There was no more dozing that night. The whole party sat nursing their rifles and chatting quietly. Lawrence got the men to relate some of the experiences of their life, and though he could not understand very much of what they said, he recognized that there was a rich mine of anecdote to be drawn upon as soon as he had sufficient command of their language.
The remaining hours of darkness were undisturbed, and at dawn there was no renewal of hostilities. The daylight gave a clue to the means by which the enemy had crossed the river. At the foot of the rocks south of the bridge, near Lawrence's rifle, lay several inflated water-skins. Fyz Ali guessed that the men had crept along the opposite bank to some distance above the bridge, then taken the water, and supporting themselves on the skins, had steered themselves over.
Lawrence wondered whether the enemy had evacuated their position beyond the bend in the track. Attempts to draw their fire were unsuccessful, and he remained in doubt until the passing of the aeroplane overhead was saluted with a volley. His doubts being now removed, he waited anxiously for Bob's return. His uncle's fate, never for long absent from his mind, made him uneasy as to his brother's chances of escaping scot-free. As time passed, and there was no sign of the aeroplane, he grew more and more restless, imagining all sorts of mishaps that might have occurred. He expected Bob to return within half an hour; it would not take longer to fly to the plateau and back; and his watch having stopped through his immersion on the previous day, he could only guess at the flight of time, with the result that he supposed Bob's absence to have been longer than it really was.
His intense relief when at last he saw the aeroplane in the distant sky, gave way to disquietude again when Bob swooped down towards the bridge within range of the enemy's fire. The fluttering of the red flag was welcome to him, even though he understood it as a sign that the enemy were in considerable force. It was also a signal to retreat to the mine, and he was glad of the chance of stretching his limbs and of soon rejoining his brother. He at once gave orders to the men to return to their horses. They crossed the open space at the double until they gained the shelter of the screen of rocks. No shots followed them. There was no horse for Lawrence, but Fyz Ali assured him that his own mount was capable of bearing a double burden, and he decided to ride behind him until they had got some distance up the track, and then to walk.
He felt that there was no serious risk of pursuit at present. Although the enemy had shown that they could cross the river with the aid of water-skins, they would have great difficulty in bringing their horses over. So he reckoned on getting a long enough start to meet the reinforcements that Bob had promised to send down. Then the combined party, taking advantage of the many defensive positions which the broken ground afforded, could make good their retreat to the mine even against a more numerous enemy in pursuit.
CHAPTER THE TWELFTH
A SKIRMISH ON THE BANK
Lawrence, riding behind Fyz Ali, reflected with rueful amusement on the fate which had made him a sort of soldier in his own despite. "I'm not cut out for this kind of job," he thought. "Bob would be elated at having shivered through a night watch, and beaten off an attack. I don't feel particularly jolly; in fact, I feel thoroughly rotten; and there's more to come, worse luck."
It is said that the greatest commanders have felt depressed rather than exalted after a victory; so that, remembering the hardships and anxieties of the past twenty-four hours, one can sympathize with Lawrence Appleton. It did not occur to him that he had come through his recent ordeal with much credit, and he was quite unaware that the Pathans ahead were discussing him as they rode, summing him up, and deciding that the chota sahib was a first-rate fighting man.
After riding at a trot for about half a mile, Lawrence said: