presently they all came circling over us, and then they turned and made off.
"Mr. Lacey got into a rare state after they had gone. He said, 'Those machines were making a systematic search for us, and they are not the only ones, I'll be bound. They've got wireless and they'll send an armed guard straight to this spot; we shall have to get out of it.' `What about Major Bigglesworth and Ginger?' I said. Well, he sat down on that tree where you sat a minute ago and stared at the ground. 'I'm dashed if I know what to do for the best,' he said. Ìf we stay here they're bound to find us and collar the amphibian, and then we're sunk; there's no getting away from that. Yet if we take the machine away, how on earth can we let the others know what has happened; what will they do when they get here?'
"Well, it was a nice problem, as you can understand, sir. We talked it over. First we thought of taking the machine away, leaving a letter for you to say what had happened. Then we saw that wouldn't do, because if we left the letter in a conspicuous place the other people would find it when they came, and know all about it. If we put the letter where they couldn't see it, you wouldn't know it was there. Anyway, after a lot of ideas that we didn't like, we decided that the only thing to do was to split up, him taking the machine to a safe place, and me staying here to tell you what had happened. So he took . off, and it was a good thing he did, for he hadn't been gone many minutes when I heard a crowd coming. I shinned up a tree and watched.
"There must have been about twenty of them, all in uniform, and they kicked up a rare old row when they found the machine had gone; they could see where it had been, of course, by the wheel-marks. The chap who
seemed to be in charge went to the edge of the wood and stared up at the sky for about ten minutes; then he gave it up as a bad job, I suppose, for he pushed off, leaving a couple of men on guard. Just before it got dark, a fellow came along on horseback and gave them fresh orders, I fancy, for they all went away together. I wasn't sorry, either, I can tell you, for I was getting pretty stiff up my tree. I hung about keeping watch, and I got back up the tree when I heard you coming, in case it wasn't you."
"Yes, but where has Mr. Lacey gone and what is he going to do?" asked Biggles impatiently. "They're searching the forest for us now, and they'll comb it from end to end as soon as it is daylight. Quite apart from the machine, they know that two of us are here, anyway."
"How?"
"They've seen us. I haven't time to tell you about it, but they're after us. We managed to give them the slip in the dark, but I doubt if we can hang out very long in daylight. What did Mr. Lacey say he was going to do?"
"He said he'd push off to that small lake we passed on the way here, and stay there until morning. He's coming back as soon as it is daylight to pick us up at the northern extremity of this lake."
"I suppose it was the best he could do in the circumstances, but this all sounds a crazy business to me. We hadn't very much petrol as it was, and if he goes tearing about the sky looking for somewhere to land, he'll run out altogether, and then we shall be in a nice mess. The idea of landing anywhere on this lake makes me go cold. With the whole crowd looking for us I don't see how it can be done without us being seen."
"But he wasn't to know that," put in Ginger. "I don't see what else he could do."
"No, I suppose you're right," admitted Biggles, "but I wish he'd arranged some other landing-place."
"I don't suppose he knew of one; he wouldn't be such a fool as to land on this very spot again, knowing that it was certain to be watched."
"He didn't like the idea of coming down on land," put in Smyth. "He said, 'If I run into a tree-stump or something bang goes the whole works.' That's why he decided to come down on water, which he reckoned was the only safe thing to do. At one time we thought of asking you to try and reach the other lake on foot."
"Well, it's no use wondering what we might have done or should have done; we know what we have got to do, so let's do it. We'd better start working up towards the northern end of the lake."
Crack!
The whip-like report of a rifle shot, not very far away, made them all jump. It was followed by a shout, which in turn was followed by others.
"Yes, it's high time we were moving," went on Biggles crisply. "They're beating the forest for us, and they're shooting first and asking questions afterwards, by the sound of it. Indian file, and take it slowly, but we must be in position by the time Algy lands. He won't be able to hang about waiting for us."
With Biggles leading they set off towards the lake, and on reaching it turned towards the north, keeping the lake always in sight. It was a march that was to live in their memories for many a day. The moon came out from behind a cloud, and made things easier, but it flung curious shadows that often made them freeze into immobility until they were satisfied that the suspicious object was not a human being. Once, a water-fowl rose up with a whirr of wings from under their feet, and
brought their hearts into their mouths; but it served a useful purpose, for a voice spoke sharply from somewhere just ahead on their line of march. They just had time to crawl under some bushes and throw themselves flat when a crashing in the undergrowth warned them -that someone was approaching. A moment later a man appeared at the water's edge, with a rifle held at the ready. He walked slowly towards them, looking to right and left, and came to a stop not twenty yards away. Another voice called out from somewhere quite close, and the man answered, but they could not understand what he said. Shortly afterwards, to their infinite relief, he walked back in the direction from which he had come.
Ginger drew a deep breath. "Say!" he breathed. "This is giving me the heeby-jeebies; what are we going to do?"
"We're going on because it's no use going back," muttered Biggles.
"The place is alive with people," whispered Smyth.
