"Let us get our field-glasses. We can then examine every crevice in the other bank. We can't get to the other side and examine this. By the way, how did you get across?"
"One of the ropes that formed the hand-rails of the bridge is uninjured. It sags a bit, but it's just taut enough to swing over by."
For some time they marched up and down, above and below the spot where their uncle had fallen. Bob stripped to his shirt, and swam along with the current below the track, searching every cranny into which he thought the body might have been carried. No discovery rewarded his care except a primitive fishing net, the meshes of which had caught upon the jagged edges of a rock.
"Do you think the Kalmucks got hold of him?" said Lawrence when they again met.
"Upon my word, I had almost forgotten them. They may have done so. It's clear that they got out of the river, and their horses, too. I didn't see them as I flew up. What more can we do?"
"I don't know. I'm dead beat. I can't help thinking that the Kalmucks must have captured him, alive or dead. When we have rested we had better get our rifles and go and meet the Pathans. They ought to be near by this time. With them hunting on horseback and ourselves in the aeroplane we can scour the country. But we must tell our men; it's no good starting without them."
"I think you're right. We'll get something to eat, and by the time you've had a rest, no doubt the men will arrive."
CHAPTER THE EIGHTH
THE EDGE OF THE STORM
They swung themselves across the river hand over hand on the rope. On returning to the aeroplane Bob opened a box of sardines and took out of a biscuit tin some of the flat bread-cakes baked by the Chinese cook. But neither he nor Lawrence had any appetite. After a few minutes Lawrence got up.