Question

(4) Read carefully the passage given below and answer the questions (a).(b)and (c) that
follow:
At eleven 'o'clock the worst happened- a tyre blew. It was a front tyre and I fought the wheel
as we jotted to a stop. 'Let's make this fast,' I said, and grab the wheel brace.
If we had to have a puncture it was not a bad place to have it. The footing was level enough
to take the jack without slipping and there was no mud at that point. I jacked up the front of
the land Rover and got busy on the wheel with the brace. I took the wheel off, rolled it away
and replaced it with the spare. The whole operation took a little under ten minutes, time we
couldn't afford- not there and then.
Once we were farther south we could close ourselves on a more-or-less complex
road network but these wilderness tracks were too restricted for my liking.
I tightened the last wheel nut and then looked to see what had caused a blowout and
to put the wheel back into its rack what I saw made my blood run cold. I fingered the jagged
hole in the thick tyre and looked up at the high ridge which dominated the track.
There was only one thing that could make a hole thing like that a - bullet. And
somewhere up on the ridge, hidden in some crevice, was a sniper- and even then I was
probably in his sights.
How did Kennikin get a head of me? that was my first bitter thought. But idle
thoughts were of no use and actions was necessary. I heaved up the wheel with its ruined tyre
to the bonnet and screwed it down securely. While I rotated the wheel brace I glanced
covertly at the ridge. There was a lot of open ground before the ridge heaved itself into the
air- at least two hundred yards- and the closet a sniper could have been possibly four
hundred yards and probably more.
Any man who could put a bullet into a tyre at over four hundred yards- a quarter
mile- was surely a good shot. So good that he could put a bullet into me any time he liked -
so why hadn't he? I was in plain view a perfect target and yet no bullets had come my way. I
tightened down the last nut and turned my back to the ridge and felt a prickling feeling
between my shoulder blades - that was where the bullet would hit me if it came.
I jumped to the ground and put away the brace and jack, concentrating on doing, the
natural thing. The palms of my hands were slippery with sweat. I went to the back of the land
Rover and climbed in and sat down. Sitting in that confined space gave a comforting illusion
of protection but that's all it was- an illusion. For the second time I wished the land- Rover
had without being too obvious about it and I made the most of the opportunity.
Nothing moved among those red and gray rocks. Nobody stood up and waved or
cheered, if anyone was still up there he was keeping as quiet as a mouse which of course,
was the correct thing to do. If you pump a bullet at someone you'd better scrunch yourself
up small in case he starts shooting back,
But- was anybody still up there? I rather thought there was. Who in his right mind
would shoot a hole in the tyre of a car and then just walk away? So he was still up there,​

Answer 1

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