The Air Patrol: A Story of the North-west Frontier

  CHAPTER THE FIRST

  THE RUINED REST-HOUSE

  The travellers proceeded with their meal almost in silence.

  The two younger men had felt subdued and chastened ever since they hadleft Rawal Pindi, some days before. Major Endicott was too good afellow to insist on the disapproval with which he regarded theircompany, but they were conscious of being on sufferance, which was themore irksome because of the whole-hearted admiration they were ready tolavish upon him. His mission was a delicate one,--one which, to any buta political officer of the frontier, would have appeared not a littlehazardous; and he felt that it was gratuitously complicated by thejourney of two young civilians through so wild a region at thisparticular time. A tribe in one of the valleys west of the mountainroad, some three days' march from the spot on which the travellers werenow encamped, had been giving trouble of late. It had always beentroublesome. Only once had it been visited by a white man, MajorEndicott himself; yet, accompanied by no more than a dozen troopers, hewas venturing alone among these wild hill-men, to demand the payment ofa fine in expiation of a recent raid upon their neighbours, and securityfor their future good behaviour. The alternative was an expedition inforce, and Major Endicott had preferred to take whatever personal risksa visit might involve, rather than recommend a hill campaign, with allits difficulties and its heavy cost in money and men.

  But he did not relish the accidental responsibility cast upon him by thepresence of these two young Englishmen, little more than lads, who hadno concern in his business, and were indeed strangers to the country.He regarded it as a very unfortunate coincidence that they arrived inRawal Pindi at the moment of his setting out, and that the road theyproposed to follow in their further journey northward would be forseveral days the same as his own. They were travelling at their ownrisk; it was no part of his duty to safeguard them; but he could do noless than suggest that they should accompany him over so much of theroad as was common to their party and his. Privately he wished them atHalifax.

  His attitude was after all more political than personal. Great changeshad recently occurred in the politics of Central Asia. The fall of theManchu dynasty and the establishment of a Republic in China had resultedin the secession of the princes of Mongolia. They had first placedthemselves under the protection of Russia, only to find that they hadexchanged King Log for King Stork. Russia had sufficiently recoveredfrom the staggering effects of the Japanese war to recommence herforward movement in Asia, which for long had seemed as gradual and asirresistible as the encroachment of the tide upon a sandy beach. TheMongols soon came to loggerheads with their adopted protector, and werebeginning to experience the same process of assimilation that had inprevious generations been the fate of Bokhara and Western Turkestan. Asudden conflagration in which Russia became involved in Europe, togetherwith the rise to power of a prince of exceptional ambition and capacity,gave the Mongols an opportunity of striking for complete independence,of which they were not slow to take advantage. The advance of a Russianarmy of 20,000 men was checked near Urga for want of supplies from thenorth. With an Austro-German army threatening Moscow and St. Petersburg,the Russian government recalled the greater part of their Easternforces, leaving the Mongolian expedition to extricate itself as best itcould. It might still have proved equal to the strain but for aMussulman rising, which, after long smouldering, now broke into flame inthe conquered Khanates eastward of the Caspian. The revolt spread withthe rapidity of a prairie fire from Khiva to Tashkend, paralysing anyefforts that might have been made to relieve the army destined forMongolia. A raid of many thousands of Tartars who cut the railway atIrkutsk turned the check into a retreat. The first sign of waveringbrought against the Russians every man who possessed a pony and a riflefrom the Great Wall of China to the Altai mountains. Under thispressure the retreat became a rout, and the rout a slaughter. Within ayear Mongolia became the most powerful of the Central Asian States, andwith the guns and equipment of the annihilated Russian army as anucleus, the Mongol Napoleon set about building up a new empireextending from the shrunken frontiers of the Chinese Republic to theshores of the Caspian. Five years had sufficed to transform thepolitical aspect of Central Asia. Russia, exhausted by a three years'struggle with her western neighbours, was powerless to stem the flood ofMongol conquest. For the moment the tide had apparently spent itself onthe eastern border of Asiatic Turkey, and the mountain chain dividingPersia. There had been a lull for more than a year, during which theworld wondered with no little apprehension what would happen next. Somethought that the Mongol prince who had inspired this recrudescence ofthe Tartar spirit might now be content to consolidate his empire.Others looked for a new movement still more stupendous, for there werenot wanting many in Europe who trembled at the name of Ubacha Khan astheir forefathers in bygone centuries had trembled at the names ofGenghis Khan and Timur.

