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

by Herbert Strang

About four o'clock in the morning he was roused by the sound of two rifle shots in quick succession. Springing fully clothed from his bed, he rushed into the compound, called up the detachment whose turn it was to take duty at the breastwork, and led them at the double across the bridge and down the track. By the time he reached the position he found a furious fight in progress. The two scouts whom Lawrence had thrown out to give warning if the enemy moved had heard the tramp of men advancing, fired their rifles as a signal, and run back to join their own party. They were so closely followed by the Kalmucks, whose forms could be dimly seen in the twilight, that Lawrence had been unable to fire at once for fear of hitting the scouts, so that the enemy were within a few yards of the breastwork before they met with any resistance.

Reinforced by Bob's men, the party now opened fire with deadly effect, but the attackers were so numerous that the rush was scarcely checked. There was only time for a second volley before the head of the enemy's column surged up against the breastwork. They had held their fire until they were able to see the dark forms of their adversaries. Then their shots, fired point-blank, laid low several of the Sikhs and Pathans. Supported by the swarms in their rear they began to clamber up the rampart, in the teeth of the bristling bayonets opposed to them. On their side was the advantage of numbers: on the side of the defenders that of position; but Bob recognised in a minute that his men, ply their bayonets as they might, must soon be overwhelmed by sheer weight.

Suddenly a beam of light flashed over and past the scene of the conflict, resting on the track immediately beyond the breastwork, which was crowded with yelling Kalmucks pressing on to support their comrades. Gur Buksh in the compound had switched on the searchlight. It was not the blinding glare associated with the searchlights of forts and battleships, but it had sufficient illuminating power to show up the disorderly mass of the charging force.

For a moment it made no alteration in the conditions. Bob and his brother, with barely a score of men left to them, were hard pushed to hold the breastwork. Faster than they could hurl the enemy down at the point of the bayonet, others swarmed up. Bob was on the point of shouting an order to retire to his own original breastwork up the track when, above the shouts and yells of the combatants, sounded the characteristic rattle of the machine gun. Instantly he recognised how this might operate in his favour. The gun could not be trained on the men who were actually at grips with him, but in a few seconds it had swept a huge gap in the column advancing in serried ranks along the track, and deprived his immediate assailants of their support.

He at once took advantage of this fortunate diversion. Instead of retiring, he cried to the men to stand firm, and the desperate work at the rampart went on. For some time the Kalmucks there did not know or failed to appreciate what was happening behind them. They still pressed on and up, and but for the timely arrival of another dozen men despatched by Gur Buksh from the mine they might even now have carried the position. The reinforcement turned the scale. Bob called on his men for a final effort, and he and Lawrence flashed their revolvers in the very faces of the crowd. Fired by their example the men thrust and jabbed with redoubled energy, and in a few minutes hurled the last of the assailants back on to the track.

They found themselves in a terrifying quandary. The space between them and their baffled comrades was illuminated by the fatal band of light. The machine gun had ceased to play on the track when it was cleared of the enemy. Now there were forty or fifty men trapped in the dark wedge-like area between the beam of the searchlight and the breastwork. They knew that if any of them dared to attempt a rush back they would be the target for innumerable bullets. One or two did rashly hazard a retreat, but as soon as they encroached upon the luminous band the gun's rattle scarcely gave them warning of the shots that fell among them almost instantaneously. The rest cowered in the darkness, waiting for death.

Bob had to hold his men with a tight rein to prevent them from leaping the breastwork and massacring their despairing foes. He had thought of a better way. Fyz Ali could make himself understood by them. Through his lips Bob told them that if they laid down their arms they might retire, taking their wounded with them. They eagerly accepted the proffered mercy, but shrank from acting on it, until they were assured that a message had been sent to the havildar to refrain from firing at them. Then, utterly cowed, they handed their weapons over the breastwork, gathered up such of their comrades as were yet alive, and carried them in all haste across the illuminated space and out of sight.

This was an auspicious beginning for the fifth day. It was the greatest triumph that the garrison had as yet achieved, and the men were proportionably elated. The enemy on the other hand were dejected and despondent. For some hours they remained at a distance. In the afternoon, however, they resumed their skirmishing tactics, and under cover of a renewed bombardment crept nearer and nearer to the breastwork. When their field guns had to cease fire for fear of hitting the skirmishers, Bob decided to venture a charge, and led twenty of his best men in a sudden leap over the barricade. The enemy did not wait for the touch of the terrible bayonets. They fired a scattered volley and fled. A lucky shot from Ganda Singh's rifle brought down one of the rearmost, and he rolled down the rocks on to the track. Acting on the unconsidered impulse of the moment Bob sent two of the Sikhs to make him prisoner, and when Lawrence shortly afterwards returned to the compound for his afternoon sleep, he took the wounded man with him, and had his injuries attended to.

He proved to be an officer. Interrogating him through Shan Tai, Lawrence learnt that the general himself was on his way to the mine to make a personal inspection of the position. The Kalmuck, who seemed grateful for the attentions shown him, advised Lawrence to yield. His people's comparative inactivity that day was only preliminary to a crushing blow. "Without your flying machine," he said, "you would by this time have been destroyed. That gave you an advantage. Soon the advantage will be on our side."

"Will the presence of your general do so much for you?" asked Lawrence.