Kitabı oku: «The Boy Aviators with the Air Raiders: A Story of the Great World War», sayfa 11
CHAPTER XXI.
A STARTLING DISCOVERY
It quickly became apparent that the squalls they had previously met were playful little things compared with this one. It buffeted the big seaplane about as though determined to wind up its successful career then and there; and only for the complete mastery which Frank showed over the flier, some terrible accident must surely have ensued.
M. Le Grande was plainly nervous. He realized that in this sort of a wild storm an ordinary aëroplane would not have a ghost of a show. He was also at first inclined to doubt the capacity of the American boy aviator for meeting the strain of the situation.
As he watched Frank manage, however, this doubt took wings. He even began to take note of the astonishing stability of the Sea Eagle, and decide in his own mind that its like had never before been constructed.
Meanwhile Billy and Pudge were virtually “on needles and pins.” They had all kinds of confidence in Frank, and faith in the big plane as well; but that wind did shake things up terribly, and there could be no telling how much worse the conditions ahead of them might prove to be.
None of them could see three feet in any direction. Blinded by the swiftly driven snow pellets, that stung as they came in contact with their faces, they were compelled to bow their heads to the blast, and pity Frank who was forced to stand it without flinching.
Fortunately it did not last very long. Human endurance would have been exhausted had it continued indefinitely, for Frank was becoming more or less weak under the strain, when he heard the experienced French aviator shout in his ear:
“Courage, it is passing by! I can see the sunlight beyond. Courage, my brave boy! You have done magnificently, superbly! I take off my hat to you!”
Yes, they could all see now that the snow was growing lighter, showing the border of the cloud must have been reached. Frank had urged the seaplane on in a headlong rush with the idea of ending the agony sooner, and it was well he had shown such sagacity.
They emerged from the cloud which was soon left far astern. Frank cut down the speed to one-half, for the air was fearfully cold, and all of them seemed to be very nearly frozen.
Once in the bright sunshine again, though there was very little of warmth to it, those who could do so began to slap their arms violently to and fro in the effort to induce circulation. The French air voyager even relieved Frank from his arduous duties as well as possible, so that he could get some life in his stiffened fingers.
M. Le Grande was fairly bubbling over with praise, not only for the splendid way in which Frank had managed his craft, but in regard to the seaplane itself. Never, he told them, had he seen such a supremely satisfactory test made to prove the stability of a flier; and in every particular had the Sea Eagle proven itself worthy of the highest praise.
“Ah! M’sieu!” he went on to say warmly, “with a fleet of such wonderful craft, patterned after this type, we French could soon end the war alone and unaided, by striking terror to the heart of Berlin. I am pleased beyond measure with all I have experienced. The man whose mind conceived this wonder of the air is indeed a wizard.”
“Good for you!” cried Pudge, who naturally was delighted to hear his father spoken of so highly.
Once again they began to take an interest in what they could see far below them. New and varied sights were constantly cropping up as they journeyed on. The character of the country was gradually changing, too, for the dreary stretches of water that marked the inundated lowlands of Belgium near the coast began to merge into dry land. This was high enough to have shed the rains that had been falling during the better part of the winter now drawing to a close.
As before, Pudge and Billy commenced calling each other’s attention to different things that caught their eyes. These were all of an intensely interesting nature and extremely varied.
In numerous instances they were fired at. The faint report of volleys came to their ears as soldiers, in the hope of doing some damage, started shooting, though it must be an extraordinary rifle that could push a leaden missile that far up into the air.
Now and then some anti-aircraft gun perched on an elevation would take a shot at them, but the white puff of shrapnel smoke invariably appeared far below, and told that there was no danger from this source at present.
“It may be a different thing,” said Frank, when they started discussing this failure of the shots to reach their altitude, “when we strike a rough country, for from the summit of a high hill one of those guns could give us trouble.”
“Well, we must climb out of the danger zone then, that’s all,” concluded Billy, as though not worrying himself in the least about such a possibility.
They were now approaching the fighting line that stretched across the country in a zigzag fashion. Everywhere the Germans had dug themselves in as though it was their full intention to grimly hold on to what they had seized, and only allow the Allies to take it after the most desperate resistance.
Eagerly the French aviator was using his binoculars. No doubt he was making a mental map of many things they saw, and would not hesitate to use his knowledge afterward, if he thought it might benefit his side.
Frank winced a little as he thought of that, for he did not wish to be unfair any more than conditions imposed on him. He salved his conscience by telling himself that there was nothing they were observing but what any daring aviator of the Allies might not ascertain for himself by a flight across that section of the disputed territory of France.
