CHAPTER IX
IN THE ENEMY'S COUNTRY
Dicky Mann became more interested in the study of maps and theirmaking than he would have thought it possible. When he came sufficientlyclosely in touch with the intricate system by which the air-photographand accurate map of every point behind the enemy line is carefullytabulated and filed away for reference, he developed a keenness forthe work which made him a valuable member of the organization.
The Brighton boys found, as time went on, that they had, quitefrequently, some spare hours in which they could do as they wished.Soon after their arrival in France they had envied Bob Haines hisknowledge of the French language, which, while rudimentary, wassufficient to enable him to make himself understood at times whenthe boys were quite at sea as to what he was trying to say to theFrench people to whom he was talking.
No sooner had the boys noticed that Bob had a decided advantage overthe rest of them on this score, than they set about to catch up withhim. But Bob was equally set on keeping the lead he had gained. JoeLittle and Dicky Mann were his only real rivals in this field. Dickyhad one assistant that was of the greatest use to him in the frequentcompanionship of Dubois, the French officer attached to headquarters.While Dicky's French was often ungrammatical, his pronunciation wasgood, much better, in fact, than either Joe's or Bob's.
One day Dicky was sent as an observer with Richardson, the littlemajor who usually accompanied that clever pilot being away on temporaryleave. Dicky pleased headquarters so much with his initial reportthat more and more observation work was given him. Thus he gainedvaluable experience which bade fair to ensure that he would be keptat observing most of the time.
The boy was inclined at first to regret this, for the obvious reasonthat those who did the flying work were much more "in the picture,"as Dicky put it, but the real fascination of the observation worksoon weaned him from any genuine desire to give it up. To his greatdelight he was at last put on the observation staff permanently, orat least was given regular work with that department---and who shouldbe assigned to pilot him but Bob Haines! To be with Bob, of whomDicky was especially fond, was a genuine pleasure to him, and thecombination proved a very good one from every standpoint. Bob'spassion for photographic work and Dicky's absorbing interest inmapping operations resulted in their approaching their joint workin a spirit of splendid enthusiasm for it, which could not butproduce good results.
Aeroplane work in war-time, however, has its "ups and downs," asJimmy Hill would say in his weekly letters home. He rarely misseda fortnight that this sage observation did not appear in some partof his four-page epistle. Jimmy stuck religiously to four pages,though he knew enough of censorship rules to avoid mention of hiswork, except in vague generalities. This necessity made writingfour pages dull work at times, and resulted in Jimmy's adoption ofvarious set phrases as filling matter. His mother, who knew Jimmyas only mothers know their sons, read into the often repeatedsentences Jimmy's ardent desire to show himself a ready and willingcorrespondent, when he was nothing of the kind. She loved thoseletters none the less for their sameness, thereby showing hermother-wisdom.
Thus far in the career of the Brighton boys with the aero forces atthe front their fortune had been on the side of the ups. The timecame when the downs had an inning.
Bad luck overtook Bob Haines and Dicky Mann while on an observationflight far over the firing lines and well inside territory occupiedby the enemy. They were on their outward journey, bound for a pointwhich they hoped to photograph quickly and then run for home. Theday was not an ideal one for flying, as shifting clouds gathered hereand there, some high up, some low. When they were in the vicinityof their objective the clouds beneath them obscured their view to anannoying extent. They had seen no other plane, friend or enemy,since they had left their own lines. Suddenly, without the slightestwarning, the engine stopped. Bob switched off the power, switchedit on again, and repeated the maneuver again and again while volplaningto preserve their momentum.
Try as he would, he could not get a single explosion out of the motor.Of fuel he had plenty. His wires and terminals---so much as he couldsee of them---were apparently in good order, but the engine had justcoolly stopped of its own accord, and could not be coaxed to start again.
Dicky looked round at Bob from the observer's seat in the fuselageand raised his eyebrows inquiringly. His glance fell on Bob's white,set face, and he saw that Bob was methodically going over one thingafter another, and trying first this, then that, as if examiningevery part of the plane's mechanism that he could reach. They werestill above the low-lying clouds that hid the earth.
"Engine?" queried Dicky.
Bob nodded. Still he ran his hands over the controls, as if loathto believe that he had exhausted every possibility of finding andrectifying the trouble. It was all in vain.
Still they swept lower and lower. Soon they would be below the clouds,and soon after that, landing so far inside the German lines that byno possibility could they hope to regain their own. It was abitter time for Bob. Dicky, curiously enough, took the firstrealization of their predicament less hard. He was all eyes to seewhat fate had in store for them in the way of a landing place.
As they swept through the last bank of clouds and the country belowspread before them, they saw that it was level pasture land for themost part, divided by green hedges, with here and there a cultivatedfield. A village lay some distance to the left, a mere cluster ofmean houses. No chateau or large building was in sight, but smallcottages were dotted about here and there in plenty.
"Not much room in one of those pastures," commented Dicky. "Mind youpick a decent one. Don't spoil the hedge on the other side of it,either."
Dicky's mood was infectious. Bob was sick at heart, but his friend'sjoking way of speaking had its effect.
"Would you rather be starved to death or neatly smashed? Do you preferyour misery long drawn out or all over in a jiffy?" Bob was jokingnow, though grimly enough.
"You tend to your part and let the Huns tend to theirs," answeredJimmy.
They were almost down now. As they approached the field which Bobhad chosen for landing, what was their horror to see, but one fieldaway, two German soldiers in their field gray! They were armed withrifles, and appeared to be carrying full field kit.
