The track, as far as he could see it, was almost choked with men and animals. The men scattered as well as they could when they saw the aeroplane; some shots were fired at it, harmlessly. It was impossible for Lawrence to guess the magnitude of the reinforcement that was being pushed forward; but it seemed to him that several regiments must have been sent on from the main army. The bodies of mounted men were separated by long convoys of provisions and ammunition, carried on the backs of mules and camels. It almost appeared as if a regular advance of the whole force had begun. The Kalmuck general was clearly confident of his power to break the resistance of the little band that had hitherto withstood his passage.
Lawrence flew as far as the bridge; it seemed useless to go farther. He had seen what he had expected to see: a vast and overwhelming force. But he had obtained no definite clue to the meaning of the captive officer’s vague hint of a master stroke. That the enemy had a crushing superiority in numbers he had known all along: there was nothing to indicate that they had anything more than the advantage of numbers still. The presence of their general might act as a stimulus; but the nature of the position precluded any marked change in their mode of operations. It was essentially a position that could be won only by dogged, unfaltering determination: the issue depended on the fighting man, not on the tactician.
Perhaps if Lawrence had continued his flight to the plain on which the main army was encamped, he or Fazl might have noticed one slight change since his former visit in Major Endicott’s company. A field telegraph had been laid down, stretching away to the north. This might well have escaped his observation from the great altitude to which he must of necessity have risen. Even if he had seen it, probably it would have suggested nothing more than one of the ordinary accompaniments of an army in the field. Yet that single wire was the clue to the Kalmuck’s cryptic warning.
On returning to the mine his report to Bob was necessarily disappointing. It was clear that everything still depended on blocking the enemy’s advance. If they could once establish themselves on the southern side of the bend, and bring their guns to bear directly on the compounds, a few hours’ bombardment would render the place untenable: it would be the beginning of the end. Against it the garrison were almost helpless. They had only ten rounds of ammunition for the captured field gun; and though the machine gun was in better case, not even the bravest of men--and Gur Buksh was that--could for long work his gun under the deadly fire of a whole park of artillery.