The Stolen Bacillus and Other Incidents Read online

  THE FLYING MAN

  The Ethnologist looked at the _bhimraj_ feather thoughtfully. "Theyseemed loth to part with it," he said.

  "It is sacred to the Chiefs," said the lieutenant; "just as yellowsilk, you know, is sacred to the Chinese Emperor."

  The Ethnologist did not answer. He hesitated. Then opening the topicabruptly, "What on earth is this cock-and-bull story they have of aflying man?"

  The lieutenant smiled faintly. "What did they tell you?"

  "I see," said the Ethnologist, "that you know of your fame."

  The lieutenant rolled himself a cigarette. "I don't mind hearing aboutit once more. How does it stand at present?"

  "It's so confoundedly childish," said the Ethnologist, becomingirritated. "How did you play it off upon them?"

  The lieutenant made no answer, but lounged back in his folding-chair,still smiling.

  "Here am I, come four hundred miles out of my way to get what is leftof the folk-lore of these people, before they are utterly demoralisedby missionaries and the military, and all I find are a lot ofimpossible legends about a sandy-haired scrub of an infantrylieutenant. How he is invulnerable--how he can jump overelephants--how he can fly. That's the toughest nut. One old gentlemandescribed your wings, said they had black plumage and were not quiteas long as a mule. Said he often saw you by moonlight hovering overthe crests out towards the Shendu country.--Confound it, man!"

  The lieutenant laughed cheerfully. "Go on," he said. "Go on."

  The Ethnologist did. At last he wearied. "To trade so," he said, "onthese unsophisticated children of the mountains. How could you bringyourself to do it, man?"

  "I'm sorry," said the lieutenant, "but truly the thing was forced uponme. I can assure you I was driven to it. And at the time I had not thefaintest idea of how the Chin imagination would take it. Or curiosity.I can only plead it was an indiscretion and not malice that made mereplace the folk-lore by a new legend. But as you seem aggrieved, Iwill try and explain the business to you.

  "It was in the time of the last Lushai expedition but one, and Waltersthought these people you have been visiting were friendly. So, with anairy confidence in my capacity for taking care of myself, he sent meup the gorge--fourteen miles of it--with three of the Derbyshire menand half a dozen Sepoys, two mules, and his blessing, to see whatpopular feeling was like at that village you visited. A force often--not counting the mules--fourteen miles, and during a war! You sawthe road?"

  "_Road_!" said the Ethnologist.

  "It's better now than it was. When we went up we had to wade inthe river for a mile where the valley narrows, with a smart streamfrothing round our knees and the stones as slippery as ice. There itwas I dropped my rifle. Afterwards the Sappers blasted the cliff withdynamite and made the convenient way you came by. Then below, wherethose very high cliffs come, we had to keep on dodging across theriver--I should say we crossed it a dozen times in a couple of miles.

  "We got in sight of the place early the next morning. You know howit lies, on a spur halfway between the big hills, and as we began toappreciate how wickedly quiet the village lay under the sunlight, wecame to a stop to consider.

  "At that they fired a lump of filed brass idol at us, just by way of awelcome. It came twanging down the slope to the right of us where theboulders are, missed my shoulder by an inch or so, and plugged themule that carried all the provisions and utensils. I never heard sucha death-rattle before or since. And at that we became aware of anumber of gentlemen carrying matchlocks, and dressed in things likeplaid dusters, dodging about along the neck between the village andthe crest to the east.

  "'Right about face,' I said. 'Not too close together.'

  "And with that encouragement my expedition of ten men came round andset off at a smart trot down the valley again hitherward. We did notwait to save anything our dead had carried, but we kept the secondmule with us--he carried my tent and some other rubbish--out of afeeling of friendship.

  "So ended the battle--ingloriously. Glancing back, I saw the valleydotted with the victors, shouting and firing at us. But no one washit. These Chins and their guns are very little good except at asitting shot. They will sit and finick over a boulder for hours takingaim, and when they fire running it is chiefly for stage effect.Hooker, one of the Derbyshire men, fancied himself rather with therifle, and stopped behind for half a minute to try his luck as weturned the bend. But he got nothing.

