About mid-morning the rain ceased, the fog rose, and was soon scattered by a powerful sun. The beautiful country, fresh and green, reappeared. It was the fair land of France again and John rejoiced. His uniform dried fast upon him, and his spirits rose steadily. He saw the ruddy glow return to the cheeks of his comrades, and the horses seemed to grow stronger. The sky, washed by the rain, was a solid blue, and the air was crisp with the wine of life. "It's good to breathe and live!" exclaimed Wharton joyously. "You Yankees talk too much," said Carstairs. "And you English talk at the wrong time." "Generally we let our deeds talk for us." "Then you don't say much." John laughed. The pleasant way in which they quarreled always amused him. "I promised not to take the side of either of you at any time," he said. "You seem to be about evenly matched, and of course it wouldn't be fair for me in such a case to help my countryman." "Two to one against us are about the odds we English like," said Carstairs. "Boaster," said Wharton. "Position and army equal we could always whip you, man for man." "Boaster yourself. Whenever we didn't whip you you'd always say that the position and arms were not equal." "Stop long enough to look at those birds in the heavens," said John. "Yes I see them," said Carstairs. "There are four but they're flying very high." "No, they're five," said Wharton. "There's one on the left detached from the others." "You're both wrong," said John, smiling from the depths of his superior knowledge. "They're not birds at all." "Then what under the sun can they be?" "Aeroplanes. Flying machines." "Well you ought to know your kind of carriage. You've been up in one of them. Whose are they, I wonder?" "I can't tell, they're so high, but I'd judge from the shape that they're the German Taubes." Carstairs and Wharton looked grave. "They're far over French territory," said Carstairs. "So they are," said John, "but you're likely to see them much farther." "I should think that if they went on they'd meet the French flyers," said Wharton, "and then there'd be some lively scenes up in the shining blue." "They're ready to take the risks," said John. "I believe the Germans are willing to dare anything in this war. They think the world is against them and has resolved to crush them because the other nations are jealous. Their men higher up, the princes and the big military leaders have made them think so, and nothing on earth can ever shake them in the belief." "You're probably right," said Wharton, "but our German birds seem to be gathering for something. Look how close together they hover now." "And they're almost directly over our heads!" said John, a thrill of alarm shooting through him. "And see they're dropping down fast!" "Which means?" "Which means that they've seen us, that they've noted our French uniforms through powerful glasses, and that they're getting ready to swoop." "Let 'em come!" said Wharton defiantly. "I never thought to take part in this kind of dove hunting, but if the Taubes will attack they must take the consequences." He eased his rifle across his saddle bow. All three of them carried the modern, high-powered rifle which could kill at a tremendous range. Neither Wharton nor Carstairs yet felt any apprehension, but John knew better. "Those are armored machines," he said, "and unless our bullets are very lucky indeed they'll glance off their steel sides." "Armored flying machines!" exclaimed Carstairs. "I never heard of such things!" "No, but you're hearing now. These Germans will teach you a lot! Why they even have Taubes that carry light machine guns." "What ought we to do?" John by reason of his brief experience in the air had suddenly become the leader, and the others recognized it. "We must leave the road and make for those trees. They'll give us some protection!" He pointed to a little grove two hundred yards away. The three sent their horses crashing through the hedge and galloped for it. Overhead the aeroplanes swooped lower and lower, like gigantic birds, darting at their prey. It was John who came nearest to a full realization of their danger. His experience with Lannes had shown him the power of the flying machines and the skill and daring of the flying men. In the brief gallop toward the wood a succession of terrifying emotions flowed through his mind. He remembered reading in some old book of primeval man and his constant menace from vast reptilian monsters clad in huge scales, as thick and hard as steel. It had never made much impression upon him. It was too far away and vague, but now it all came back with amazing detail and vividness. He and his comrades were primeval men, and these swooping planes, shod with steel, were the ancient monsters seeking their prey. The air too was filled then with gigantic birds, enormous of beak and claw, from which man could find refuge only in caves or thick, tangled woods, and just such birds were seeking them now. But two hundred yards to the grove and yet it seemed two miles! His powerful imagination could already hear over his head the rush of the aeroplanes, like the swoop of monster wings, and he felt himself bending low in the saddle, lest his head be struck by an iron beak. A rifle cracked in the air, and a bullet struck the ground between two of the horses. Then came a sinister burr-r-r and shots rained near them. It was a machine gun in one of the aeroplanes, flying so low now that the angle at which it was fired was not acute. John was brave and his will was so strong that it had great control over his sensitive and imaginative mind. Yet he was never in his life more terrified. That vivid picture of primeval man fleeing with all his might from monsters of the air, grew more vivid every moment. He was fairly drenched in terror, as his dim ancestor must have been in like case, nor was he ashamed of it. He had one look each at his comrades, and their faces were ghastly white. He knew that his emotions were theirs too. The bullets flew thicker, but aim is uncertain, when one is flying from a moving machine in the air, at speeding targets, and most of the bullets flew wide. Carstairs was grazed on the shoulder, and Wharton's horse was touched lightly on the flank, but gasping, both horses and riders, they plunged into the wood, reckless alike of trees and undergrowth, desperately seeking safety from the winged terrors that pursued them. It was fortunate for the three fugitives that it was not the ordinary European wood, trimmed and pruned like a park. It was heavy with foliage, and there was much undergrowth, in which the horse of Carstairs tripped and fell, throwing him. But he did not begrudge that, as the vines and bushes not only broke his fall, but meant safety. "Since you're down Carstairs," said Wharton, "it's the duty of a comrade to join you." He sprang off his own horse and stood, rifle in hand, among the bushes. John also dismounted, although in more leisurely fashion. His heart had ceased to beat so heavily when they entered the wood. The immediate anger of being snapped up by those giants of the air passed and the revulsion of feeling came. His pulses were still drumming in his ears, but he heard a louder throbbing above the trees. The angry and disappointed monsters were hovering there, still seeking their prey. Bullets pattered on the leaves and twigs, but they went wide. The three horses shivered in terror, and the one that had been touched on the flank uttered a shrill neigh of distress. John took the lead. "The undergrowth is thicker on our right," he said. "We must take our horse into it. They won't be able to get more than glimpses of us there." "Right!" said Carstairs, "I think I can walk that far now. The strength is coming back into my knees, and I don't think they'll double under me. I don't mind telling you fellows that I was never before in my life so scared." "Your confession is mine too," said Wharton. They reached the new refuge without harm, although more shots were fired from the planes. The density of the bushes there was due to a small stream flowing through the wood, and while the horses were still exposed, in a measure, they found almost complete cover for themselves. The three lay down in the thicket and pointed upward the muzzles of their rifles. The throbbing and droning over their heads had never ceased, and through the leaves they saw the armored planes hovering about not far above the tops of the trees. But the fugitives in their screen of leaf and thicket had become invisible. "We'll have to chance it with our horses," whispered Wharton, "but for ourselves we may be able to give back as good as we send. Scott, are you a sharpshooter?" "I'm a pretty good marksman, and I think I could hit one of those things if it should slow down." "I suggest," said Carstairs, "that when one of us fires he immediately move away at least six or eight yards. Then they won't be able to locate us by the shots." "Good for you old Britisher," said Wharton, "you do have moments of intelligence." "Wharton, I'd like to say as much for you." Both laughed but the laugh was uneasy and unnatural. It was merely the force of habit, compelling them to seek some sort of relief through words. The planes had come together in a group for a few moments, but afterward they made a wide separation and flew about swiftly in irregular circles. John knew that it was meant to disturb the aim of those below, because the flying men had certainly seen that they carried rifles. John crouched under a bush, and with the muzzle of his high-powered rifle turned upward, continually sought a target through the leaves. In those moments of danger and fierce anger he did not have left a single scruple against taking the life of man. They had hunted him remorselessly in a strange and terrific way. His first illusion that they were gigantic birds of prey remained, and he would be doing a service to the world, if he slew them. A rifle cracked almost in his ear and Wharton uttered a little cry of disappointment. "I heard the bullet thud on the metal side of that Taube," he said. "It isn't fair fighting us this way." Then he and John, following the suggestion of Carstairs, promptly moved to another point in the bushes. Three bullets from the Taubes struck near the place they had just left. But John still watching had caught sight of a head and body, the two hands grasping a rifle projecting over the side of a Taube. Quick as a flash he fired, and with an aim that was literally as sure as death. The man in the Taube heaved up, as if wrenched by an electric shock, then plunged head-foremost over the side and fell clear, his rifle dropping before him. John caught a swift vision of a falling figure sprawled out hideously, and then he heard the rending crash of twigs and branches followed by a heavy thump. His heart thrilled with horror. Those were human beings after all, up there in the air, and not primeval birds of prey. "That one!" said Wharton. "Good shot, Scott!" John's horror passed. He was still fighting for his life, and it was the men in the air who had attacked. He moved away again and by chance he came to the tiny brook, on which the bushes were strung like a thread. Lying flat on his face he drank, and he was astonished to find that he was so thirsty. Rising to his knees he glanced at his comrades and at the hovering aeroplanes. They had flown high out of the reach of bullets, and had drawn together as if for council. One of the horses rearing and threshing with fright had been killed by shots from the aeroplanes, but John did not notice it, until this moment. The other two tethered by their bridles to bushes had tried to break loose, but had failed. Now they were trembling all over, and were covered with perspiration. John felt sorry for them. But the water had refreshed him wonderfully. He had not known before how hot and dry his throat had become. He invited his comrades to drink too, and they followed his example. Then they lay on their backs, and watched the council in the air. They could even hear the distant drumming of their motors. The machine, out of which John had shot the aviator, had carried two men, because there it was in the group with the others. John's old and powerful feeling that he was at the end of one era and at the beginning of another, involving many new forces, returned with increased strength. To be besieged by enemies overhead was one of them, and, for the present at least, he saw no way of escape from the grove. The sun was now in the zenith. The clouds, having gone away, made a clean sweep of it. There was not a fleck of dusk in the burning blue of the sky. The aeroplanes were outlined against it, as clearly as if they had been pictures in oil on canvas. The sun, great and golden, poured down fire, but it did not reach the three in the thicket. "I wish I knew what those fellows were planning," said Carstairs. "At least they give us a rest, while they arrange for our destruction." "But we're not destroyed yet, and you don't think it either, Carstairs," said Wharton. "Whatever I've said against you Britishers, I've never said you lacked courage." "And if you had said it I'd have known that you didn't mean it." Then the two shook hands in silence. Wharton closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep. "What are they doing, John?" he asked presently. "Still in council. A plane heavier than the others, evidently the one that has the machine gun is in the center. I judge therefore that it also carries the commander of the fleet." "Acute reasoning. Wake me up when they seem to be starting anything. Meanwhile I can't be bothered, because a few aeroplanes choose to use our heavens." He stretched himself, and breathed deeply and peacefully. But John knew well enough that he was not asleep. His rifle lay by his side, where it could be snatched up in a moment, and now and then his eyes opened to watch through the bushes the foe circling aloft. Carstairs also lay down bye and bye, but John remained sitting, the thick boughs of a bush covering him. "Something has happened," he announced after awhile. "One of the planes, the smallest, I think is flying away toward the east." The others sat up. The aeroplane, high in air, was going at tremendous speed. The others remained over the grove, swinging about lazily in circles, but too high for the rifles. "Now, Carstairs," said Wharton, "you English pretend to omniscience. So, tell us at once what that means." "If anybody had omniscience it would be we British of course, but I confess, Wharton, that this is beyond me. That aeroplane is certainly going fast. Now it's as big as my hand, now it's the size of an egg, now it's a dot and now it's gone." "Perhaps it's seeking help," said John. "I don't see why," said Wharton. "Enough are left to hold us in this grove. Their only difficulty is in getting at us. Even if they brought more the trees and the foliage would still be here to protect us." "That's true," admitted John. "Then it may have been damaged by some of our bullets." "But it left like a racer. I don't know how these machines are built, but I'd wager from the way it flew that not a wheel or spring or screw or rivet in it was damaged." "The others are evidently waiting for it to come back." "How do you make out that?" "Because they merely float about beyond our reach and don't try anything against us. The day's passing, and if they didn't have some plan dependent on the machine that left, they'd be at work now trying to shoot us up." Carstairs reached over and patted John on the head. "You talk sense, Scott," he said, "if it weren't for your accent you could pass for an Englishman." "Then I'll see that he never changes his accent," said Wharton. "I think I'll take a nap," said Carstairs, "and I really mean it. The grass and the bushes were heavy with rain when we came in here, although we didn't notice it, but the fine sun up there has dried everything now, and I've a good bed." He lay very comfortably, with his head on a mound of turf, but he did not close his eyes. The lids were lowered but nevertheless he watched the heavens. "Sorry for those poor horses of ours," he said. "One's killed and the other two, I suppose, will be scared to death before this thing's over." "And then we'll have to walk," said Wharton. "But we'll go on just the same." "We can buy new horses, at the next village. No more walking for mine than I can help." John was intently watching the eastern horizon. He was longing now for Lannes' powerful glasses. Nevertheless his eyesight was good, the best of the three, and presently the great pulse in his throat began to leap. But he did not say anything yet. He wanted to make sure. He waited a minute and then he said: "A black dot has reappeared in the eastern sky. It's so tiny you couldn't see it unless you swept your eyes around the circle until they met it." Carstairs sat up. "Where?" he asked. "Begin as I told you and sweep your eyes around the circle." "Ah, I see it now! Or maybe it's just a mote in the dancing sunbeams." "Oh no, it's not. Watch it grow. It's an aeroplane, and I'd wager everything against next to nothing that it's the one that left a little while ago. Whatever it went to do it's done." "Upon my soul, I think you're right. It is growing as you say. Now the dot becomes a black spot as big as an egg, now it grows to the size of your hand, and now the shape of a flying machine, coming at terrific speed, emerges. The whole process of departure is reversed." "And it's making straight for that overhanging group," said Wharton. John watched the big birds of prey await the messenger, and again he longed intently for Lannes' powerful glasses. The returning machine was received by the others which formed a circle about it, and for some minutes they hung there in close company. His nerves began to quiver again with excitement. He was sure that it was a menace. The small aeroplane would not have gone away on a mission without some excellent reason. Sure of his leafy covert he stood up, and watched the group which now circled almost exactly over their heads. Carstairs and Wharton stood beside him, and again they turned to him as the leader, now that it was an affair of the air. "What do you make of it?" asked Carstairs, anxiously. "It means harm, some new method of attack," said John, "but for the life of me I can't guess what it is." "Then we've merely got to wait," said Wharton. The three were standing close together, and a chill seemed to pass from one to another. That great danger threatened not one of the three doubted, and its mysterious character made it all the more formidable. The aeroplanes drew apart a little and again circled about lazily. John began to have a hope that nothing would happen after all, when suddenly he saw a flash in the thickets and heard a stunning roar. A piece of metal whistled past his head, and leaves and twigs fell in a shower. Acting partly from reason and partly from impulse he seized both Wharton and Carstairs and dragged them to the ground. "A bomb!" he cried. "I had forgotten about bombs, although I've seen them used before. They had none with them and the little aeroplane went back to a hangar somewhere for a supply! They'll drop more and we'll be safer lying down!" "You're right of course," said Wharton. "It's all as simple as day now. There goes the second!" Came another flash and roar, but this time the bomb fell farther away, and the metal fragments flew high over their heads. A third followed with the same result, and they began to feel encouraged. "Of course they have to drop them at random," said John, "and throwing down bombs from an aeroplane high in air is largely an affair of chance." "Still," said Wharton, "I feel as if I would like to burrow in the earth, not merely for a foot or two, but for at least a hundred feet, where the biggest bomb ever made by the Germans couldn't reach me." Carstairs uttered a cry of joy. "What can you find to be glad about in a situation like this?" asked Wharton. "I've been poking through the bushes and I find just beside us a deep gully." "A trench made and ready for us! Come, we'll be the boys in the trenches!" They passed through the bushes and dropped down in the gully which was in truth a great natural help to them. It was certain that in time a bomb would strike near, but unless it dropped directly on them they would be protected by their earthen walls from its flying fragments. And the odds were greatly against a bomb falling where they lay. The revulsion of feeling was so great that they became jovial. "You've never agreed with me more than once or twice, Carstairs," said Wharton, "but I don't think you'll dispute it, when I say this is a fine, friendly