“If I saw a German Taube man in trouble right now,” Frank was saying to himself, “I’d be just as quick to go to his rescue as though it were a Frenchman or a British pilot; and that’s what we mean by calling ourselves neutral. I warrant you that ninety-nine out of every hundred adults in the United States, who know about this war, have a leaning toward one side or the other, according from where their ancestors came. But we all wish it was over, and Peace had come again to these countries of Europe.”
There had really been little to proclaim the fact from radical changes in the villages below them, but Frank believed they must have left the Belgian border behind, and were now sailing over Northern France.
On mentioning this to M. Le Grande, he was immediately assured by the French aviator that such was indeed the case, and that though German fortifications still dotted the landscape below, it was the sacred soil of La Belle France.
“Soon will they have to pack up their baggage and set out for the Rhine country, when, in the Spring, the great offensive begins,” the patriotic Frenchman declared, as though the sight of those enemies encamped on the soil of his beloved land filled his heart with anguish.
It seemed as though there was more or less action going on all along the lines of trenches. As those who sped along high above the earth watched, they saw bodies of men shoot forward, to meet with a deadly fire from all manner of concealed guns. Perhaps they would be thrust back whence they sprang; or if the impetus of their advance were sufficient to carry them to the trenches of the enemy, there would ensue a hand-to-hand grapple that was terribly fascinating.
Pudge had to actually pinch himself several times in order to make sure he was awake, and not dreaming.
“To think that I’d ever have this wonderful chance to see what modern warfare is like!” he exclaimed in an awe-struck tone. “There’s the whole picture spread out below as if it might be painted especially for our benefit. Oh! what was that?”
A terrible explosion had apparently taken place. A section of the German trenches must have been blown up with a mine, for in the midst of the smoke they could see the khaki-clad British soldiers rushing pell-mell to occupy the breach before the Kaiser’s forces could recover from the shock, and hurry additional forces up to hold the particular spot.
Such things as that were happening here and there along a line hundreds of miles in extent. It was appalling to the boys to think of such a thing, having so recently come from across the sea, where their native land was basking under the sun of peace, with not an enemy to fear.
The country became more rugged as they pushed on. Still there was no sign of any hostile aëroplane rising to engage or trouble them. In fact, all that day up to now they could not remember having once set eyes on a Taube or a Zeppelin in the air. It certainly looked as though for once they must have had strict orders to keep in hiding until the storm had blown itself out.
“I can see what looks like a city away off yonder,” announced Billy, who was handling the glasses again.
“It is poor Lille, so long held possession of by the barbarians,” said the native aviator, with sadness in his tones; and the boys did not wonder at it when later on they learned to their surprise that M. Le Grande himself had been born and passed most of his life in that city of Northern France.
No doubt, if he could have had his way, he would have enjoyed nothing better than the chance to hurl down such a rain of bombs upon the invaders as must have hastened them back to their own country.
“Will you pass over Lille, Frank?” asked Billy, and there was that in his voice to tell how pleased he would be should his chum give a favorable answer.
“It would be something to say we had done it,” Pudge hastened to remark, showing the trend of his thoughts.
“Yes, we might as well take a look in, and see what the Germans are doing there,” Frank announced. “After which, with a swing around, we can set sail for the fighting line, pass over to ground which the British are holding, and then start for the coast at Dunkirk, and so complete the roundabout cruise.”
The seaplane passenger was staring at his native city through his glasses, muttering to himself in French. They could easily give a guess that these were far from blessings he was calling down on the heads of the Germans, who held on to everything they ran across so obstinately.
They were again made a target for numerous guns, but as Frank had risen to a somewhat higher level, they did not believe there was any chance of a stray missile doing any damage.
So they passed over Lille, and left the sorely stricken city behind them. M. Le Grande twisted himself halfway around, the better to see the last of the place where his heart lay.
It was just at this minute that Frank was heard to utter a cry, and manifest considerable consternation.
“What’s happened?” cried Billy, as quick as a flash; Pudge turned pale and glued his eyes on Frank’s face, which was to him a barometer.
“There’s a slackening up in the feed as though the pipe might be clogged!” exclaimed Frank, in considerable apprehension. “Billy, take a look and see about the amount of petrol we’ve got in the tank!”
Billy knew how to go about this; indeed, it was a part of his regular business.
He had hardly started to carry out Frank’s instructions before he shouted:
“Gee whiz! Frank, it’s just about plumb empty! We must have been hit, and the tank’s sprung a leak!”
“Ganders and gridirons!” cried Pudge in sheer dismay. “Whatever will happen to us now, if we’re forced to land in the midst of the whole German army! Whee! I see our finish!”
CHAPTER XXII.
