The Cruise of the Gyro-Car

by Herbert Strang

“Certainly it is; there is no other,” was the reply. “We must go back and meet them, or, if you please, stay here and shoot; we can kill a good many of them before we ourselves are killed.”

Maurice consulted with his brother.

“The question is, are you willing to be collared again?” said George, when he understood the position. “I am not, I tell you frankly. There will have to be a fight, and it’s not our fault; they fired at us. If any of these fellows have pluck enough to keep Slavianski off while the rest of us work, I don’t see why we shouldn’t cut a way through this obstruction—it’s loose earth.”

Maurice put the suggestion to Giulika and Zutni, and with them examined the position. It was clear that, posted behind the rocks at the bend in the path, a few bold spirits could hold a regiment at bay. Screened from sight themselves, they would have the enemy in full view, and as these approached the bend they would be completely at the mercy of the hidden marksmen. The Albanians, accustomed to mountain warfare, grasped the possibilities of the situation; their only doubt was whether the obstructing bank of earth could be cut through in time, but they were ready to make the attempt.

Accordingly a division of the party was made. Zutni and a few of the best marksmen posted themselves behind convenient rocks; the rest, with assistance from the Englishmen, set to work with knives and rifles to cleave a way through the obstacle. It was arduous work, lacking proper implements, and with the sun beating upon them in all its midday strength. As George pointed out, the gyro-car needed only a narrow passage, and if the enemy could be held off for an hour or two the task might be accomplished.

Some ten minutes after they had begun work, there was a crack from Zutni’s rifle. Slavianski and his party, approaching on horseback in single file, at once came to a halt. The Albanians among them recognised that they had the worst of the position, and though as yet only one shot had been fired, they guessed that there were other marksmen lurking behind the rocks. They dismounted and held a consultation, their perfectly-trained horses standing stock-still.

Presently the man next to Zutni caught sight of the muzzle of a rifle edging round the bend, and then the arm of the Albanian holding the weapon. Keeping his eye fixed on the slowly-moving objects, the watcher bided his time. Then there was a crack and a flash: the rifle dropped from the hand of the advancing enemy on to the path. The arm disappeared. But in a few moments the fallen rifle was drawn slowly backward by an unseen hand.

Save for the noise of the shots, and the sounds made by the men in clearing the path, the silence of that mountain solitude had hitherto been scarcely broken. Now an eagle, which had been startled by the crack of the rifles, flew over the place with a hoarse scream, and there broke in upon it the voice of Count Slavianski urging the Albanians, in their own tongue, to make a dash upon the fugitives. Maurice smiled when he heard the answer, roared in so loud a tone that it was plain the Count was some distance behind his vanguard.

“You are our leader, excellence,” cried the men. “We follow you.”

It was not surprising that the mountaineers were reluctant to advance. They knew from what had happened already that the first man to show himself round the corner would be shot before he could see his enemy to make a target of him. And there was a delicious irony in the man’s retort that pleased Maurice. The Count, however courageous he might be—and the Englishmen had had no reason to doubt his courage—was debarred from undertaking the office of leader by the narrowness of the path. It was blocked by the men and horses of his party, and no change could be made in the order of their advance, unless they were willing to retrace their steps for some distance, to a spot where a cleft in the rocky hill-side would permit them to turn without falling over the precipice. But this plan had apparently not yet occurred to them, for Slavianski continued his exhortations, which led to an altercation that became increasingly acrimonious.