  "I'm not a Xenophon to spin much of a yarn about my retreating army.We had to pull the enemy up twice in the next two miles when he becamea bit pressing, by exchanging shots with him, but it was a fairlymonotonous affair--hard breathing chiefly--until we got near the placewhere the hills run in towards the river and pinch the valley intoa gorge. And there we very luckily caught a glimpse of half a dozenround black heads coming slanting-ways over the hill to the left ofus--the east that is--and almost parallel with us.

  "At that I called a halt. 'Look here,' says I to Hooker and the otherEnglishmen; 'what are we to do now?' and I pointed to the heads.

  "'Headed orf, or I'm a nigger,' said one of the men.

  "'We shall be,' said another. 'You know the Chin way, George?'

  "'They can pot every one of us at fifty yards,' says Hooker, 'in theplace where the river is narrow. It's just suicide to go on down.'

  "I looked at the hill to the right of us. It grew steeper lower downthe valley, but it still seemed climbable. And all the Chins we hadseen hitherto had been on the other side of the stream.

  "'It's that or stopping,' says one of the Sepoys.

  "So we started slanting up the hill. There was something faintlysuggestive of a road running obliquely up the face of it, and that wefollowed. Some Chins presently came into view up the valley, and Iheard some shots. Then I saw one of the Sepoys was sitting downabout thirty yards below us. He had simply sat down without a word,apparently not wishing to give trouble. At that I called a halt again;I told Hooker to try another shot, and went back and found the man washit in the leg. I took him up, carried him along to put him on themule--already pretty well laden with the tent and other things whichwe had no time to take off. When I got up to the rest with him, Hookerhad his empty Martini in his hand, and was grinning and pointing to amotionless black spot up the valley. All the rest of the Chins werebehind boulders or back round the bend. 'Five hundred yards,' saysHooker, 'if an inch. And I'll swear I hit him in the head.'

  "I told him to go and do it again, and with that we went on again.

  "Now the hillside kept getting steeper as we pushed on, and the roadwe were following more and more of a shelf. At last it was mere cliffabove and below us. 'It's the best road I have seen yet in Chin Lushailand,' said I to encourage the men, though I had a fear of what wascoming.

  "And in a few minutes the way bent round a corner of the cliff. Then,finis! the ledge came to an end.

  "As soon as he grasped the position one of the Derbyshire men fella-swearing at the trap we had fallen into. The Sepoys halted quietly.Hooker grunted and reloaded, and went back to the bend.

  "Then two of the Sepoy chaps helped their comrade down and began tounload the mule.

  "Now, when I came to look about me, I began to think we had not beenso very unfortunate after all. We were on a shelf perhaps ten yardsacross it at widest. Above it the cliff projected so that we could notbe shot down upon, and below was an almost sheer precipice of perhapstwo or three hundred feet. Lying down we were invisible to anyoneacross the ravine. The only approach was along the ledge, and on thatone man was as good as a host. We were in a natural stronghold, withonly one disadvantage, our sole provision against hunger and thirstwas one live mule. Still we were at most eight or nine miles from themain expedition, and no doubt, after a day or so, they would send upafter us if we did not return.

  "After a day or so ..."

  The lieutenant paused. "Ever been thirsty, Graham?"

  "Not that kind," said the Ethnologist.

  "H'm. We had the whole of that day, the night, and the next da
y of it,and only a trifle of dew we wrung out of our clothes and the tent.And below us was the river going giggle, giggle, round a rock in midstream. I never knew such a barrenness of incident, or such a quantityof sensation. The sun might have had Joshua's command still upon itfor all the motion one could see; and it blazed like a near furnace.Towards the evening of the first day one of the Derbyshire men saidsomething--nobody heard what--and went off round the bend of thecliff. We heard shots, and when Hooker looked round the corner he wasgone. And in the morning the Sepoy whose leg was shot was in delirium,and jumped or fell over the cliff. Then we took the mule and shotit, and that must needs go over the cliff too in its last struggles,leaving eight of us.

