Our Young Aeroplane Scouts in Russia; or, Lost on the Frozen Steppes

by Horace Porter

  CHAPTER XXVII.

  OUT OF THE TOILS.

  It is doubtful if the chief Turk and the lesser Moslem who rode with theyoung aviators from Marmora to Constantinople had ever before had aflying experience, but they sat like wooden images in the observers'places, impassive and silent. Their watchword was "kader"--which meansthat their fate is in the hands of a superior force, and that what isgoing to happen will happen anyway.

  If the pilots, in a spirit of mischief, put the war-planes through somefancy paces, they wholly failed to disturb the composure of theOsmanlis.

  As Billy remarked later, "the chap with me was like 'a painted ship upona painted ocean,' and I couldn't shake him out of his trance to save myneck."

  Sailing into the Golden Horn, and alighting on a quay pointed out by theTurks, the boys found shelter for the war-planes in a covered bazaarcondemned for military purposes, and located near the artillerybarracks. To the great delight of the lads, they found Macauley andCanby sitting in front of the last named building, complacently puffingcheroots and seemingly with the least worry in the world.

  "Who comes here?" hailed Canby. "Advance and say 'how-de-do.'"

  The young aviators gave the demanded countersign with a will, andtwo-handed emphasis.

  "They have not put us under parole yet, I'm thankful to say," statedMacauley in an undertone, "and I hope they won't for a week at least. Isee you brought up the war-planes, and, blame me, if I don't believethere is some show of a get-away if we work it right."

  "S-sh," warned Canby, "the boss Turk has an eye on us."

  The quartette bunked together that night, though the Turkish officer atfirst insisted that the boys should accept quarters to themselves, thehonor of that palace visit still clinging to them. Billy and Henri verypromptly protested against separation from their comrades, and finallyhad their way.

  That they were closely guarded was impressed by a continuous shuffle ofslippered feet throughout the night before the door of their sleepingapartment.

  "How about your get-away?" whispered Canby.

  Macauley turned over in his cot, with a grunt. He was not ready,apparently, with any definite plan of action.

  Billy and Henri were doing some thinking on their own account. They,too, had yet to realize upon any brilliant idea of forming.

  They, however, found in the morning a line of labor cut out for them,and that was an overhauling of the Turkish aeroplane stock in theimprovised aerodrome--quite a variety, but rather short in number andcondition, the real quality of the collection being machines forwardedfrom Germany.

  Then it was that Billy expressed a decided liking for Turkish attire,and he had a reason for that, with Henri as his sole confidant. Thelatter, it is needless to detail, also took immediate notion to a Moslemmasquerade.

  Billy's next move was to request the assistance, in the old bazaarstructure, of the two British scouts, for "heavy work," as he explainedit, and the boy had to hold his sides, so mirth-provoking was the firstappearance of the Britons in Oriental pick-me-ups, something the worsefor former wear.

  Carrying on in amusement, Billy delivered an address to the"apprentices," for the benefit of the real Turks standing around, inwhich he advised: "There is a wise saying I have heard spoken here,'Luck is infatuated with the efficient;' now hustle and see if lucklikes you."

  Macauley shook a fist at Billy in mock anger, while Canby made a fearfulface at the laughing lad.

  The Britons were quick to fathom the design of the young aviators ingetting all of them into disguise.

  "That boy has a good head for music," was Canby's quiet tip to Macauley.

  Billy and Henri certainly earned their salt by the expert manner inwhich they set in order the flying fleet of the Turks, and the Moslemaviators that went out on scouting trips every day had no complaint ofill behavior on the part of the aeroplanes used by them.

  It might be mentioned that two war-planes of British make, occupyingspace near to the open front of the bazaar building, were not neglectedby the busy aeroplane experts. The tanks of these machines were keptfilled to the brim, and every running part oiled to a nicety.

  The prisoners were biding their time, and awaiting the golden momentwhen the taskmasters would relax vigilance by reason of somecounter-interest. Who but their immediate guard could have instantknowledge that two aeroplanes in the common run were carrying other thanreal "defenders of the faith" on scouting journey?

  And if all of these intimates in a bunch should join one of the dailyprocessions to the mosques, some special occasion demanding it, "justsee us get," as Billy said when figuring on such a happening.

  It came about that on a memorable day, nearing sunset, and the return ofthe Turkish airmen from various scouting tours anticipated, the fourcaptives found themselves alone in the makeshift aerodrome.

  "Catch on here," was Billy's quick summons to the others, who as quicklyresponded in rolling out the war-planes and into the starting place atthe rear of the barracks.

  The boy pilots set the motors in motion, and never had the buzzingseemed louder nor more insistent for attention than on this occasion,when every nerve in the four human make-ups was taut and tense withsuppressed excitement.

  They are off! Rising above that remarkable square of At-Meidan,occupying the site of the ancient Hippodrome, and wheeling to the rightof the magnificent mosque of Soliman, the young aviators had a clearview of the sea-front.

  Coming in both directions, up and down the coast, were the six or eightTurkish aircraft that had set out from the capital several hoursprevious.

  Leaning over Billy's shoulder, Macauley vociferated in the young pilot'sear:

  "We have a shot in the locker, but none in the gun."

  The "shot in the locker," to which "Daring Dan" referred, was food,which from time to time had been stored in the war-planes, inanticipation of escape and some unforeseen delay in getting back to theBritish lines. The prisoners had had no chance to obtain any cartridgesfor the wicked little swiveled shooting irons carried in the armoredaircraft. The Turkish officer was responsible for the removal of theoriginal supply.

  Billy well knew of the lack mentioned by Macauley, and he had alreadydecided to dodge the well-armed airline patrol by turning back from thesea and making a dash for the open on the Asiatic side.

  "Blame me," cried Macauley! "it looks like they've got a line on us!"

  Two of the Turkish craft were coming like the wind toward the Britishwar-planes, the latter still working directly upward.

  That was enough to settle the minds of the pilots on a land coursestraightway. Every ounce of driving power went into the war-planemotors, and there was nothing aloft in the Turkish empire that had aghost of a show in a race with these fleeing space-killers.