"We can't help that. If anyone sees us we shall have to make a bolt for it; if they start shooting, I'll show them that two can play at that game. If I have to stop, you two keep on and I'll follow as fast as I can."
"I've got a gun, too," whispered Ginger.
"You keep it in your pocket; I shall feel safer. I don't think you've any ammunition left, but I don't want the back of my head blown off in the dark," Biggles told him curtly. " Come on."
Almost at once they came upon an open lane, or drive, that had been cut through the forest. Biggles held up his hand, dropped on all fours, and crawled towards it with infinite care. He moved his head forward towards the edge of the cutting, looked both ways quickly, and then rejoined the others. He caught Ginger
by the wrist and pulled him down until his ear was level with his mouth. "Two men—
twenty yards away," he breathed. He did the same to Smyth. "Don't move an inch," he warned them. "Crack a twig now and we're done."
"Follow the lane until we come to a turn, then we can cross," suggested Ginger, in an almost inaudible whisper.
Biggles shook his head. "No use," he said. "The lane runs straight down to the water; we can't cross without being seen. We must wait."
They sat still, hardly daring to breathe, for what must have been half an hour, but it seemed like hours, and still the men showed no signs of moving. Biggles began to get anxious. "We shall have to risk it," he whispered at last. "We daren't waste any more time. It's two or three miles to the end of the lake, and it will start getting daylight presently."
"Let me try something," suggested Ginger. "I know a trick that may work. It's risky; that'
s why I haven't suggested it before. The second you hear a crash in the bushes dart across. Don't wait; it has to be done like lightning." He took his automatic from his pocket by the muzzle, fondled it a moment regretfully, and then, before the others were aware of his intention, he stepped into an open space and hurled it far into the air in the direction of the sentries. For perhaps five seconds, long enough for Biggles and Smyth to think he had taken leave of his senses, there was silence, and then a crash of twigs, followed by a thud as the weapon fell to the ground
well beyond the sentries. The moment it had left his hand he had dropped into the position of a sprinter at a starting-post, and the others, suddenly understanding, did the same. While the echoes of the crash were still in their ears, they darted across the open space to the black shadows beyond, and lay motionless wherever they happened to alight. There came a muttered exclamation from the track, and the sound of footsteps, running, footsteps that were obviously going farther away. There was a shout and an answering shout from the distance.
"O.K.," said Ginger softly; "they didn't see us. They were looking the other way—they wouldn't have been human if they hadn't."
"Pretty good," observed Biggles; "but why didn't you do it before?"
"Too risky. There's always the chance of the stone, or gun, as it was in this case, hitting a branch or something and falling in the wrong place. If my gun had fallen this side of those fellows, instead of the other side, where should we have been?"
"It didn't; that's all that matters," returned Biggles. "We shall have to hurry now; keep close together. I shall be glad when we get there."
"So shall I," muttered Ginger. "Crawling about in woods with keepers about is bad enough, but when you know that a gun might go off in your ear at any moment it gets past a joke."
"All right; that's enough. Quiet now."
Like three shadows flitting across the silent aisles of the forest, they continued on their way, always keeping the lake in sight. Once, a large creature leapt up in front of them and threw them into a momentary panic. Biggles' revolver was out in a flash, but he dropped the muzzle when he saw it was an animal—deer or wild hog, it was gone too quickly to see. Ginger had clutched Biggles' arm in his alarm, and loosed it sheepishly as they went on.
"Getting nervous?" asked Biggles, nudging Smyth.
"Nervous? No, I'm not nervous. I'm so frightened that if we don't soon get to this place we're going to, my hair will be white, and you'll have to find another name for me."
"We can't be far off now," Biggles assured him. His words proved to be true, for a couple of minutes later the lake swung round in a wide arc towards the opposite bank.
"Yes, this is the end," Biggles went on, after a quick survey. "We'll work round the bank a bit towards the middle, I think, and then we shall be in the dead centre of the northern end."
The ground under their feet began to get swampy, and forced them to choose a path a little farther from the water.
"We shall have to choose a hiding-place near a spot that is free from rushes, so that Algy can taxy right to the shore and pick us up; we don't want to have to wade out and get wet through; besides, we shall have no time to lose," observed Biggles. "What's this ahead? It looks like the ideal spot. Yes, this will do; we shan't find a better place." The spot at which they had halted was at the foot of a fairly steep bank, as if rough water had at some time eaten into the land, leaving an abrupt bank some five or six feet deep, from which the exposed roots of the trees hung out like the tentacles of an octopus. " There's nothing we can do now except wait," he continued. "It isn't worth while trying to sleep, as it should start getting light fairly soon; but if we don't soon find some food we shall be in a bad way."
"You've said it," agreed Ginger moodily. "I've never been so short of grub in my life." Slowly the stars faded and the eastern sky began to turn from black to grey; water-hens appeared on the water, and a dog began barking in the distance. Gradually the wan light grew stronger until it was light enough to see across the water to the seaplane station, about three miles away.