  "We could see the body of the Sepoy down below, with the head in thewater. He was lying face downwards, and so far as I could make out wasscarcely smashed at all. Badly as the Chins might covet his head, theyhad the sense to leave it alone until the darkness came.

  "At first we talked of all the chances there were of the main bodyhearing the firing, and reckoned whether they would begin to miss us,and all that kind of thing, but we dried up as the evening came on.The Sepoys played games with bits of stone among themselves, andafterwards told stories. The night was rather chilly. The second daynobody spoke. Our lips were black and our throats afire, and we layabout on the ledge and glared at one another. Perhaps it's as wellwe kept our thoughts to ourselves. One of the British soldiers beganwriting some blasphemous rot on the rock with a bit of pipeclay, abouthis last dying will, until I stopped it. As I looked over the edgedown into the valley and saw the river rippling I was nearly temptedto go after the Sepoy. It seemed a pleasant and desirable thing togo rushing down through the air with something to drink--or no morethirst at any rate--at the bottom. I remembered in time, though, thatI was the officer in command, and my duty to set a good example, andthat kept me from any such foolishness.

  "Yet, thinking of that, put an idea into my head. I got up and lookedat the tent and tent ropes, and wondered why I had not thought of itbefore. Then I came and peered over the cliff again. This time theheight seemed greater and the pose of the Sepoy rather more painful.But it was that or nothing. And to cut it short, I parachuted.

  "I got a big circle of canvas out of the tent, about three times thesize of that table-cover, and plugged the hole in the centre, and Itied eight ropes round it to meet in the middle and make a parachute.The other chaps lay about and watched me as though they thought it wasa new kind of delirium. Then I explained my notion to the two Britishsoldiers and how I meant to do it, and as soon as the short dusk haddarkened into night, I risked it. They held the thing high up, and Itook a run the whole length of the ledge. The thing filled with airlike a sail, but at the edge I will confess I funked and pulled up.

  "As soon as I stopped I was ashamed of myself--as well I might be infront of privates--and went back and started again. Off I jumped thistime--with a kind of sob, I remember--clean into the air, with the bigwhite sail bellying out above me.

  "I must have thought at a frightful pace. It seemed a long time beforeI was sure that the thing meant to keep steady. At first it heeledsideways. Then I noticed the face of the rock which seemed to bestreaming up past me, and me motionless. Then I looked down and saw inthe darkness the river and the dead Sepoy rushing up towards me. Butin the indistinct light I also saw three Chins, seemingly aghast atthe sight of me, and that the Sepoy was decapitated. At that I wantedto go back again.

  "Then my boot was in the mouth of one, and in a moment he and I werein a heap with the canvas fluttering down on the top of us. I fancy Idashed out his brains with my foot. I expected nothing more than to bebrained myself by the other two, but the poor heathen had never heardof Baldwin, and incontinently bolted.

  "I struggled out of the tangle of dead Chin and canvas, and lookedround. About ten paces off lay the head of the Sepoy staring in themoonlight. Then I saw the water and went and drank. There wasn't asound in the world but the footsteps of the departing Chins, a faintshout from above, and the gluck of the water. So soon as I had drunkmy full I started off down the river.

  "That about ends the explanation of the flying man story. I never meta soul the whole eight miles of the way. I got to Walters' camp by teno'clock, and a born idiot of a sentinel had the cheek to fire at meas I came trotting out of the darkness. So soon as I had hammered mystory into Winter's thick skull, about fifty men started up the valleyto clear the Chins out and get our men down. But for my own part I hadtoo good a thirst to provoke it by going with them.

  "You have heard what kind of a yarn the Chins made of it. Wings aslong as a mule, eh?--And black feathers! The gay lieutenant bird!Well, well."

  The lieutenant meditated cheerfully for a moment. Then he added, "Youwould scarcely credit it, but when they got to the ridge at last, theyfound two more of the Sepoys had jumped over."

  "The rest were all right?" asked the Ethnologist.

  "Yes," said the lieutenant; "the rest were all right, barring acertain thirst, you know."

  And at the memory he helped himself to soda and whisky again.