The shout of the lookout on Columbus’ ship when he first sighted the New World created no greater excitement than did Ned’s words among the boys on the Ocean Flyer. Each and every one of them rushed to the port windows with binoculars through which to scan the view more closely.

The scene was, however, most disappointing. As far as the eye could reach below stretched an expanse of sparsely-wooded uninviting plain, with white patches of snow still showing upon it. Far off to the southwest the peaks of a mighty range of rugged mountains loomed hazily. Not a bird flew in the sky; not a human habitation was to be seen. Away to the northwest a narrow ribbon of something gray was twisting slowly across the country. Little points of light flickered above it where the sunbeams struck.

“What is that?” asked Alan, pointing out the snake-like thing. “Is it a river?”

“No, I don’t think so,” answered Buck. “Ned, let’s get nearer to that thing and see just what it is.”

Accordingly the course of the Flyer was altered and, flying at an elevation of about 1,100 feet above the ground, she rapidly drew near the mysterious object.

Closer approach gave the boys a genuine surprise. The “snake” proved to be five battalions of soldiery on the march—infantry, cavalry and artillery. There seemed to be thousands and thousands of them—more men than any of the boys had ever seen gathered together before. The uniforms were of a dark blue. Some of the regiments wore little round caps of the same color, set rakishly on one side of their heads; others wore huge flat fur or wool hats. Most of the soldiers seemed to be unusually large and rough looking. The majority of them were bearded.

“Russians!” exclaimed Bob. “See those flags! Russians on the way to reinforce either the army invading Austria or their comrades fighting the Germans in East Prussia is what they are!”

The appearance of the big airship caused the greatest confusion in the ranks. The cavalry galloped wildly this way and that; infantrymen broke their regular marching formation to scatter and fire their guns futilely at it; the cannon were hurriedly unlimbered and efforts made to elevate their muzzles which would bring the Flyer within range.

The young aeronauts could not help laughing at the disorder their approach caused, and agreed with Ned that it was better not to get too close to the Russians. So the airship was raised to a greater altitude and took a southwesterly course.

“Why this particular direction?” queried Alan. “We have no idea where we are except that it is Russian territory, which may mean Siberia or Lapland.”

“Well,” said Ned, “we want to get back to the seat of war, and it’s a pretty safe bet that those Russians are bound for there by the shortest possible route. They are headed in a southwesterly direction, so it stands to reason that if we follow the same course, we’ll arrive somewhere near their destination.”

This was a logical deduction, so the Flyer was held to that position, and all sight of the army was soon lost in their rear.

For perhaps three hours the character of the underlying landscape remained the same as when it first was sighted. After that it gradually began to vary, assuming a more rolling aspect, with considerable stretches of forestland. Indications of snow became less frequent; cultivated fields began to appear here and there, then little villages and finally a large city. Several towns of considerable size were passed over, but the airship was flying at too great an altitude for the boys to see much of them or to locate more exactly where they were.

By this time the sun was sinking, and there was danger of the Flyer’s passing completely over and beyond the “theater of war” in the darkness. Alan and Bob counseled a descent to earth for the night. This seemed to be a pretty safe procedure, as the vessel could be got under way again within a few minutes should any unexpected need arise, and it would, further, give the weary young aeronauts a chance to stretch their limbs and inhale some fresh air.

After a short discussion it was decided to do this. Sweeping in a diminishing spiral downward, the boys sighted a little village nestled snugly in a valley. The smoke from fires where goodwives were cooking the evening meal, arose in delicate streams in the calm air. Here and there a light already twinkled in a cottage window. Peasants were just driving the lowing cattle home for milking.

“Let’s land over there!” exclaimed Buck. “I’m fairly hungry for the sight of somebody who won’t shoot before asking who you are, and, aside from that, I’ll bet that these simple folk would be willing to set us up a regular homelike meal!”

“How do you know that they won’t shoot at us, Buck?” asked Alan.

“I guess that we’re pretty safe on that score,” Bob broke in. “These people are evidently honest countrymen who’ll be far more afraid of us than we need be of them.”

“Yes, and besides,” added Buck, “we can find out from them just where we are and how near we are to the battle front.”

“That’s a good point,” Ned said, “but they’re probably Russians or Poles, and they wouldn’t understand what we wanted to know. None of us speak their outlandish language.”

“I know a little Russian—at least enough for our needs,” volunteered Bob. “If you boys think that it’s safe to make a landing, I’ll guarantee to do all interpreting.”

“Fine!” chorused the others, and so the landing was made in the meadows within a stone’s throw of the first cottages.

There was, of course, immediate excitement throughout the town. The rusty bell in the steeple of the weather-beaten old church pealed an alarm, lights were immediately extinguished, and everybody came rushing out from their house-doors. At sight of the monster airship settling down there in the pasture with the blood-red rays of the sunset turning her metal body into the seeming of molten steel, a genuine panic ensued.

The women and children fled within, slamming and barring their doors behind them. The male villagers hastily caught up the first objects of defense that came to hand—flails, pitchforks, scythes, an old-fashioned muzzle-loading musket or two. They huddled together like so many frightened sheep in front of the town church, uncertain whether to fly or fight.

“Look!” called Buck. “We’re frightening these poor people to death. Show a white flag, some of you, and show them that we mean to be friendly.”

Alan complied by jumping down from the lower runway, waving a flag of truce, and both Buck and Bob followed him, holding their empty hands high in the air to show that they were unarmed. The trio walked slowly straight towards the group of peasants, while Ned remained on one of the outer galleries of the Flyer, rifle in hand, ready to defend them if need be.

“Don’t be alarmed, good people!” shouted Bob in Russian. “We don’t intend to harm you. All that we want is a good square meal, a chance to walk around a bit, and a little information as to our whereabouts.”

Although their suspicions were not altogether allayed, the peasants showed immediate relief, and three, who seemed to be the ringleaders, advanced hesitatingly to meet the approaching boys.

“Gott gruessen Ihr, Gefremde,” (God bless you, strangers) said one of them, extending his right hand.

“Holy smoke! Did you hear that, boys? He’s addressing us in German,” cried Bob and Buck together. “This is better than we looked for, but surely we can’t be back in Germany!”

Everybody shook hands solemnly all around, and Bob explained to the villagers.

“We are American newspaper men, over here to gather war news and find photographs for our papers,” said he. “We had an accident yesterday and lost our way, and now are simply looking for a chance to rest a little before going on.”

“You are all welcome to do that here,” said the spokesman for the villagers with true Teutonic hospitality. “We shall be glad to have you eat with us. In return you can tell us about the great war.”

“We certainly will take you up on that,” cried Buck, and led the way back to the airship to tell Ned of their cordial reception. All of the villagers—the women and round-eyed children too—crowded gaping around the strange aircraft with exclamations of wonder.

“I guess it will be safe for us to leave the Flyer here unguarded,” said Ned. “These people don’t act as if they would tamper with it, and I want to get in on those ‘eats’ too. Anyway, we won’t have to go very far away, and can get back here in a jiffy if we have to.”

All of the boys agreed to this and so it was settled. Before leaving the ship, to accompany the villagers, they all secretly slipped revolvers into their coat pockets. As Bob said:

“It’s always better to be on the safe side.”