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

by Herbert Strang

"But the mere sight of the aeroplane might be enough for them after what has happened. Still, it's just as well to be prepared. Bluffing sometimes doesn't come off, and the aeroplane is useless for offensive action without the bombs. If you do find the Major fighting a rear-guard action don't be too tender. Strike hard if you strike at all."

"Well, I'll do what I must. Don't expect us before to-morrow night at the earliest. I shall have to come down at times, or the petrol won't last out; and when the Major is within a few miles I'll fly back ahead of him if all's safe. So long!"

Bob watched him out of sight. He felt a little anxious; he would have been alarmed had he known that within five miles of the mine the engine began to give trouble again. Lawrence was in two minds whether to return and have it thoroughly overhauled, or to continue on his course. But he felt that delay might be serious to the Major, and, as before, the engine might soon right itself. He kept straight on. His hopes were flattered when, after a minute or two of fitful explosions, the engine worked normally again.

But he had only flown about half-way to the tower, as he guessed, when the trouble recommenced. Hoping against hope, he continued his flight for a minute or so, until he became convinced that the engine was on the point of breaking down utterly. He had been preparing himself for the possibility, but found himself in a serious difficulty now that the problem actually faced him. The valley at the point which he had reached was broader than at the mine, and not so rocky or broken up as it was in many other parts. But it offered few spots where even the most intrepid and experienced airman would care to risk a descent. The banks of the river were covered with thick scrub and bushes; here and there on the hill-side there were patches of brushwood and small clumps of trees; everywhere the ground was broken. But it was no time for picking and choosing. If he had not begun to plane down by the time the engine finally failed, the chances were that he would be smashed to pieces.

Casting an anxious look on the ground, he decided to make for an open space between two belts of woodland. He could not tell whether it was as level as it seemed; all that he was sure of was that it allowed room for alighting and was free from considerable obstructions.

The problem of descent had so fully occupied him that not until he had actually begun the vol plané did he remember with a thrill of consternation the dynamite bombs at his feet. For a moment his brain seemed paralysed; then, as he realized the full measure of his peril, he braced himself to deal with it. If the ground proved to be less smooth than it seemed, the shock of alighting might well be severe enough to explode the dynamite. Then, instead of a broken chassis or a wrenched stay, and a few bruises--the slight mishaps that had befallen many an airman--the result would be the complete shattering of the aeroplane and himself. The only way of safety was to jettison the bombs, and he instantly stooped to pick them up one by one and cast them over the side. There followed a series of detonations like pistol-shots much magnified, each louder than the one before. The bombs fell behind the aeroplane as it descended in a gliding swoop, and Lawrence was now beset by a new anxiety: whether, maintaining his control of the machine, he could get rid of the bombs fast enough to escape risk of damage by the explosions as he neared the ground. There would have been little or no danger if he had been flying at speed; but his downward course being at a rather large angle, the closer he came to the ground, the nearer he would be to the scene of the last explosion.

A spectator would have had a poor opinion of the airmanship of the pilot whose machine was descending so unsteadily. To control planes, elevator, and rudder; to keep an eye on the ground; and at the same time to cast the bombs overboard: all these simultaneous tasks put a severe strain upon his nerve, agility, and judgment. He got rid of the last bomb within about thirty feet of the ground, and immediately shifted the elevator to avoid a too sudden landing. It was fortunate that he checked the descent when he did; but he was too near the ground to escape altogether. The force of the explosion set the aeroplane rocking as in a gale of wind. He was enveloped in a cloud of smoke and dust and fragments of rock. For a moment or two he lost control of the machine, and instead of alighting evenly, one side hit the ground first, and it toppled over. Lawrence was flung out. As he rose dizzily to his feet, he thought himself lucky to have escaped with a few bruises and a pain in his left ankle, which had apparently been turned over as he fell.

When he regained his scattered wits he limped to the aeroplane, and looked at it ruefully. At first sight it appeared to be wrecked, but on examining it more closely he was relieved to find that the damage was such as could be repaired with a little care. The left side of the chassis was twisted; some of the stays were broken, and the left-hand plane was badly ripped.

"A narrow squeak," he said to himself. "And now what on earth is to be done?"

He sat down and felt his sprained ankle. It was very tender to the touch, and he realized that he could not set off on foot to meet the Major, but must remain until he arrived. At a guess he had come about twenty-five miles from the mine. The Major could not be nearer than ten miles. He could not expect to see him for three hours at least. The whole prospect was gloomy. The aeroplane could only be repaired at the mine, and it was quite impossible for the three sowars and Fazl to transport it over twenty-five miles of a narrow and difficult track. It seemed as if the machine must be left where it lay until men could be fetched from the mine to take it to pieces, and that would need Bob's superintendence. The proposed flight to the British post was out of the question, and he knew the Major well enough to be sure that he would revert to his original intention of making the journey on horseback, alone. Altogether it was a desperately vexatious plight.