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

by Herbert Strang

He was only in the nick of time, for the Sikhs already had their rifles at the shoulder, pointed at the black object in the water. With soldierly obedience they kept their fingers from the trigger, though they were amazed at the order. Bob was astonished at himself. His command had been almost involuntary; only after he had spoken was he conscious of the motive impelling him. It was a sportsman's admiration for pluck and resourcefulness. Of course the Kalmucks had tricked him, but he was young enough to admire their courage more than he resented their trickery.

In another moment the head had disappeared. It was now too late to change his mind, even if he had wished it.

"They are gone!" screamed the Babu. "Sir, you have allowed them to bunk. Why this fatal hesitation? Why this neglect of precious opportunity? You cast pearls before swine, sir--and by pearls I mean mercy and ruth and all that. They will turn again and rend you. Sir, I repeat----"

Here Bob cut in. As a rule he was disposed to humour the Babu, whom he found amusing at times, and whom he believed to be well-intentioned. Now, however, he had neither time nor patience to argue, even if any amount of argument could have made the Bengali understand his point of view.

"Get back to your stores," he said sternly, and Ditta Lal, who was always abashed and rendered speechless by a rebuff, shuffled off disconsolately.

Bob was not disposed to let the two Kalmucks escape altogether. No amount of pluck or cleverness could wipe out his recollection of their crimes. To bring them to justice was a duty he owed himself and the Pathans. Less than a minute after they had disappeared he ordered two of the Sikhs to cross the bridge and pursue them along the track.

"Don't shoot them: march them back to the mine," he said. "There I will deal with them."

The men set off to do his bidding. Meanwhile the four miners of Nurla Bai's escort had remained where they stood when their leader took his plunge. They fell back when they saw the Sikhs approaching them, crying out that they had been ignorant of Nurla's intention. Bob saw no reason to doubt them, but as he sent them back to rejoin their fellows up the river he reflected that he had done wisely in arranging to let only a few men pass at a time.

He had little doubt that the two fugitives would be caught. For a distance the stream ran too swiftly for runners on the bank to keep up with it, but farther north, with the widening of the channel, the rate of the current diminished. Then, whether the men continued swimming or climbed up to the track, they would be equally at the mercy of their pursuers. The threat to shoot them could hardly fail to bring about their surrender; while if they trusted to their speed along the track, they would fall into the hands of Lawrence and his party, who must now be very near. He therefore dismissed the crowd, ordered Gur Buksh to keep good watch both up- and down-stream, and returned to the house to snatch a brief nap until his brother arrived.

It was a few minutes before five when Chunda Beg woke him, and told him that the chota sahib was at hand. He ran down to the bridge, and saw with great thankfulness that Lawrence and all his party were safe. But he was disappointed to notice that, though the two Sikhs were among them, they were without Nurla Bai.