  Little wonder, then, that Major Endicott was perturbed at the thought oftwo young Englishmen journeying to the fringe of the vast territory inthe breasts of whose peoples were stirring aspirations after a greatnesswhich their forefathers had enjoyed, and which was celebrated in storieshanded down by long tradition, and in songs that were still sung atvillage festivals and country fairs.

  Robert and Lawrence Appleton, aged nineteen and eighteen respectively,were the sons of the retired lieutenant-governor of an Indianpresidency. The elder had just entered Sandhurst, the younger was onthe point of competing for a scholarship at Oxford, when the suddendeath of their father put a summary check upon their careers. He hadenjoyed a good pension, but his investments having proved unfortunate,when his pension died with him they found themselves almost withoutmeans. The army for Robert, the Indian Civil Service for Lawrence, werenow equally out of the question, and they saw themselves faced with nobrighter prospects than clerkships or junior masterships presented, whena letter from their uncle Harry in Asia came like a ray of sunlight inthe gloom.

  Their uncle had been something of a rolling stone. He had left homewhen a mere youth, and for many years his family had wholly lost sightof him. Gossip said that he had made and lost several fortunes inremote parts of the globe before he finally "struck oil," literally aswell as figuratively, in Mexico. One day he turned up unexpectedly atthe headquarters of his brother, the lieutenant-governor, told him thathe had "made his pile" and retired from business, and now wanted toamuse himself. Sir George did what he could for him, but Harry soonwearied of the mild excitements of Indian social life, had his fill oftiger shooting and pig-sticking, and looked about for some other meansof employing his time.

  Happening to learn that it was a difficult matter to get permission tocross the north-west frontier, with characteristic obstinacy he set hismind on overcoming official reluctance. It was a period of somerestlessness among the frontier tribes; and the government of India,never very willing to grant permits to non-official travellers, howevergood their credentials, refused his application, although his brother'sinfluence was employed in his behalf. This was enough for a man ofHarry Appleton's adventurous temperament and independent spirit.Resolving to crack the nut himself, he suddenly left India, disappearedfor many months, and then emerged, to the no small embarrassment of theRussians, on the border at Wakhan. He had slipped across the Persianfrontier, and before the Russians were aware of his presence, washalf-way to the Pamirs. Then he had disappeared for a time into Afghanterritory, exploring districts in which it was believed that no otherwhite man had ever set foot, and, much to the wonderment of his friends,coming out alive. When he was again heard of, he had entered Britishterritory far up in the Chitral country, laden with shooting trophies inthe shape of many heads of ibex and _Ovis poli_, the large long-hornedsheep characteristic of the hill country. His intention was to returnto civilisation by way of Gilgit and Kashmir, but he was held up for atime at Gilgit while telegrams passed between the local officials andthe government at Simla. There had always been something a littleridiculous, p
erhaps, in the government's barring the Gilgit road againstthe use to which roads are commonly and suitably put--travel and trade.The government had only two courses open to them: to turn him back overthe Pamirs under escort, or to allow him to pass. It was the latteralternative which they wisely adopted.

  Pluming himself not a little on his victory over red tape, as heconsidered it, Harry Appleton returned to London and remained there fortwo or three years, interesting himself in all sorts of fantasticschemes which were alike in two respects: they cost much money, and theyfailed. His friends learnt by and by without surprise that he had lostthe greater part of his Mexican fortune, and when they heard that he hadsuddenly left London again, to retrieve his fortunes by mining in theHindu Kush, they regarded it as only one more of "poor old Harry's"crack-brained adventures, and wondered what would be the end of it all.It was consequently a cause of some wonder when, after his brother'sdeath, he invited his nephews to join him in the mountain wilds,promising them a fair income to begin with, and possible wealth lateron. Why on earth a man should have gone to the Hindu Kush to mine forcopper, which could only be brought to market over hundreds of miles ofdifficult and dangerous country, was a question that puzzled even thosewho were prepared for almost any sign of insanity in "poor old Harry."