little ravine." "The finest I ever saw. I'm an expert in ravines. I made a specialty of 'em all through my boyhood, and I never saw another the equal of this." "Now, they're guessing badly," said John, as a bomb burst in the far edge of the grove, some distances away. "I wish we could find shelter for our horses," said Carstairs. "Those fellows in the air undoubtedly have glasses, and, not being able to see us, they may choose to demolish our remaining two beasts." "There goes one now!" exclaimed John, as another bomb burst and a shrill neigh of pain followed. A horse had been struck by two fragments, and wild with pain and terror it reared, struggled, finally broke its bridle, and galloped out into the fields, where it fell dead from loss of blood. "Poor beast," muttered Carstairs, "I've always loved horses, and I'd like to get a little revenge." "Maybe we can get it by waiting," said John, who was rapidly developing the qualities of leadership. "They can't possibly see us here in the gully which is lined thickly on either side with bushes." "And you think if we lie quiet," said Wharton, "that they'll come down lower to see what damage they've done." "That's my idea." "You do seem to have a good head on you for a Yankee," said Carstairs. They were silent a long time. Two more bombs were dropped but they did not strike near them. John heard the remaining horse straining at his bridle, and threshing among the bushes, but he did not succeed in breaking loose. He was very comfortable among some leaves in the gully, but he was on his back, and he did not cease to watch the aeroplanes, drifting lazily between him and the heavens. It was hard to judge distances in the air, but he had watched them so long and so closely that they seemed to him after a while to be flying lower. Patient as the Germans were, they must see sometime or other whether their bombs had destroyed the fugitives in the grove. "They're coming down toward the tops of the trees," he whispered. "Since they haven't heard from us for so long they've probably concluded that their bombs have finished us." "They'll soon find out better," said Carstairs savagely. "That last horse they killed was mine, and the poor brute was torn horribly by pieces of the bomb." John looked at him curiously. "War is war," he said. "I know it," replied Carstairs, "and that's why I shall be so particular to take good aim, when they drop within range. Confound it, I wish they didn't have those armored machines." "Still they're bound to expose themselves now and then," said John, "or they can't see us." They now knelt in the gully waiting for the Taubes, which were softly sinking lower and lower. All three were sharpshooters, and they had anger and the love of life to wing their aim. "Suppose we pick our men," said John. "The heavy plane near the center of the group is undoubtedly the one that carries the machine gun, and so it's our most dangerous antagonist. It's not likely to have more than two men—otherwise the weight would be too great—one to steer and one to handle the gun." "Excellent," said Carstairs. "You're undoubtedly the best marksman, Scott. Suppose when the machine tilts enough to give us aim you say: 'fire,' you taking the man at the rudder, while Wharton and I shoot at the one with the gun." "All right, if you say so." "Then it's agreed?" "Agreed it is." The muzzles of three rifles were now thrust through the bushes, ready to fire at an instant's notice. In those moments of intense excitement and with their own lives to save not one of the three had a single thought of mercy, Kindly in ordinary times war had taken complete possession of them for a space. John concluded that the Germans were now sure of their success. It had been quiet so long in the grove that the fugitives must be dead. Moreover the afternoon was waning, and night would help the defenders, if they still lived. But he never took his eyes from the big aeroplane, floating easily like a great bird on lazy wing. Lower and lower it dropped and it came within easy range of the high-powered rifles. Now it slanted over on its side, still like a huge bird and the two men it carried came into view. "Fire!" cried John, and there was one report as the three rifles cracked together. Never had bullets been sent with a more terrible aim. When the dead hand fell from the steering rudder the great machine turned quite over on its side. The two men and the machine gun were shot out, as if they had been hurled by a catapult, and crashed among the trees of the grove. The machine itself, still keeping its likeness to a huge bird, but wounded mortally, now fluttered about wildly for several minutes, and then fell with a tremendous crash among the trees. The other aeroplanes, obviously frightened by the fall of their leader, rapidly flew higher and out of range. The three did not exult at first. Instead they were appalled. "We certainly shot well!" said John at last. "Oh I don't care!" said Carstairs, shaking himself, defiantly. "They were after us, and we were bound to hit back!" A bomb exploded in the woods, but they were not hurt. It stirred them to wrath again, and all their compunctions were gone. Instead, they