"What has happened?" said Bob shortly: he was always impatient of the Babu's determination that no one should forget he was a Calcutta B.A.
And then Ditta Lal, driven to brevity by shortness of breath and the difficulty of keeping pace with Bob's long strides, related the occurrences of the past hour.
Very shortly after Bob had left the mine in his aeroplane, when the domestic staff were at breakfast, and the Sikhs were engaged in carrying out his instructions, a clamour had suddenly broken out on the other side of the river. Looking across, they had seen the whole body of Kalmuck miners rushing tumultuously over the neutral ground into the Pathans' quarters. Before Gur Buksh could order his men to fire, the two parties were inextricably mixed. For a few seconds there had been a wild, fierce conflict; then the Pathans, taken by surprise and hopelessly outnumbered, fled like deer up the track, pursued by the Kalmucks. Some of these paused for a little to fire and plunder the Pathans' huts, then sped after their comrades. By this time Gur Buksh had lined his men up near the drawbridge and ordered them to fire at the Kalmucks. Several of them dropped, and there lay with them on the ground a few of the Pathans who, unable to get away in time, had fallen to their enemies' knives.
Gur Buksh had been ordered not to leave the mine with his men, and true to his military discipline he had obeyed his instructions to the letter. But Chunda Beg had sent over some of the servants to bring in the wounded men, among whom were several Kalmucks. The former were now being tended in the outhouses; the latter were locked up in one of the sheds. Meanwhile the Pathans and their pursuers had disappeared along the track. Ever since, sounds of firing had been heard intermittently, growing fainter and fainter. It was clear that the Pathans were still in retreat, and also that, in spite of the surprise, some of them at least had managed to snatch up their arms before they ran. By this time they must be several miles away.
"What was the cause of the outbreak?" asked Bob.
Ditta Lal could only suggest that it was due to sudden madness inspired by the Furies. Bob left him, to consult the havildar. He was utterly perplexed. It seemed as though there were electric communication between the Kalmuck miners and their countrymen down-stream, for they could not have heard already of what had happened forty miles away.
It was not merely perplexing, but a staggering blow. Bob had reckoned on employing the Pathans to garrison the mine if resistance should be considered possible, or at least on forming a compact body to accompany his retreat if he should feel it necessary to abandon the place. Apparently they were now hopelessly dispersed, and he could not help thinking that such of them as escaped the guns of their pursuers would hasten up the valley towards their homes. At that moment he almost made up his mind that his only course was to follow them as quickly as he could: the defence of the mine seemed utterly impossible.
Then another element of the situation forced itself upon his tired brain. The Kalmucks, when they had driven the Pathans away, would doubtless return. If they were allowed to get past the mine, Lawrence and his party would be completely cut off. They could scarcely arrive before nightfall; there was ample time for the Kalmucks to hurry back, and force their way past, even though the rifles of the Sikhs might account for some of them. The interception of Lawrence must be prevented at all costs, and in the necessity of devising some means to this end Bob had no leisure to acquaint Gur Buksh with his morning's discovery.
"We must keep the Kalmucks off till Lawrence Sahib is back," he said. "How can we do it?"
"Bring the machine gun to the south wall, sahib," replied the old Sikh.