Probably his own
message had never gone, and he could only pray that the men there might
by the grace of God have eyes in their heads to read the signs of the
times. There was a brief word from Jackson at Boonji. There attacks
had been made on the terminus and the engine-sheds since sunset, which
his men had luckily had time to repulse. A large amount of
rolling-stock was lying there, as five freight trains had brought up
material for the new bridge the day before. Of this the enemy had
probably had word. Anyhow, he hoped to quiet all local disturbances,
and he would undertake to see that every station on the line was warned.
He would receive reinforcements from Abbotabad by the afternoon of the
next day; if Bardur and Gilgit, or Yasin as it might be, could delay the
attack till then everything might be safe--unless, indeed, the whole
nexus of hill-tribes rose as one man. In which case there would be the
devil to pay, and he had no advice to give.
Thwaite read and laughed grimly. It was not a question of a day's
delay, but of an hour's, and the hill-tribes, if he judged Marker's
cleverness rightly, would act just as Jackson feared. The business had
begun among the navvies at Bardur and Gilgit and Boonji. In a little
they would have news of real tribal war--Hunzas, Pathans, Chitralis,
Punialis, and Chils, tribes whom England had fought a dozen times before
and knew the mettle of; now would be the time for their innings.
Pages:
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343