began to feel a pride in their great sharpshooting. "They've had enough of it for the present," said Wharton. "Look, the whole flock is mounting up and up, where our bullets can't reach 'em! Come down you rascals! Come down out of the sky and meet us face to face! We'll whip the whole lot of you!" He stood at his full height and shook his rifle at the aeroplanes. John and Carstairs shared his feelings so thoroughly that they saw nothing odd. "While they're so high," said John, "suppose we go and look at the fallen machine." They found it among some trees, a part of the frame imbedded in the earth. It looked in its destruction a sinister and misshapen monster. The machine gun, broken beyond repair, lay beside it. They knew that two other shattered objects were somewhere near in the bushes, but they would not look for them. "A great victory for the besieged," said Wharton, "but it leaves us still besieged." "However the aspect of the field of battle is changing," said John. "In what way?" "The twilight is coming and the sky is our foe's field of battle." The increase in their own chances became apparent at once. The obscurity of night would be like a blanket between them and the flying men, and its promise now was for speedy arrival. The glory of the sun had faded already in the east, and the sky was becoming gray toward the zenith. "If that flock expects to achieve anything against us," said John, "they must set about it pretty soon. In an hour they will have to come close to the ground to see us, and I fancy we can then leave the grove." "Yes," said Wharton, "it's up to them now. We can stand here waiting for them until the darkness comes. Now, they've begun to act!" A bomb burst, but the obscuring twilight was so deceptive that it fell entirely outside the wood and exploded harmless in a field. "Poor work," said Carstairs. "As I told you it's exceedingly hard to be accurate, dropping bombs from a height," said John, "and the twilight makes it much more so." Nevertheless the aeroplanes made a desperate trial, throwing at least a half dozen more bombs, some of which fell in the wood, but not near the three defenders, although the last horse fell a victim, being fairly blown to pieces. Meanwhile the sun sank behind the earth's rim, and, to the great joy of the three, clouds again rolled along the horizon, showing that they would have a dark night, a vital fact to them. In their eagerness to strike while it was yet time the aeroplanes hovered very low, almost brushing the tops of the trees, exposing themselves to the fire of the three who after spending eighteen or twenty cartridges on them moved quickly to another part of the wood, lest an answering bomb should find them. They did not know whether they had slain any one, but two of the planes flew away in slanting and jerky fashion like birds on crippled wings. The others remained over the grove, but rose to a much greater height. "That was the last attack and we repelled it," said Carstairs, feeling the flush of victory. "Here is the night black and welcome." The aeroplanes were now almost invisible. The darkness was thickening so fast that in the grove the three were compelled to remain close together, lest they lose one another. Under the western horizon low thunder muttered, and there was promise of more rain, but they did not care. They resolved to leave the grove in a half hour, and now they felt deeply the death of their horses. But all three carried gold, and they would buy fresh mounts at the next village. Their regret at the loss was overcome by the feeling that they had been victorious in the encounter with the aeroplanes when at first the odds seemed all against them. They waited patiently, while the night advanced, noting with pleasure that the mutter of thunder on the western horizon continued. Overhead two aeroplanes were circling, but they were barely visible in the dusk, and rescuing their blankets and some other articles that the horses had carried, the three, with their rifles ready, walked cautiously across the fields. A hundred yards from the grove, and they looked up. The aeroplanes were still circling there. Wharton laughed. "They probably think we haven't the nerve to leave the shelter of the trees," he said. "Let 'em watch till morning." "And then they'll find that the birds have metaphorically but not literally flown away," said Carstairs, a tone of exultation showing in his voice also. "In this battle between the forces of the air and the forces of the earth the good old solid earth has won." "But it may not always win," said John. "When I was up with Lannes, I saw what the aeroplane could do, and we are bound to admit that if it hadn't been for the grove they'd have got us." "Right-o!" said Carstairs. "True as Gospel," said Wharton. "Do you know where the road is?" asked John. "Now that our horses are gone we've got to do some good walking." "Here it is," said Carstairs. "Seven miles farther on is the little hamlet of Courville, where we can buy horses." "Then walk, you terriers, walk!" said Wharton. The three bending their heads walked side by side toward the hamlet of Courville, which they were destined never to reach. |