He was sobbing for air as he stumbled through the trees and scrambled up the little slope to the road. He slipped and fell to one knee. As he stood up and made to cross, he heard voices through the falling snow.
At least a dozen soldiers were running towards him, but these weren't mounted, they were on foot and wore normal quilted uniforms. And then he saw Cheung in his long greatcoat with the fur collar, mouth open in a soundless cry.
Drummond emptied the magazine in one continuous, clumsy burst that ripped up the surface of the road for twenty yards in front of the Chinese, ran across and started to scramble up the hillside.
He heard the roars of the men behind as they followed then a cry of alarm echoed by an explosion. A few seconds later, there was another. He kept on moving and fell oa his face.
Hands dragged him to his feet and Hamid said, 'A good thing I had those grenades.'
Drummond leaned against him, feet splayed and fought for breath. The lot I ran into just now,' he said. 'Not soldiers from the village. Cheung and his men. They must have followed on foot from the bridge. Isn't the bastard ever going to give up?'
'I shouldn't imagine so,' Hamid slapped him on the shoulder. 'We'd better get moving. He'll need horses if he's going to follow and that means going to the village. It'll take time.' He grinned savagely. 'With any luck, one of my grenades may have finished him off. He could be lying down there in his own blood right now.'
And then the wind tore a hole in the curtain, and for a moment they saw the road below, the bodies sprawled in the snow, the living moving amongst them and one man who stood quite still, staring up at the mountain, the fur collar of his greatcoat framing the pale face.
'No such luck,' Drummond said with a shudder.
As the curtain swept back into place, he turned and followed Hamid upwards into the driving snow.
On the road, the carnage was absolute as Cheung turned to examine the dead and the dying. Only Sergeant Ng and three men were left on their feet, and then one of the soldiers from the village limped out of the wood clutching a bloody arm, his sheepskin wet with snow.
Cheung went to meet him, the sergeant at his side..You are from Chamdo, the next village?'
.Yes, Colonel.
'How did you get there?'
'By boat from Huma. Two patrols crossed straight over, we came down river.'
'And there are horses there?.
'As many as you need, ColoneL.
Cheung took out his map and examined it quickly, the sergeant peering over his shoulder. He traced a finger along the track leading from Chamdo up over the mountain to Ladong Gompa.
'So that's where they're going,' he said softly and turned to the sergeant 'A Tibetan name.'
'A monastery, from the sound of it, Colonel,. the sergeant said.
Cheung folded the map and turned to the wounded soldier from Chamdo. 'How far is the village from here?'
'Five miles, Colonel.'
Then we've no time to waste.' He nodded to the sergeant. 'We'll march there as quickly as possible and get horses.'
'And the wounded, Colonel?'
'Leave them. We'll send someone from the village.'
He pulled up his collar and started to walk along the iron hard road into the falling snow.
The Mountain of God
THE snow was a living thing through which they stumbled blindly. Death and the valley had slipped far away and they were alone with man's oldest enemy -the elements.
The hillside was rough, strewn with boulders, and the carpet of snow made the going difficult and unsure. At one point, Father Kerrigan's mount plunged to its knees and Hamid grabbed its bridle, pulling it up again by brute strength.
Janet reined in and Drummond moved up beside her. She was covered in snow and her cheeks were flushed as she smiled down at him.
'How are you doing?.
'Fine and so is Kerim.'
The boy was so swathed in blankets that only his single eye showed, but it sparkled suddenly and Drum. raond knew that he had smiled.
These horses are used to this kind of country,. Hamid said. 'Let them choose their own way. They know what they're doing.'
'Do you think we'll find the track?. Drummond said.
'I don't see why not If we keep climbing on a diagonal line to the east, I can't see how we could miss it'
They started again, Hamid leading followed by Father Kerrigan, Drummond bringing up the rear.
The slope steepened as they moved higher and the fuH blast of the snow, driven by the wind, hit them as they came out on to the bare mountainside.
At one point half-way up a shelving bank, Janet's horse started to slide. Drummond scrambled forward beating it hard across the rump with his clenched fist and it plunged forward.
It was the snow that showed them the track, the shape of it clear under the white carpet, zig-zagging up the steep slope beneath them and turning into a narrow ravine about a hundred yards to the right.
When they moved into the ravine, they were sheltered from the wind for a while and climbed upwards, the clatter of hooves against the hard ground echoing between the walls. Gradually, the slope steepened, the walls of the ravine fading into the ground and they came out on the bare mountainside again.
As they climbed, the mountain seemed to rise more steeply, and after another hour they went over the rim of an escarpment and looked across a narrow plateau to where the rock face tilted backwards in great, overlapping slabs, most of which were split and fissured into a thousand cracks.
They moved on, heads down against the driving snow, and after another hour Hamid grabbed the bridle of Father Kerrigan's horse and led it into the shelter of some boulders.
"We'll rest for a while,' he said.
Janet handed Kerim down to Drummond and slipped from the saddle. She wiped the snow from her face and smiled wanly. It's cold.'
Too damned cold,' Drummond said.
Father Kerrigan walked forward stiffly, slapping his arms to restore the circulation. Td better have a look at Kerim.'
. Drummond crouched down in the shelter of the boulders and Father Kerrigan knelt beside him and gently parted the blankets. 'God bless my soul, but the child's sleeping.'
'Is he all right?' Janet said anxiously. 'He's warm enough, isn't he?'
