The Air Patrol: A Story of the North-west FrontierStrang, Herbert
General
The Air Patrol: A Story of the North-west Frontier
Strang, Herbert
Adventure stories; Airplanes -- Juvenile fiction; British -- India -- Juvenile fiction; Imaginary wars and battles -- Juvenile fiction
While still at some distance, Lawrence heard rifle-shots, though neither
he nor Fazl could as yet see any signs of the enemy. He felt his heart
thumping. He was still in time, then; for if all was over the firing
would have ceased. Planing down in a long glide, he passed over the
tower, still at a considerable altitude, and then suddenly caught sight
of an encampment in a nullah on the farther side. In the brief moment
of his crossing he was not able to get more than a glimpse of it; the
nullah was so deep, and the encampment encompassed so closely by shrubs,
dwarf pines, and other trees, that he might have missed it altogether
but for a thin column of smoke arising from a fire in the bottom. But
his rapid glance was enough for reassurance; the camp would have been
struck if the tower was captured; it was clear that the Major was still
holding out.
Dropping still lower, he began to sweep round in a circle. Before he
reached the nullah again Fazl pointed out to him a number of isolated
dots on the rugged surface below, spread over an extensive patch of
ground. Some were small, others larger, and as he flew by Fazl
explained that they were groups of the enemy, who had posted themselves
wherever the nature of the ground gave them cover from the fire of the
occupants of the tower. They were disposed in a rough semicircle about
the western wall, in which there was a door. The approach on this side
was by a steep slope; on the other side the tower was apparently
inaccessible.
Between the wall and this semicircle of besiegers were scattered at
irregular intervals a number of dark forms.
"Dead!" ejaculated Fazl.
They were evidently the bodies of men who had fallen in attempting to
rush the place. Ganda Singh had mentioned that on the day he left the
Afghans had made a vigorous assault, but were beaten back with heavy
loss.
Bringing the aeroplane round so as to pass again over the encampment,
Lawrence noticed a number of horses picketed near the rough huts. The
Gurkha cried excitedly that the animals were kicking and straining at
their ropes, and men were rushing to hold them. The noise of the engine
had thrown them into a state of blind terror. Two or three broke away,
and galloped madly up the nullah.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account