No others were in sight. The two burly Teutons looked in amazement atthe aeroplane, as if unable to grasp the fact that it was plainlymarked with the red, white and blue circles stamping it as a machinebelonging to the Allied armies.
While the boys knew well where they were, and how impossible it seemedthat they could escape capture eventually, the sight of two Germansoldiers right at the spot upon which they had so unfortunatelybeen compelled to land, was a real disappointment to them. Perhapsit was just such a disappointment, however, that was needed to keythem up to prompt action.
Bob did not dare to try to clear the tall, thick hedge which separatedthe field he had chosen for a landing place from the one next to it.He must stick to his original intention. As he swooped down to thefairly level ground Dicky took one last glance at the pair ofsoldiers, who had started toward the point where they thought theplane would land. The question in Dicky's mind was as to whetheror not the Boches would take a pot shot at the airmen before themachine came to rest. Evidently that had not occurred to them,however, and they merely started on a run, with the humane idea oftaking the aviators prisoner.
The machine taxied the full length of the pasture and went full tiltinto the hedge at the end of it. Luckily this hedge was just thickenough to stop the aeroplane effectively and yet prevent it frombreaking through and capsizing. While the machine did not go onthrough the hedge, the two boys did. They crashed through andlanded on the soft earth on the other side at almost the same moment.Each turned quickly to the other as they picked themselves up.Neither was seriously hurt, though Bob was badly shaken, and hadscraped most of the skin off the front of both shins. Dicky's headhad burrowed into the soft turf, and bu
t for his aviator's cap hemight have been badly bruised. That protection had saved him allinjury save a skinned shoulder.
"Come on, let's give 'em a run for it!" yelled Dicky, who was firstto recover his breath.
He started off, keeping close to the hedge, Bob close on his heels.As they approached the corner of the field they were faced withanother hedge, evidently of much the same character as the one throughwhich the boys had been hurled so unceremoniously a moment before.Inspired by a sudden thought, he put on a burst of speed, ran straightup to the leafy barrier, and dove right at it, head first as heused to "hit the center" for dear old Brighton. His maneuver did notcarry him quite through, but he managed to wriggle on just in timeto clear the way for Bob, who dived after him.
It was no time for words. Dicky started off to the right as fastas he could go, ever keeping close to the protecting hedge, runningswiftly and silently over the grass, Bob not many feet behind. Onehundred yards of rapid sprinting brought them to a lower, thinnerhedge through which they climbed easily. Fifty yards away was astream, which they jumped, finding themselves in a small wood. Theymade their way through this and debouched on a narrow country lane.The countryside seemed to contain no one except the two fleeingAmericans and the two pursuing Germans. No sort of ground couldhave suited better the game of hide-and-seek they had started.Each time the Boches came to a hedge or a bit of brush they hadto guess which way the Yanks had turned. Only once were they guidedby footprints.
Fully accoutered and loath to throw off any of their equipment, thetwo Germans soon became thoroughly winded, and finally stopped short.They had no doubt lost some minutes at the start by warily examiningthe plane and all around it for signs of the former occupants, whichhad given the Brighton boys just the start they so badly needed.
But the lads were really but little better off when they came to theconclusion that they had, for the time, at least, shaken off theirpursuers. They had passed fairly close to a cottage, which wasapparently untenanted. Now they came upon another. No signs oflife could they see around it. They pulled up for the first timeand stood behind a rude shack nearby.
"Lot of good it will do us to run away from those two," growled Bob,panting. "If they don't find us some other Boches will. It is onlyprolonging the agony."
"I prefer the agony of being free to the agony of being a prisoner,just the same," replied Dicky. "Those two soldiers may have a jobon that will not allow them to hang around here long. We have comequite a distance, and they would be very lucky to find us now. I'llbet they have gone on about their business. They will report thefact that a plane came down, and whoever comes to find it will thinksome other fellows have picked us up. This is too big a war foranyone to worry much about two men. Besides, the very hopelessnessof our fix is in our favor."
"I don't mind looking for silver linings to the cloud," said Bob."But how you make that out I cannot see."
"Why, who would ever dream that we could get away? Who would evenimagine it possible? Will the Germans spend much time searching tosee if two Americans are hiding so far inside their lines? Of coursenot. They will think it absolutely impossible that we could get anydistance without being picked up. Why should they waste their timeover us?"
"Well, is that cheering?"
"You bet it is!"
"Do you mean that there is a chance that we will not be picked up?"
"Of course I do. Cheer up! We are not caught yet. Sicker chapsthan we are have got well. True we can't get back to our front;and true again the chances are thousands to one against our escapingcapture, but Holland is somewhere back of us and to the north---andwe have that one chance, in spite of all the odds."
"And what'll they do to us in Holland---intern us for the duration ofthe war!" Bob was still pessimistic.
"Oh, you can't tell. If we can get away from the Boches we cansurely get away from the easy-going Dutchmen---and anyway, if wemust be interned I'd rather it happened in Holland than in Hun-land.Let's play the game till time is called."
"You're right," said Bob. "I ought to be ashamed of myself for losingheart. Let's forget that we came down in that plane, and think ofourselves as pedestrians. I remember reading somewhere that if youwant to play a part you've got to imagine yourself living it. Let'sthink we are Belgians."
"Good! And let's look like Belgians too---I guess to do that we willhave to turn burglar, eh? Well---they say all's fair in love and war,you know. Come on! Let's break into this house and see what wecan find?"