by E. J. Craine
CHAPTER XIX
QUEER LIGHTS
Tom Raymond's first few shots went wild, as he noted by the tracerbullets. Then, steering his machine with his feet, he brought it arounda trifle, and, having by a quick action risen above his antagonist, helet him have a good round, full in the face. The result was disastrousto the German, for suddenly the Hun machine burst into flames, thegasolene from the punctured tank burning fiercely, and down it went aflaming torch of death.
Tom felt some bullets whistle around him, and one exploded as it struckpart of his engine, but without injuring it.
"Explosive bullets, are they?" mused the young aviator. "Against all therules of civilized warfare. Well, he won't shoot any more," he thoughtgrimly.
But though Tom had come victorious from his engagement with his singleantagonist, he had no sooner straightened out and begun to take stock ofthe situation, than he became aware that he was in great danger. Abovehim, and coming at him with the swiftness of the wind, were two speedyGerman machines, bent cm his destruction.
They were both firing at him, the angles of attack converging, so thatif one missed him the other would probably get him.
"I've got to get out of this," Tom reasoned. He headed his plane towardthe antagonist on his right, shooting upward and firing as rapidly as hecould, and had the satisfaction of seeing the German swerve to one side.The fire was too hot for his liking.
The other, however, came on and sent such a burst of fire at Tom thatthe latter realized it was a desperate chance he was taking. He tried toget above his enemy, but the other's plane was the speedier of the two,and he held the advantage.
Tom's ammunition was running low, and he realized that he must dosomething. He decided to take a leaf out of the book of the Germans.
"I'll go down in a spinning nose dive," he reasoned. "They'll be lesslikely to hit me then. I'll have to go back, I guess, and get some moreshots. I used more than I thought."
He sent his last drum at the persistent German, and, noting that theother was swooping around to attack again, went into the dangerousspinning nose dive.
The Germans may have thought they had disabled their antagonist, forthis dive is one a machine often takes when the pilot has lost control.But in this case Tom still retained it, and when he had dropped out ofthe danger zone, he prepared to straighten out and fly back over his ownlines.
It is not easy to straighten an airplane after such a dive, and for amoment Tom was not sure that he could do it. Often the strain of thisnose dive, when the machine is speeding earthward, impelled not only byits propellers, but by the attraction, of gravitation, is so great as totear off the wings or to crumple them. But after one sickening moment,when the craft seemed indisposed to obey him, Tom felt it beginning toright itself, and then he started to sail toward the French lines.
He was not out of danger yet, though he was far enough away from the twoGerman machines. But he was so low that he was within range of theGerman anti-aircraft guns, and straightway they began shooting at him.
To add to his troubles his engine began missing, and he realized that ithad sustained some damage that might make it stop any moment. And hestill had several miles to travel!
But he opened up full, and though the missing became more frequent hemanaged to keep the motor going until he was in a position to volplanedown inside his own lines, where he was received with cheers by hiscomrades of the camp.
"How goes it?" asked Major de Trouville anxiously.
"I think we are holding them off," said Tom.
He was the first one who had had to return, much to his chagrin. Heleaped out of his craft, and was about to ask for another to go back andrenew the battle of the clouds, when he saw the big photographingmachine returning, accompanied by all but two of the escorting craft.
"A pair missing," murmured the major, as he searched the sky with hisglasses.
And Tom wondered if Jack's machine was among those that had not headedback.
Eagerly he procured a pair of binoculars, and when he had them focusedhe identified one machine after another, at last picking out his chum's.It did not seem to be damaged.
But two of the French craft had been brought down--one in flames, thereport had it, and the other out of control, and both fell within theGerman lines.
"Did you get any photographs of the big gun?" asked the major, when themen in the double machine had made a landing.
"We got lots of views," answered the photographer, "but what they showwe can't say. As far as having seen the gun goes, we didn't spot it."
"Well, maybe the photographs will reveal it," suggested the major. "Ah,but I am sorry for the two that are lost!"
Jack's experience had been less exciting than Tom's. One machine hadattacked the former, and there had been a hot engagement for a while,but the German had finally withdrawn, though to what extent he waswounded or his machine damaged Jack did not know.
However, the picked squadron had reason to feel satisfied with theirefforts. All now depended on the developing of the photographs, and thiswas quickly done. For this part of warfare is now regarded as soimportant that it is possible for a plane to fly over an enemy'sstation, take photographs and have prints in the hands of the commandingofficer inside of an hour, if all goes well.
Carefully the photographs were examined by men expert in such matters.Eagerly they looked to discover some signs of the emplacement of the biggun. But one after another of the experts shook his head.
