"Well, we'll take you, any time you like."
"Alas, sir! I am, through no fault of my own, fat and scant of breath, and rapid transit through rarefied atmosphere would blow me out--I mean, put disastrous strain upon my panting lungs."
"D'you know, Babu, I think you're a funk."
"I repel charge with honest indignation, sir. I am bold as a lion, king of beasts--on terra firma, sir."
They had been using the aeroplane for about a fortnight when a convoy of provisions arrived. The leader of the caravan brought news which gave interesting material for discussion at the supper-table, and which was talked over with scarcely less eagerness among the natives. The man reported that he had had great difficulty in getting through. Apparently an embargo had been laid on all food stuffs. Armed and mounted men were flocking south-west from all parts of Mongolia, and the talk of the country was that another great movement against Russia was in preparation.
"They'll have a tougher job this time," said Mr. Appleton, in the quiet hour before bedtime. "It was easy enough to lop off one of the extremities of the empire, but they'll find things more difficult as they near the European border, if that's what they are aiming at. I don't know whether you know anything about history----"
"I know Napoleon's campaigns, not much else," said Bob.
"Well, you can take it from me, then, that when the Mongols were at their strongest they couldn't keep a permanent footing in European Russia. But there's such a lot of them, all mounted, too, that there's just a chance they may sweep across the southern plains as their forefathers did. Russia is in a bad way; they know that, of course. This long war with Germany has broken her credit; she's seething with unrest and rebellion; Finland's in revolt at last, and I shouldn't wonder if the Poles make a move now: they wouldn't before, because they don't love the Germans. It'll be rather curious if the Mongols do cut a slice out of the bloated monster."
A night or two after this, when the caravan had departed, Bob awoke in the small hours, and feeling rather thirsty, got up for a drink. The day had been very hot, and before returning to bed he sat at the open window to inhale the fresh cool breeze that blew along the gorge. Everything was very still. All that he could hear was the gurgling of the stream, now swollen to its full extent by the melted snow from the mountains; and the occasional whinny of a horse from the sheds that served as stables on the other side.
He had sat thus for a few minutes drinking in the beauty of the night when his eye was caught by a faint glow in the distance. It seemed to be near the entrance of the Pathan gallery, his own section of the mine. The glow flickered; it was not strong enough to light up the surroundings.