CHAPTER III BY AEROPLANE ACROSS THE BORDER
When the leader of the Eagle Patrol made this astounding assertion bothof his friends betrayed additional interest. Indeed, it was a questionwhether Andy or Tubby, by the rapt expression on their faces, showed thegreater excitement.
Tubby had one great advantage over his comrade. He had been abroad withRob and Merritt Crawford, and had watched aeroplane pilots, both of theAllies and the Germans, shooting like meteors across the skies, bent ontheir work of learning what was going on back of the enemy’s lines so asto give points to those who handled the monster guns far in the rear,allowing them to drop their shells exactly where most wanted.
“Well, to think of the nerve of that fellow!” exclaimed the indignantAndy. “He snaps his fingers at the proclamation of the President aboutall true Americans standing for strict neutrality. Why, he’s meaning togive those Canucks the best chance ever to protest and claim damagesfrom our Government. Isn’t that a fact, Rob?”
“Just what it is, Andy,” replied the scout master, watching the courseof the small object so far up in the air that it resembled a giant bird.
“If they blow up a bridge, and wreck a train loaded with millions ofdollars’ worth of stuff, and it’s proved that the scoundrels passed overfrom _our_ side of the border, Uncle Sam will have to pay the wholebill?” questioned Tubby, now becoming aroused in turn.
“No doubt of it, if the proof is forthcoming,” Rob assured him serenely,since he knew enough of treaties and international law for that.
“Then anything that’s done against Canada from our side is really a blowaimed at our own country?” questioned Andy, beginning to show signs ofanger. “Why, if it stands that way, then those conspirators are just asbad as if they were trying to knock a big hole in the U. S. Treasury,from which untold oodles of money could drop out. They’re breaking theneutrality laws smack. I’d like to let ’em know just what I think ofsuch sneaks. There ought to be some way to detect and punish suchbackhanded knockers.”
“Oh, there are plenty of ways!” asserted Rob. “The law is stern enough,if you only can catch them in the act. There’s the rub. They take allsorts of precautions to hide their identity. Who could recognize thatchap up a mile or so from the earth? How does any one know that he’smeaning to drop lower presently, so as to take a lot of pictures of therailroad where it passes over a bridge or trestle?”
“Is _that_ the way it’s done?” ejaculated the deeply interested Andy,who was more or less ignorant of how air pilots make themselves souseful in war times.
“Watch him!” snapped Rob, and all eyes were again focussed on the fardistant object moving across the heavens, and passing some fleecyfragment of a floating white cloud.
“As sure as anything he’s dropping on a regular toboggan slant!” criedAndy, thrilled by the sight.
“Huh!” remarked the wise Tubby, with the pride of superior knowledge,“that’s what they call volplaning. Sometimes an aviator will shoot downfor a mile like a streak of lightning, and just when you think he mustbe smashed against the ground he’ll suddenly stop, just like adescending eagle does, and sail away as nice as you please on a lowerlevel.”
“Which is exactly what that spy is doing right now!” exclaimed Andy. “Iguess he is down far enough for him to see all he wants to, and alsosnap off some pictures. But, Rob, if there are Canadian troops guardingthe bridge across there why wouldn’t they give him a volley to let himknow he hadn’t any business on that side of the International Line?”
“I expect that’s what they will do any minute now,” Rob assured him. “Wemay not hear the sound of the guns over here; miles lie between; but weought to be able to tell by the actions of the aviator. If the leadcommences to sing about his ears, he’s likely to mount again; he’ll beafraid of having his gasolene tank pierced by one of them, or be struckhimself.”
“When we were on the other side, Rob,” interjected Tubby, “you know wealways said petrol instead of gasolene; but they both mean the samething. There, look, will you; he’s started up again, as sure asanything, making spirals, as they generally do when ascending in a bighurry.”
As Tubby declared, the man in the aeroplane had suddenly changed hislocation and was now ascending as fast as he could. Something hadundoubtedly caused him to do this. Rob said he wished he had thought tofetch a pair of binoculars along with him, for then they might seespurts of smoke on the ground, and possibly even discover the bridgeitself.
“But then who would ever dream we’d want glasses for such a purpose?”Tubby observed. “Goodness knows we’re lugging enough load as it is. Heis turning around now, Rob, and heading this way again. Do you think heaccomplished his purpose, and is now bent on getting out of range ofthose bullets?”
“Very likely,” the other replied, “though his danger was more imaginarythan real. To strike a moving aeroplane at that height with an ordinarymilitary rifle would be next door to an accident. Haven’t we seen airpilots take all sorts of daring chances, with shrapnel bursting allaround them?”
The three scouts watched until the mysterious machine had vanishedtoward the south. They could hear the sound of the motor as it passedhigh overhead, though at a considerably lower level than when going theother way.