"Nothing there," was the verdict.
"Then we've got to try again," decided Major de Trouville. "We mustfind that gun and destroy it!"
"Well, we're ready," announced Tom, and the others of the pickedsquadron nodded in assent.
And then began an organized campaign to locate the monster cannon. Itcontinued to fire on Paris at intervals. Then three days went by withoutany shells falling, and the rumor became current that the gun had burst.If this had happened, there was another, or more, to take its place, foragain the bombarding of the city began.
Meanwhile the air scouts did their best to find the place of the firing.Hundreds of photographs were taken, and brave scouts risked death morethan once in flying low over suspected territory. But all to no purpose.Several were killed, but others took their places. Jack was hit and sobadly wounded that he was two weeks in the hospital. But when he cameout he was again ready to join Tom in the search.
No word came as to the whereabouts of Bessie and her mother, nor did Tomhear anything of his father. The lack of information was getting on thenerves of both boys, but they dared not stop to think about that, forthe army needed their best efforts as scouts of the air, and they gavesuch service gladly and freely.
Every possible device was tried to find the location of the German gun,and numerous battles above the clouds resulted at different times duringthe scout work.
On the whole the advantage in these conflicts lay with the armies of theAllies, the Germans being punished severely. Once a German plane wasbrought down within the French lines, and its pilot made a prisoner.
It was hoped that some information might be gotten out of the Germanairman that would lead to the discovery of the big gun, but, naturally,he did not reveal the secret; and no more pressure was brought to bearon him in this matter than was legitimate. The hiding place of the gunremained a secret.
Its possible size and the nature of its shooting was discussed every dayby Tom, Jack and their comrades. In order to make a cannon shoot adistance of about eighty miles it was known that it was necessary to getthe maximum elevation of forty-five degrees. It was also calculated thatthe shell must describe a trajectory the highest point in the curve ofwhich must be thirty-five miles or more above the earth. In other wordsthe German cannon had to shoot in a curve thirty-five miles upward tohave the missile fly to Paris. Of course at that height there was verylittle air resistance, which probably accounted for the ability of themissile to go so far. That, and the sub-calibre shell, made theseemingly impossible come within the ra
nge of possibility.
"What are you going to do, Tom?" asked Jack one evening, after anunsuccessful day's flight. For Tom was going toward his hangar.
"Going up."
"What for?" Jack went on.
"Oh, no reason in particular. I just feel like flying. We didn't do muchto-day. Had to come back on account of mist, and we didn't see enough topay for the petrol used. Want to come along?"
"Oh, I might, yes."
Tom and Jack went up, as did several more. But the two remained uplonger than did the others, and Jack was somewhat surprised to see hischum suddenly head for the German lines, but at an angle that would takehim over them well to the south of where the observation work had beencarried on.
"I wonder what he's up to," mused Jack; "Guess I'd better follow andsee."
There was not much chance of an aerial battle at that hour, for dusk wascoming on. There had been no bombing squadron sent out, which wouldhave accounted for Tom going to meet them, and Jack wondered greatly athis chum's action.
Still there was no way of asking questions just then, and Jack followedhis friend. They sailed over the German lines at a good height, and Jackcould keep Tom in view by noting the lights on his plane.
These were also seen by the Germans below, and the anti-aircraft gunsbegan their concert, but without noticeable effect. None of the Hunairmen seemed disposed to accept a challenge to fight, so Tom and Jackhad the upper air to themselves.
Below them the boys could see flashes of fire as the various guns weredischarged; and at one point in the lines there was quite an artilleryduel, the French batteries sending over a shower of high explosiveshells in answer to the challenge from the Boches.
It was not until Jack had followed his chum back to Camp Lincoln, andthey had made a landing, that a conversation ensued which was destinedto have momentous effect.
"Jack, did you notice the peculiar colored lights away to the north ofwhere we were flying?" asked Tom, as they divested themselves of theirfur garments.
"You mean the orange colored flare, that turned to green and then topurple?" asked Jack.
"That's it. I thought you'd see it. I wonder what it means?"
"Oh, perhaps some signal for a barrage or an attack. Or they may havebeen signaling another battery to try to pot us."
"No, I hardly think so. They didn't look like signal fires. I must askMajor de Trouville about that."
"What?" inquired the major himself, who was passing and who heard whatTom said.
"Why, we noticed some peculiar lights as we were flying over the Germanlines in the dark. There was an orange flare, followed by a green lightthat changed to purple," answered Tom.
"There was!" cried the major, seemingly much excited. "You don't meanit! That's just what we've been hoping to see! Come, you must tellLaigney about this."