Lawrence's facility in picking up strange languages. Fortunately Fazl could act as interpreter. He first asked the man if he could explain the sudden outbreak of the Kalmucks. The Pathan thought that no explanation was necessary: it was due to their own vile pa.s.sions and the presence of Nurla Bai.

"Nurla Bai!" exclaimed Bob. "Is he among them?"

"Of a truth he is, sahib, and his black monkey too."

To Bob this was incomprehensible. Nurla Bai and his man, when last he heard of them, were forty miles and more down-stream. But he had no leisure for guessing: the situation demanded all his thoughts.

"What are you going to do?" he asked.

"We are going to our homes, sahib," replied the man. "The dogs are too many for us. We did but stop to take a little rest, and kill a few. We cannot go back to the mine: the talk is that the huzur is gone; who will pay us now? We go to our own country, and some day will come back and deal with these children of Shaitan. Not a man of them shall be left alive. But now we can do nothing; it is vain to kick against the goad.

If the sahib had more little boxes we might kill them all; but he has none, or he would not be here."

Bob felt himself in a difficulty. He wanted to retain the Pathans; but in their present temper they would not be likely to remain with him if they knew that a huge army was advancing up-stream. On the other hand it would not be fair to withhold that information from them, and bring them back to the mine under false pretences. Reflecting rapidly for a few moments he determined to make a clean breast of it, but to lead up to the important point as diplomatically as he could.

"Have you any food?" he asked.

"Bismillah, sahib, we are empty as bladders. The dogs fell upon us even as we were filling our pots for the morning meal. We have eaten nothing."

"And what will you do for food on the way home? Is it a smiling country? Does millet grow on the rocks? Will you find grapes on thorn bushes?"

"True, sahib," said the man uneasily: "but there are ibex and other clean animals for our guns."

"You have plenty of ammunition then?"

"Enough to shoot beasts for our food."

"And to shoot the Kalmucks too? If I cannot stop them, and they pursue you, you will have no time to shoot ibex, and no bullets to waste. And you may meet enemies in the hills. You may be caught between two fires, and, outnumbered as you are already, you will be slaughtered like sheep."

The Pathan looked more and more troubled.

"I will go and talk to my brothers," he said. "With many counsellors there is wisdom."

"No, that won't do. You would waste a lot of time, and perhaps wrangle.

You must act as head man, and what you and I decide the others will do."

"What does the sahib order?"

"I order nothing. I want you to make up your own mind. Now listen. I see a way to bring you out of your present awkward position, and take you safely back to the mine. You do not know that Lawrence Sahib with Fyz Ali and the rest is in danger."

"Mashallah, sahib, what is this you tell?"

"We were attacked yesterday at the bridge down-stream, and beat off the enemy. Lawrence Sahib had to keep guard all night: he may have been attacked again, but he is now marching back."

"And who was the enemy, sahib? Only Nurla Bai and his monkey left the mine, and they are now among the dogs that have been barking at us beyond."

"The enemy are a large force of Kalmucks, a great army, who are coming up the valley, for what purpose I know not."

"Hai, sahib, but then there is the more need for us to go!"

"Yes, if you are willing to be cowards and faithless. Must I believe that you will sneak off and leave your comrades to face danger alone?"

The man was silent, plucking his beard. Bob offered him a cigarette, which the man accepted mechanically, lighting it at the match with which Bob lit his own.

"Is it a great army, sahib?" he said at length.

"A very great one. Very likely we shall find it impossible to save the mine. It is true that the huzur is gone: Nurla Bai shot him; he fell from the machine into the river, and I have no hope that he is yet alive. But his loss only leaves the more for us to do. We must first save Lawrence Sahib and your friends. When we are all met again, we can decide what is best. Perhaps we shall have to abandon the mine; but then, you see, we shall form one large party, with plenty of provisions and cartridges; and you will have a much better chance of reaching your homes than if you go as you are, hungry, with no food, and little hope of defending yourselves if attacked by enemies in the hills."

The Pathan puffed away gravely.

"There is truth in what the sahib says. He has a very big mind, and sees very far. We Pathans are not cowards, as the sahib knows; Fyz Ali is a good man, and the chota sahib will be a great man when his beard is grown. But how can we go back? As the sahib says, we are but a handful against the pack of dogs yonder, and the sahib has no more little boxes."

"I didn't say so. As a matter of fact, I have several."

"Inshallah!" cried the man joyfully. "Why did not the sahib say so before? If the sahib will go up in his machine, and drop the little boxes upon the heads of the Kalmucks, we will charge home upon them with great fury, and there shall not be left one man alive to tell the tale."

Bob knew that it would be useless to attempt to make the man understand why he could not consent to this wholesale butchery. He merely pointed out that, flying swiftly overhead, he could only drop one or perhaps two bombs that would certainly hit the enemy. The survivors would be goaded to desperation, and before the aeroplane could return and the manoeuvre be repeated, there would be a terrible fight, in which the Pathans, even if successful, would lose heavily.

"What I want to do is to gather all the loyal men safely at the mine,"

he said. "I do not want to lose one of you. I can do this, I believe, if you obey my orders: otherwise who knows how many of you will be left alive?"

"As the sahib commands," said the Pathan.

"This is what I command. You will remain here with your men while I drive the Kalmucks away. You will not fire upon them unless you are yourselves attacked. Impress that upon the men. When the Kalmucks are out of sight, you may march up towards the mine, but halt if you come in sight of them again."

"I will give the sahib's orders to the men," said the Pathan. "I hope the sahib will drive the dogs away quickly, for we are very hungry."

He salaamed and returned to his companions, who had been keeping one eye on the enemy, the other on the curious scene two hundred yards up-stream. It was indeed a strange position: the two men calmly smoking and discussing their plans, while at no great distance lurked a ferocious band ready to leap to the attack at any moment. They too had been consulting together, but their imagination was not active enough to lead them to any satisfactory conclusion. The dynamite bomb had been intended to check them: that was evident; and they decided that it would be wise to wait patiently for developments. Nurla Bai was very much annoyed. He had undergone great exertions and endured much fatigue to achieve his object--the slaughter or dispersal of the Pathans; and it was exasperating to find himself at a check just when he had them at his mercy, through the ingenuity of an Englishman and the astounding swiftness of his flying machine. He began to wish that, instead of picking up bits of rock in the gallery on that dark night, he had made his way to the platform and done some vital damage to the aeroplane.

Perhaps a lucky shot would bring it down when it again pa.s.sed over the position. But he hoped there would be no more dynamite bombs.

CHAPTER THE FIFTEENTH