  These were the circumstances which had made the two Appletons travellingcompanions of Major Endicott in this eventful summer.

  So far the journey had been without incident. The caravan marched fromdawn to dark every day, and the two Appletons found even the ruggedmajesty of the mountains pall upon them. The pleasantest hours werethose spent in camp, when the heat and burden of the day were past. Insocial circles Major Endicott was regarded as something of a stick;ladies said he had "no conversation"; but in the silent evenings aboutthe camp fire the lads hung upon his lips as he related, in slowsentences, punctuated by puffs from his pipe, some of the incidents ofhis career. They conceived an admiration not far short of hero-worshipfor this quiet soldier, who knew so much, and had done so much, thoughhis own achievements were never the prime subject of his discourse.

  To relieve the monotony of the journey, the two lads sometimes venturedto stray from the track, knowing that the speed of their sturdy hillponies would enable them soon to catch up the rest of the slow-movingcaravan. For these divagations the opportunities were few, unless theyshould turn themselves into mountaineers, and scale on foot theprecipices on either side. But now and then there was a break in thehills to right or left, where a small mountain stream joined the largerriver that flowed through the valley, above which the road pursued itswinding course. The Major had warned them not to wander far on theseoccasions, and his warnings became more peremptory as they approachedthe quarter in which he feared that trouble might be brewing. Buthigh-spirited youth is impatient of control, and the two lads wereinclined to make light of the sober caution of their elder.

  Two days after they had encamped on the mountain side, as alreadyrelated, they were tempted to try what appeared to be a kind of trackleading up into the hills to the east. Taking advantage of a momentarypreoccupation of Major Endicott with the sowars, they turned theirponies into this track, and began to scramble up. The gradient wassteep, and the path rose higher and higher above the road they had left,but for some distance did not greatly diverge from it. At times theycould see it winding away northward beneath them, although it wasconcealed from them for long stretches by the contour of the ground, andwas sometimes difficult to distinguish from the hillside itself.

  The track appeared to lead nowhere, and after following it toilsomelyfor nearly an hour, they began to think it was time to return.

  "I hate going back the same way," said Lawrence. "Can't we manage tocut straight down, Bob?"

  "Rather risky, don't you think?" replied his brother. "This track goesup and up; there's no path down that I can see, and we don't want torisk our ponies' knees. We could do it on foot."

  "Well, look here; we ought to be able to get a good view of the groundbetween us and the road from that rock yonder. Just hold the ponies,will you, while I go and take a squint?"

  He slipped from the saddle, placed the bridle in Bob's hand, andscrambled up the side of a high rock jutting out from the path. As heexpected, when he reached the top he found the country beneath clearlymapped out. He could follow the course of the road for some distance ineach direction, except where it was hidden by crags and promontories.At the moment the caravan was out of sight. Between him and the roadthe ground was much broken, showing many narrow seams, and falling awayat places into sheer precipices. It was evident that any attempt todescend here on horseback was bound to end in disaster.

  As he cast his eye northward, he suddenly became aware of a group ofmotionless figures about a mile away, between him and the road. Impelledby some instinct of caution, perhaps acquired during his training in theschool cadets, he moved stealthily behind a jutting spur of the rock,and examined the group through his field-glass. He counted fourteenhill-men on horseback. There was no movement among them, and theirattitude, with their heads towards the road, suggested patientexpectation. They were too far away for him to determine accurately theconfiguration of the ground, but it appeared to him that they weregathered in a slight hollow about a quarter of a mile east of the road.And as he moved his glass over the intervening space, he caught sight ofa small building which had hitherto escaped his notice, so like was itin colour to the rocky ground surrounding it. In general shape itreminded him of the little wayside shelters which, called dak bungalowsin India, were known beyond the borders as rest-houses. But thisbuilding was apparently fallen into disuse. It was roofless, and muchof the stonework of the walls was broken away.