THE NARROW ESCAPE
“It has been a leak, for even now it is dripping down!” exclaimed the French aviator, pointing his finger at the bottom of the petrol tank.
Pudge and Billy held their breath. Everything would depend on Frank, who must know what was best to do. They might plane downward, and manage to make some sort of a landing, but that would mean capture by the enemy. The presence of the French aviator would bring the wrath of the Germans down on the heads of the boys, and as a result they would be made prisoners of war.
Not only that must follow, but the precious seaplane would fall into the hands of the Kaiser’s men. Such a possibility could never be endured. M. Le Grande would be ready to try something desperate before such a catastrophe could be countenanced.
Frank had to do some pretty swift thinking. Fortunately he was not the one to lose his head in the presence of unexpected danger.
“We must make a furious attempt to get across the fighting line, which is some miles away from here at La Basse!” he exclaimed. “When we descend, it will be in the rear of the British forces, where we can be safe!”
“Let her go, Frank!” said Billy excitedly.
“Yes, for all she’s worth!” added poor Pudge, as well as he could, for his trembling lips made any sort of utterance difficult.
Frank had not waited for this to turn on all power. At the time of the discovery, with regard to the loss of their precious liquid fuel, the seaplane had been headed just right, so all that appeared necessary was increased motion.
The motors responded to the call upon their reserve powers. Again, with muffler cut-out wide open, and the green fire issuing from the exhausts amidst a roaring sound, they rushed through space.
What speed they were making none of them thought to notice by glancing at the aërial speed meter, but it must have been something like ninety miles an hour at the very least, possibly much more.
Here was another supreme test which the French aviator must be sure and take note of. He did not show any particular signs of alarm, though he was plainly excited.
Everyone was gazing ahead, their only aim being that they speedily arrive at the line where the gray-clad Germans were standing off the khaki-clothed soldiers of King George.
Such was the state of their nerves, that seconds seemed to drag like minutes. Billy was trying the best he could to focus his glasses so as to announce the glad tidings that they were rapidly nearing their goal; but he found it hard work because of the shaking of the seaplane under the forced pressure.
“It’s there just ahead of us, Frank!” he finally shouted. “Keep her going only a little while longer, and we’ll be all right!”
“Hurrah!” cried Pudge, rather feebly it must be confessed, for the wind fairly took his breath away.
Frank had not only kept straight on but at the same time he was commencing to head downward. There was a strong possibility that at any second the motors might refuse to work, being deprived of their feed, and in consequence the big seaplane would have to start earthward by the method popularly known as volplaning.
When reduced to that method of landing, Frank wanted to be as well down as he could with safety allow the seaplane to drop. What little danger they risked of being struck by some shot sent by the astonished Germans was not worth while considering. The great speed they were making would in itself serve to protect them from this threatening evil.
It was a critical moment for the aëroplane boys, and one that none of them would be likely to forget soon. They could notice that the rattle of the exhaust was growing more and more deadened. That told them the end was very near and then the last feeble effort of the motors would end in a total collapse.
“A pint of gasoline would see us through with flying colors!” exclaimed Billy.
“Just to think of it,” cried Pudge dismally, as though the thought of falling into the hands of the Germans and being treated as a prisoner of war filled his heart with dismay.
“On! on! keep her going, young m’sieu!” almost shrieked the Frenchman, as he half stood up in his great excitement, and turned his gaze from Frank to the prospect before them.
Frank had changed his plan of action. He no longer pushed the motors to their utmost. The muffler, too, now shut off those spiteful looking greenish flames, and the rattle was silenced.
In truth, Frank, in the belief that if they could only keep afloat, their momentum would be sufficient to carry the seaplane across the line of trenches, was trying to conserve every atom of power. He asked nothing more than this, and would be willing to take his chances of making a fairly successful landing, though a craft of that description was never intended to start or finish a voyage save on the water.
Pudge became more alarmed, now that the shrill clatter of the exhaust had been silenced, for unlike Billy he had not grasped just why this had come about.
“Oh! will we make it, Frank?” he cried in an agony of fear.
“I think so,” the pilot told him steadily.
“But she’s swaying right now as if ready to give up the ghost and drop!” Pudge complained in a strained voice. “That rattle has stopped. Why is that, Frank?”
“I did it so as to keep what energy we’ve got as long as we can,” he was told.
“We’re doing nobly, young m’sieu!” called out M. Le Grande.
“Yes, there are the trenches just ahead of us!” added Billy. “Listen to the rattle of rifles, will you? And I can hear cheers too, hearty English cheers. See them jumping up in plain sight and waving to us, boys! A little further, Frank, and you can volplane if it’s necessary, because we’ll have crossed the line and be in safety.”