'Warmer than any of us in that cocoon.' The old man sat down against the rocks. 'Did you bring the contents of my medical bag?'
Janet nodded and slipped her arms through the straps of the military haversack she'd been carrying on her back. She opened it and took out the Thermos flask of tea she had prepared at breakfast
.What was it you wanted?'
"Never mind, I'll find it for myself.'
The old priest looked grey and haggard and the lines in his face scoured deep into the flesh. He searched through the contents of the haversack and found what he was looking for, a small bottle of red capsules. He slipped a couple into his mouth and Janet passed him tea in the one tin mug that she had brought
Father Kerrigan took a mouthful down and leaned back with a sigh. Hamid said anxiously, 'Are you all right, Father?'
The old man opened his eyes and grinned. 'Let's just say I'm not as young as I was, but the pills Tve taken start acting straight away. I'll make it The luck of the Irish.'
The mug came round in turn and when it reached Drummond, he swallowed the hot tea gratefully. Hamid produced a couple of cheroots from one of his breast pockets and they lit them and moved away from the others, looking back down the track into the snow.
The old man doesn't look too good,' Drummond said. 'How long till we reach the monastery?'
'Maybe three hours,' Hamid said. 'It afl depends on the state of the track.'
Tve been thinking,' Drummond said..What guarantee have we got that there will be anyone there when we do reach the place? It could have fallen into disuse years ago. There are ruined monasteries all over the mountains, you know that as well as I do.'
'At least we'll find some sort of shelter,' Hamid said. 'And that's something we're going to need just as soon as we can find it. It's no use pretending the old man or Janet and the child, for that matter, can stand much of this sort of thing.'
They moved back to the others and Father Kerrigan got to his feet. Whatever he had taken had certainly had a miraculous effect and he smiled, cheeks slightly flushed.
Tm ready when you are.'
Hamid helped him into the saddle, Drummond passed the boy up to Janet and they moved on, skirting the base of the great face of rock slabs.
Over the years, the track had been marked by pilgrims placing their stones on conical cairns which marked quarter-mile intervals and these were still clearly visible in the snow.
An hour later, the track turned into a narrow ravine that slanted up into the rock. It was choked with boulders and loose stones, an indication of years of neglect.
Hamid took the lead, holding Father Kerrigan's horse by the bridle and Drummond did the same for Janet. He was soon tired and his arm ached with the strain of holding in the unwilling horse. He constantly slipped on the snow, sending loose stones rattling through the maze of boulders below.
Once or twice when they paused, he looked up at
Janet and was shocked at the weariness in her eyes. Somehow she managed to smile and he smiled back.
Half an hour later they emerged from the ravine on to a ledge perhaps forty feet across that slanted upwards to the left, jutting out from the cliff face.
Hamid turned, still holding on to the bridle of the old man's horse. 'Everyone all right?'
Drummond glanced up at Janet and she nodded. 'Fine. Keep going.'
The ledge lifted steeply, following the curve of the wall and a sea of swirling snow cloaked the valley below. Drummond followed Hamid and Father Kerrigan, holding the horse as close in to the wall as possible.
And then the ledge narrowed until there hardly seemed room for man and animal together. He pushed forward frantically and came out on the edge of a great plateau.
Beyond them, the ultimate peaks of the mountains stabbed into the sky and great sterile valleys ran between, cutting their way through to the other side.
'The main plateau,' Hamid shouted above the wind. "The monastery can't be very far away. We'll keep on going.'
It was cold at that height, very cold. No more snow fell, but the wind blew harder and harder until it cut through their clothing, whipping their bruised bodies with cold fingers and the child started to cry.
Janet held him close in her arms and Drummond took the reins of the horse, pulling it forward and then they moved over the crest of a small hill and paused.
Below them was a great natural arena into which many valleys spilled, and squarely in the entrance of one of them stood the monastery of Ladong Gompa. Hamid urged Father Kerrigan's mount forward with a savage cry and Drummond went after him.
The monastery walls had been painted red, green and black to signify the nature of the order, but the colours had faded with the years. It was of no great size and had a bleak, deserted look about it. There was no encircling outer wall, a usual feature of larger establishments, and the entrance was at the top of several steps, protected against the weather by a stone porch.
Snow had drifted in an unbroken line across the steps and a chain hung through a hole high in the wall, jingling faintly as it swung in the wind. When Hamid pulled hard on it, a bell rang hollowly somewhere inside and they waited as its brazen sound died.
After a while, they heard a rattle of wooden clogs on stone and a metallic rasping as bolts were withdrawn. The door swung back to reveal a Buddhist monk in faded yellow robes. He showed no particular surprise and came forward at once to give his hand to Father Kerrigan as the old man stumbled up the steps. Drum-mond held Kerim until Janet had dismounted, then handed him to her and she followed Father Kerrigan.
Another monk, a younger man, came down the steps and Hamid said, 'What about the horses?'
Like the other one, the young man did not speak, but motioned them to follow him and when he tucked his robe into his girdle so that it didn't trail in the snow, Drummond saw that his feet were bare.
There was an enclosed courtyard at the rear. They waited at the gate and after a while it was opened from inside and they moved in. There were the usual stables and a young novice took the horses from them and they followed the other monk into the monastery.
They walked along a narrow, stone-flagged corridor and entered a large, poorly-furnished room at the far end with a fire of logs burning on a large stone hearth.
