For two days the aeroplanes had nothing to report except the movements of small parties of not more than six men, and always in the mountains to the south. On the third a ‘plane dropped the exciting news that a big column, estimated at several hundred men, was marching south-west with an advance of scouts to a depth of two miles.
Blake at once turned out his men, and made off south at full speed. At the same time a column left Castleport to make its way up the coast road and intercept the gunmen before they could debouch from the mountains—their orders being to advance up a valley from the coast to a shooting-lodge, which was situated at the junction of three valleys, two of which lead north-east and south-west round the foot of Falcon Mountain. Here they were to wait while Blake endeavoured to drive the gunmen down the north-east valley towards them.
For twenty-four hours Blake kept up a running fight with the gunmen in the mountains, always trying to head them towards the valley which leads to the foot of Falcon Mountain, and at last, when his men could hardly move, had the satisfaction of seeing the gunmen making for the valley.
The police followed slowly and painfully, to find not a sign of a human being at the shooting-lodge. The men flung themselves down in the heather, beat to the world, and some of them even burst into tears of rage.
The explanation came afterwards. The Castleport party received orders to proceed up the valley from the sea, and intercept the gunmen at a shooting-lodge. Unfortunately there were two lodges—one on the shore of a lake about half-way up the valley from the sea, and the second and right one at the junction of the three valleys. Naturally the Castleport party, none of whom had been in these mountains before, stopped at the first lodge they came to on the shore of the lake.
A thick mist came up off the sea that night, and the gunmen, who had taken refuge on the upper rocky slopes of Falcon Mountain, slipped through the cordon in the mist in twos and threes, commandeered bicycles, and so made good their escape.
Some time afterwards, being again very hard pressed, large parties of gunmen took up their quarters in the Ballyrick Mountains, and lay low. Gradually their numbers increased, until it was reported that the mountains carried as many gunmen as sheep.
At this time the Government appeared to have at last realised that the only way to restore order in Ireland was to oppose force by superior force. Many people could have given them this information months previously.
A report went through Ireland that the Government was massing artillery at Holyhead to mow down the I.R.A. with their brutal high explosives and shrapnel. In reality what happened was that all batteries in England were turned into mounted infantry, only about twenty-five men being left with a battery, and concentrated at Holyhead, preparatory to crossing to Ireland.
To Blake’s joy, the Ballyrick country was chosen as the first scene of what was fondly supposed would be the end of the rebellion.