But the puttering of the motors told that they had arrived at the last stage of labor. A gas engine cannot run without fuel of some sort, and the vapor now being fed was of an inferior quality, so that the energy became less and less.
They were at this critical time almost directly over the German trenches, and so close that they could see the soldiers pointing up at them, even without the use of field glasses or binoculars.
“Oh! did you hear that bullet hum past then?” ejaculated Pudge, who had ducked his head in an involuntary way as though he would avoid contact with the random lead, just as some nervous people start with each flash of lightning.
Other missiles were also winging along through space, showing that the seaplane, in its mad race for a safe landing, must have already descended a considerable distance under Frank’s manipulation.
Strange what queer thoughts will flash into the mind when under such a stress as this. Frank afterward laughed to remember how he was determining then and there, that if ever he had occasion to make another aërial voyage above hostile armies, where he might be subject to a bombardment, one of the things he meant to see about before starting was that he carried a bullet-proof petrol reservoir along with him.
Suddenly the motors ceased working, as the supply of gas came to an abrupt end. They were by now over the British trenches, where the men were shouting all kinds of hoarse salutes, though compelled to again hastily seek shelter in their pits, as the Germans had opened fire on them.
Frank had but one way open to him in order to reach the ground. This was to volplane swiftly, as he had many a time done after shutting off all power, and when a certain distance from the earth, by suddenly working his planes, cause the aircraft to assume a horizontal position instead of a vertical one, after which would come the straight drop.
Just what sort of a jar must accompany the landing would depend, in a great measure, on the distance they were up at the time, and the skill shown by the pilot in managing these things.
It is always deemed a spectacular method of descending from an upper level, and not as dangerous as it may appear to those who are unfamiliar with the working of aircraft. Frank had practiced it many a time, and in an ordinary aëroplane, with its rubber-tired wheels to run along the ground, would have thought nothing of it. When he had to land with a seaplane, never meant for such a purpose, it was a “horse of another color,” and might be considered a very ticklish job.
The ground seemed to be rushing up to meet them as they fell. Pudge shrank back as though he could already feel the terrible shock of the contact, should they continue to make that swift downward progress.
But Frank was ready to change the planes, and in this manner alter the conditions. They would act as a stay, and bring their headlong rush earthward to an end. After that it would simply be a dead weight drop, and perhaps not so hard as to smash anything about the seaplane beyond repairing.
Before Pudge had time to take another full breath it was all over. They had swept down beyond a low hill, on top of which stood one of the windmills so often seen in Holland, Belgium and Northern France, with its broad arms standing motionless, and the tower showing signs of having been struck by more than one solid shot during some tempestuous battle for the rise.
With slackening speed, the seaplane followed the descent, and then came to almost a full stop at its base. After that it dropped straight to the ground.
The shock proved to be rather severe, and Pudge was even jolted from his seat, falling in a heap close by. Frank jumped out and was immediately followed by Billy and the French air pilot, all of them perhaps considerably shaken, but apparently none the worse for the rough experience.
Frank first of all sprang over to where Pudge was wallowing. The fat boy sat up just as Frank reached his side.
“I hope you’re not hurt much, Pudge?” cried the pilot of the Sea Eagle, as he hurriedly bent over to assist his chum to gain his feet.
Pudge started to feel himself all over. He ran his hands along his fat sides, and then down each leg; after which he proceeded to announce the result.
“Nope, don’t seem to have any serious contusions or broken bones that I’ve been able to find. Guess I’m all whole, Frank, as I hope the rest of you are. But how about the poor old Sea Eagle; is she smashed beyond repair, do you think, Frank?”
“I haven’t taken a look at her so far,” the other told him. “What little damage may have been done can be easily repaired, once we get her taken by wagon to our hangar at Dunkirk.”
“Good enough!” cried Pudge. “I was worrying more over the seaplane than about myself, I do declare. When we can get in touch with the commander at this section of the British forces, we might be able to commandeer some sort of wagon on which the machine can be packed, after we’ve taken it to pieces, and transported it to town. Our good friend, M’sieu Le Grande can tell them the plane now belongs to the French Government, and that a heap depends on its being taken to Dunkirk.”
As they reached the spot where the big seaplane lay like a wounded bird, it was to see the Frenchman and Billy come crawling out from under the wings.
“What’s the extent of the damage?” asked Frank immediately.
Before Billy could start explaining, there was a sharp sound heard, and Frank actually felt the wind of a bullet whizzing past his cheek.
“Duck down everybody!” he exclaimed, suiting his actions to the words, and pulling Pudge after him. “We’re being fired on by somebody concealed in that old windmill base over there. Try and find shelter if you can, Billy!”