Once more then they started off, though Tubby had great difficulty in“getting a move on him,” as he called it; for that load on his backseemed to make him feel like Sinbad the Sailor when the Old Man of theSea refused to dismount from his shoulders, after being assisted alongthe way, demanding that he be carried still farther.
The afternoon was now beginning to wane very fast. Already the westeringsun had sunk far down in the heavens, and was heading for the horizon.While their conversation had been mostly upon the entrancing topic ofthat strict neutrality which had been enjoined on all citizens of theUnited States while the World War was in progress across the sea, at thesame time Tubby’s thoughts would frequently stray to his own presenttroubles.
“It doesn’t look much like we would run across that old logging campto-day, where Uncle George was going to make his first stay, does it,Rob?” he was heard to ask for possibly the sixth time.
And as he had patiently done on every other occasion the scout leaderanswered him pleasantly.
“I’m sorry to say there’s little chance of that happening, Tubby, muchas all of us would like it. According to my rough chart, we must begetting in the neighborhood of that camp, though, and, if lucky, wemight even run across your uncle to-morrow. Certainly, if we hear anyshooting near by we’ll give a shout, and try to find out who’s who.That’s the best I can say, Tubby.”
“Thank you, Rob, very much,” said the fat boy sweetly. “I know wellenough that if it depended on you we’d arrive in camp inside of half anhour. Then, having accomplished my mission up here, we could all giveourselves up to a delightful ten days of knocking around, and doing somehunting with his guides. That means we’ll soon have to call a haltourselves and camp?”
Rob had to laugh at the vein of pleading he could detect in Tubby’svoice when he made that apparently innocent remark.
“I’m looking around for a good site, Tubby,” he announced, and at thatthe moon face of the stout member of the patrol fairly beamed withpleasure.
It was not more than ten minutes afterward when Rob stopped short.
“Here’s where we spend the night, fellows,” he told them.
“A bully good place,” assented Andy, casting a look of appreciationaround at the trees, with several openings that allowed them to see thesky, and gave a promise of all the fresh air they would want.
“Yes, and I hear a brook gurgling along near by!” declared Tubby;—“themain reason why you picked out this place, Rob. The water left in mycanteen is getting pretty stale, so I’ll be mighty glad to get a decentcool drink of sweet water.”
He hastily slipped out of the broad bands of his pack, and scurried overin the direction whence that pleasing drip of wat
er was heard. Theothers saw him stop and then lie flat on his paunch, for with Tubby itwas not so easy to get his mouth down to a low level, owing to hispeculiar formation; usually his heels had to be higher than his head,just as you would tilt a barrel up to make the rim come in contact withthe ground, all owing to that curve of the staves.
As they carried no tent, for that was utterly out of the question, itwould be necessary for the trio of scouts to make some apology for ashelter calculated to keep the dew or the frost from chilling theirbodies, as they slept in the open.
But, indeed, this was only a delight to these lads, accustomed as all ofthem were to roughing it. Many a time in the past had they constructed abrush shanty that, in an emergency, might even shed rain to some extent,and would surely afford them shelter from the chilly night air.
All of them got busy immediately, fetching branches and every manner ofmaterial that would be needed in the task. While Rob himself took overthe job of building the shack, he had Andy cutting wood for a fire, andTubby dragging further supplies of fuel toward the spot, so thataltogether it made quite an animated picture, with everybody workinglike beavers.
Before the evening was fully upon them, things began to take on quite ahomelike appearance. The shanty was completed, being rudely built, witha decided slant toward the back, and an open front. Some sportsmen’stents are made on the same pattern, the idea being to have the fire soplaced as to cause the sloping roof to reflect the heat that comes inthrough the open front.
Then came the always delightful job of cooking supper. No boy was everknown to object to lending a hand when this task is broached. Tubby,being something of a chef by this time, due to a grim determination toexcel in one branch, even if he could never equal Rob in woodcraftknowledge, or other fellows in their several fads, had taken it uponhimself to carry out the arrangements.
His depression had fled. The other boys were so full of optimism that itseemed to fill the air, even as that tempting smell of coffee, withfried onions, potatoes and bacon as accessories did. A more despondentchap than Tubby must have yielded to the general feeling ofsatisfaction.
Witness them, therefore, a little later on, spread out close to thefire, each with his legs crossed under him tailor-fashion, and bent onstowing away the heaping pannikin of hot food that had been served outas his share of the supper; while the big tin cups were brimming full offragrant coffee that, as Andy said, “went straight to the spot everytime.”
The first edge of their ferocious appetites appeased, the boys did nothurry, but took their time in eating. It was that delightful hour of theearly evening in the pine woods when all Nature seems to be hushed, andthe heart of the camper rejoices in his surroundings, which he joyouslycompares with the unhappy lot of those mortals who are compelled toremain amidst the skyscrapers of the city, chained to their desks, whilethe camper owns the whole world.
The Boy Scouts at the Canadian Border Page 3