Part 5 (2/2)
It was very exciting work, and Jack Parmly gloried in it. Though he had to take additional chances in order to tempt the Hun gunners to betray their cunningly arranged coverts, there was also a satisfaction in knowing that by so doing he and his a.s.sistant were saving many precious lives of the infantry regiments down in the forest that had proved a graveyard for thousands.
A second time did they get a ”bite.” Again was the retreat conducted in the midst of a rattling volley, with hurtling missiles burning the air all around them, as well as beating a lively tattoo on the armored parts of their plane.
After that they flew higher, in the hope that some enterprising Boche flier, seeing their challenge, would come over to give them battle. For half an hour, they kept this up, and then, as they tempted forth no adversary, determined to drop down once more and root out a third nest before going in for the noonday meal.
”They're at it hammer and tongs to-day for fair!” called out Morgan, as he used his binoculars and picked out spots far below where there seemed to be open fighting going on. He could discover bodies of German troops being rushed forward and then falling back with decimated ranks before a fierce flame of shot and sh.e.l.l poured in by Yankee batteries.
”Getting desperate, that's what!” announced Jack, starting a dip that by stages would take them down once more into the dangerous quarter of treetops under which lurked the deadly foe with his thousands of rapid-fire guns.
Other planes were in sight here and there, carrying out similar tactics with more or less success, according to the daring of the pilot in tempting the Huns beyond their power to resist. Jack determined to pa.s.s further on and see what he could unearth in a new quarter.
What he and his chum had been talking of that very morning was still fresh in his mind. How he would like to discover one of those unusual nests where half a dozen or more gun crews lurked, ready to hold up that entire sector of the advancing line, so the American troops would be unable to reach their objective for that day at least.
So it was in the hope of attaining this end that he now flew to another section of the forest which he had been desirous all morning of visiting, under the impression that it might yield the bag to which he aspired in his search for game.
As they circled over the tree tops Morgan was turning his gla.s.ses to the best advantage. Jack kept trying to cover the ground systematically, and yet making numerous quick jumps so as to disconcert the enemy should a sudden fierce burst of firing announce that a nest had been located.
All at once Morgan gave a loud cry. It seemed to spell victory, and Jack instantly called out:
”Struck oil, have you, Felix? Where away does it lie?”
”Look down to the left and you'll just glimpse what seems to be the stone base of an old abandoned windmill, I think, Jack. All overgrown with weeds and brush, it is too. I saw a number of men moving about, and some of them were crouching back of their biggest machine-guns. This is one of those jumbo forts we've heard of; no mistake about it either.”
”Grab off the location to a dot then, Felix, and we'll see what can be done for those waiting Yankee batteries!” snapped Jack, greatly excited, as well as pleased, by their important discovery. ”Let me know when you have your landmarks, and I'll elevate, so we can get in touch with the battery observer.”
”It's the king-pin of all their nests, Jack, a regular bouncer, I tell you!” cried the other, using his gla.s.ses again to advantage.
”All right then,” the pilot a.s.sured him, ”we'll see that their name is mud before much longer. Ready, Felix?”
Instead of giving Jack the reply which the other expected the observer gave a sudden startled yell.
”They've got us trapped, Jack! Sure they have! Look up!” came his warning shout, and as the pilot craned his neck to obey he discovered no less than three big German Gotha battleplanes hovering over them, waiting to engage them in a most unequal combat.
CHAPTER VII
”MOPPING 'EM UP!”
FROM below there suddenly burst a dangerous bombardment. The German gunners hidden in the camouflaged pile of rocks had apparently decided that the airmen in the two-seated plane hovering above had discovered their place of concealment, and, unable to endure the thought of being flanked by the oncoming boys in khaki, had opened fire.
Of course their plan was to bring down the American machine and seal the lips of those who flew in it before they could communicate the nature of their discovery to their comrades.
This made the situation doubly perilous for Jack and Morgan. If they attempted to rise, as discretion suggested, there were those three grim monster Hun Gothas waiting to envelop them with an avalanche of gunfire.
This could have only one result; namely, the destruction of the plane bearing the totem of the Red Indian's head.
It was a time for quick decision. As the deadly missiles from below continued to pepper the air around them, and even beat a tattoo against the body of their plane, Jack started into a series of wigwag evolutions which he had evolved for just such a desperate situation.
<script>