  THE AMBUSH AT THE REST HOUSE]

  While Lawrence was still examining the ruins and the group behind, heheard the rapid clatter of a horse's hoofs on the hard rock below. Atfirst he could not see the horseman, who, however, presently emergedinto view from behind a shoulder of rock to his right, and discoveredhimself as a hill-man galloping northward. Having come abreast of therest-house, he wheeled to the right, quitted the road, and made straightfor the hollow in which the group of fourteen was waiting. On joiningthem, he appeared to give them a message; they closed about him, andafter a brief consultation they all dismounted, tethered their horses tosome stunted trees at the edge of the hollow, and then moved quicklytowards the rest-house. All except one entered the ruins; the one wenta little distance from them, and took up a position behind a rock fromwhich presumably he could look up the road. It was as if he was waitingto signal some one's approach.

  The observer now shut his glass, clambered down from the rock, andhurried back to his companion.

  "Well?" said Bob. "You've been long enough."

  "Don't speak so loud. Every sound carries in these hills."

  In a whisper he went on to tell what he had seen.

  "Looks fishy, eh?" said Bob. "We must warn the Major. Can we do it intime?"

  "Come on," said Lawrence shortly.

  He remounted, and the two began to make their way back along the path,slowly at first, lest they should be heard, but more rapidly as theyincreased their distance from the rest-house. They had not ridden farwhen they caught sight, through a gap in the rocks, of a portion of thecaravan. They were still a long way from the spot where the hill-trackleft the road; the head of the caravan would have drawn much nearer tothe rest-house before they could overtake it, if they kept on theirpresent course. To give warning by a shout would but alarm the hill-men.They could save time only by hazarding a direct descent. Turningsharply off the track, they began to scramble down the hillside,trusting themselves to their sure-footed ponies. In their excitementthey gave no thought to the risks they ran, and only became partiallyaware of them when, reaching the road, they were met by Major Endicott,who had for some minutes been watching their venturesome feat withgrowing wrath and indignation.

  "You young fools!" he cried. "Of all the idiotic, asinine, torn-fo
oltricks I ever saw----"

  "But, sir----" Lawrence interrupted.

  "I thank my stars I shall soon be rid of you," the Major went onunheeding; "you'll take no warning, listen to no advice, and will eitherbreak your necks or be potted by hill-men before I get quit of you."

  "Really, sir, it's no joke," said Bob as soon as he could get a word in."There's a nice little crowd ahead waiting to get an easy shot at you."

  "_What's_ this?" demanded the Major.

  "Oh, I just happened to spy a gang of armed hill-men sneaking into ahalf-ruined rest-house a mile or so ahead," said Lawrence. "We camedown to warn you; it's a pity we didn't think of our necks."

  "Just describe them to me, will you?" said Major Endicott, now the cool,alert soldier again.

  "I couldn't see them very well, but they seemed all alike, big fellowswith black beards, dressed in dark-brown, with skin hats of some sort.I counted fifteen altogether. One is on the look-out, the rest arehiding in the ruins."

  "You didn't see a larger body anywhere, nor single scouts in the hills?"

  "Neither."

  "And how far ahead?"

  "Well, about a mile as the crow flies from where I caught sight of them;we've come back a mile or more, and what with the windings of the road,I should say they're something over two miles away."

  The Major had halted; the sowars sat their horses motionless a few yardsbehind; the mule-train was still straggling on far in the rear. Themarch was now resumed, Major Endicott pondering in silence the newsbrought him. He had no doubt that the men whom the lads had seenbelonged to the tribe he was on his way to visit. His coming was almostcertainly known to them, for news spreads through the hills almost asquickly as if it were flashed by telegraph. The fact that theambuscade--such it clearly was--was so small seemed to show that thetribe as a whole was not in arms; but, as the Major well knew, many afrontier war had been precipitated by a few hot-heads, who had forcedthe hand of their community by some impetuous action. He foresawtrouble, but he was not the man to be diverted from his purpose by sucha difficulty as this. Having set out to pacify the tribe, he meant tocomplete his journey; but obviously the news brought him was not to bedisregarded.

