“Tell you what,” said Colonel Decies, “when I get up there again, have a good squint and see if you think you can locate the spot for yourself from below. If you can, I’ll come down again and we’ll both go up on the oont. Bring the poor beggar down much better if one of us can hold him while the other drives the camel. It’s no Grand Trunk Road, by Jove.”
“Right-O,” acquiesced Captain Digby-Soames. “If I can get a clear bearing to a point immediately below where you hover, I’ll lie flat on the ground as an affirmative signal. If there’s no good landmark I’ll stay perpendicular, what?”
“That’s it,” said Colonel Decies, and, with a swift run and throbbing whirr, the aeroplane soared from the ground and rose to where, a thousand feet from the plain, lay the mangled “problem”. As it came to a halt and hovered[[29]] (like a gigantic dragon-fly poised on its invisibly-rapid wings above a pool), the junior officer’s practised eye noted a practicable gully that debouched on a level with, and not far from, the ledge over which the aeroplane hung, and that a stunted thorn-tree stood below the shelf and two large cactus bushes on its immediate left. Having taken careful note of other landmarks and glanced at the sun, he lay on the ground at full length for a minute and then arose and approached the camel, who greeted him with a bubbling snarl. On its great double saddle were a gun-cover and a long cane, while from it dangled a haversack, camera, cartridge-case, satchel, canvas water-bag, and a cord-net holdall of odds and ends.
[29] By means of its “Decies Horizontal Screw Stabilizer,” which enabled it to “hover” with only a very slight rise and fall.
Obviously the “problem’s” shikar-camel. Apparently he was out without any shikarri, orderly, or servant—a foolish thing to do when stalking in country in which a sprained ankle is more than a possibility, and a long-range bullet in the back a probability anywhere on that side of the border.
The aeroplane returned to earth and grounded near by. Stopping the engine Colonel Decies climbed out and swung himself into the rear seat of the camel saddle. Captain Digby-Soames sprang into the front one and the camel lurched to its feet, and was driven to the mouth of the gully which the Captain had noted as running up to the scene of the tragedy.
To and fro, in and out of the gully, winding, zig-zagging, often travelling a hundred yards to make a dozen, the sure-footed and well-trained beast made its way upward.
“Coming down will be joy,” observed the Colonel. “I’d sooner be on a broken aeroplane in a cyclone.”
“Better hop off here, I should think,” said Captain Digby-Soames anon. “We can lead him a good way yet, though. Case of divided we stand, united we fall. Let him fall by himself if he wants to,” and at the next reasonably level spot the camel was made to kneel, that his riders might descend. Slithering down from a standing camel is not a sport to practise on a steep hillside, if indulged in at all.
Another winding, scrambling climb and the head of the nullah was reached.