  He decided that he must see for himself the nature of the ambuscade, butit was necessary to act in such a way as to awaken no suspicion amongthe tribesmen, if, as was possible, there were watchers on the hillside.Ordering the sowars to continue their march slowly, the Major rode backwith the Appletons and his native orderly until he reached the firstmules of the caravan. In obedience to his command, one of the muleteersloosed the girths of the animal he led, and let the baggage it carriedslip down a gentle slope at the roadside. This brought the caravan to ahalt, and the wondering Astoris were instructed to go very leisurelyabout the work of recovering and restrapping the load. Then withLawrence and the orderly he galloped back to the spot where thehill-track branched from the road, and turning into this, hastened onuntil he reached the rock whence the lad had made his observations.There taking a swift glance at the rest-house below, he came to a suddenresolution.

  "If anything happens to me," he said to Lawrence, "ride back as fast asyou can, and make the best of your way up the road with the caravanuntil you reach the nearest fort."

  "But what are you going to do, sir?" asked Lawrence rather anxiously.

  The Major did not reply, but spoke a few words in Urdu to the orderly.Then, leaving his horse with the two, he began to clamber down rapidly,yet with caution, in the direction of the rest-house. His course wastortuous, as much to avoid obstacles as to escape observation from theruins, or by the man on the look-out close at hand. Every now and thenhe vanished from sight, and Lawrence watched nervously for hisreappearance. He could not guess the Major's intentions, and it seemedto him that, foolhardy as his own exploit had been in riding down thehillside, the soldier's action in approaching alone the scene of theambush was stark madness. When, after a long interval during which theMajor had been lost to view, he suddenly emerged within a few yards ofthe rest-house, Lawrence caught his breath. Probably the situation wasfar more trying to him who watched than to the man who was apparentlytaking his life in his hand.

  The Major was drawing near to the ruined building by a path somewhatnorthward of the spot from which the hill-men had entered it. Lawrencesaw at once that his approach was covered from them, and from thewatcher on the south side, by what remained of the north wall of thebuilding. Tingling with curiosity and apprehension mingled, he beheldthe tall soldierly figure move swiftly towards the gap which had oncebeen the doorway, enter, and disappear.

  "Good heavens! what is he about?" he thought.

  He looked round at the orderly, but the man's dusky face was devoid ofany expression; only his eyes gleamed as they stared fixedly at theopening by which the Major had entered.

  To Lawrence the minutes seemed to lengthen into hours. He saw thelook-out, a moment or two after the Major's disappearance, turn roundsuddenly, and hasten into the building. For some time nothing happened.There was neither sight nor sound to indicate that the building wasanything more than what it seemed--an unoccupied and deserted ruin.Lawrence became more and more nervous. Major Endicott was not the manto utter a warning lightly; he had clearly anticipated a possibledanger; and the tension became distressing as the lad waited and waited,expecting every moment to hear a shot, or a cry of fierce anger orsavage exultation.

  "What is he doing?" he asked of the orderly.

  The man simply murmured "Sahib!" deprecatingly, without turning his eyesfrom the rest-house.

  The suspense was becoming unendurable when suddenly, after what wasperhaps ten minutes, but seemed as many hours, the Major's tall formreappeared in the broken doorway. The orderly's impassivity gave wayfor the first time; he uttered a single grunt of satisfaction. Lawrencefelt unutterably relieved, yet puzzled, for by the Major's side stoodone of the hill-men, and as they came out into the open they werefollowed by all the rest; he counted them as they filed out; the numberwas fifteen in all.

  The Major signalled with his hand, and the two watchers, guessing at hismeaning, rode on a little way until they came to the spot where he hadbegun his descent. Dismounting, and leading the horses carefully, theypicked their way, the orderly leading, down the steep and ruggedhillside. When they came to the foot, and joined the party, the Majorturned to the man who had come first out of the ruins with him, and witha slight smile addressed him in a strange tongue. The man drew himselfup, clicked his heels together, and saluted Lawrence in military style,murmuring:

  "Salaam, sahib."

  Then the whole party mounted their horses, and made their way at awalking pace up the road towards the caravan.