"He should be here any minute now," said Biggles.
A strong wind blew up from the south and drove the water on the bank, in waves of increasing size, but they were not large enough to affect the amphibian's landing. An hour passed, and Biggles rose to his feet with a worried frown on his face.
"He's a long time coming," he muttered.
The others did not answer. Ginger was chewing a grass-stalk reflectively. The sun rose higher, and they were grateful for its warmth, but still there was no sign of the amphibian. The morning wore on, but still it did not come, and Biggles suddenly faced the others squarely.
"Something's gone wrong," he said shortly. "If he was coming he would be here by now. It's no use pretending any longer; something has happened to him. Are you quite sure this was the place he meant, Smyth?"
"I'm certain of it, sir."
"This other lake—the one he was going to—isn't more than twenty miles away, is it?"
"Barely that, I should think."
"Well, we had better wait here a bit longer. Smyth, you watch the left bank, and you keep an eye on the right, Ginger. I'll guard the rear. If either of you see anyone, let me know."
CHAPTER XI
WHAT HAPPENED TO ALGY
ALGY'S troubles had begun almost immediately after his rush into the air to prevent the amphibian from falling into the hands of those he now classed as "the enemy." On the face of it his plan seemed feasible enough, and so in ordinary circumstances it would have been; but the circumstances were far from ordinary. He knew, of course, that machines were out, watching for the British amphibian; that was obvious from the actions of those who had spotted it, but not until he was in the air did he realize how widespread was the hue and cry. He flew due west at first, flying back over the ground that the amphibian had covered on its way out, but the appearance of a machine on the horizon directly in front of him made him turn quickly. The wind, he noticed, had swung round to the south, and was bringing up a good deal of low cloud, a fact which did not please him, as he was by no means certain of the position of the small lake, and reduced visibility would not make the task of finding it any easier.
He kept a watchful eye on the solitary machine, and was presently relieved to see it disappear behind a mass of cloud, flying, as far as he could make out, on a course diagonally away from his own. He turned again to his original route, but had no sooner done so than a two-seater of military type emerged from a cloud not a mile away.
" Confound it," he muttered irritably, as he dived into the nearest cloud, wondering if he had been seen. He came out on the other side of it and once more began to veer round towards the lake. The country over which he was flying, being entirely new to him, fur-nished very little useful information, for there was an unusual dearth of roads and railways, and even buildings, a fact which tended to confirm Biggles' idea that they were actually in Russia.
_ He saw yet another machine, but it was a long way away, and with his old-time instinct he placed himself between it and the now sinking sun, knowing that in that position it was highly improbable that he would be seen by the other pilot. "My word," he mused, " we've stirred up a hornet's nest and no mistake. This must be a pretty big thing if they have to turn out half the machines in Russia to look for us. We are going to have a bad time if we are caught, I can see that." The increasing urgency for getting the machine hidden, and then getting out of the country as quickly as possible, was apparent, and still flying with as much caution as he did during the war, he nearly collided head-on with a machine that burst out of the cloud in which he himself proposed to take cover whilst approaching his objective.
Which of the two pilots was the more surprised it is impossible to say. Both banked vertically to the right, as international regulations demanded in such circumstances, and then levelled out. Algy did not stop to examine the details of the machine that had nearly
-rammed him; he shoved the stick forward and raced towards the wide belt of low cloud that stretched across the sky to the west. Visibility or no visibility, the lake became a matter of secondary consideration in the face of the new peril.
The other machine was much faster than the amphibian, however, so the pilot overtook him rapidly and soon roared up alongside. Algy saw it was a two-seater, but it bore no registration marks of any sort; what interested him far more was the man behind a wicked-looking machine-gun. The gunner, seeing that Algy was watching him, held up his hand and beckoned, making it clear that
he was to follow; as an alternative he pointed to his gun in a manner that left no doubt as to his meaning.
Now, Algy had not the slightest desire to follow the other machine, but still less did he relish the idea of being shot to pieces by a modern quick-firing gun. Of the two evils he chose the lesser, and obediently altered his course to follow his captor, but he kept a watchful eye on the cloud-bank, now over his left shoulder, determined to make a dash for it the moment an opportunity presented itself. If the worst came to the worst he would try and show the menacing figure in the other plane a trick or two that he had acquired in the war-skies of Europe. Meanwhile his mind was working with its old-time rapidity, although the situation was a new one. He grinned at the other pilot, now not more than twenty yards away, but there was no answering smile.
"You miserable hound," he thought, "I should hate to serve in a squadron with a crowd of fellows like you."
Straight ahead the cloud-bank bulged out towards them, and he determined to make his attempt to escape as they passed it, for such an opportunity might not occur again; but the pilot of the other machine seemed to suspect his intention, for he began edging him farther away from the opaque mist.
"Oh, dash this for a fool's game," snarled Algy, suddenly losing his patience, and kicking out his left foot he jammed the stick forward and dragged it round to the left at the same time. The amphibian shot straight underneath its escort. Now, Algy knew better than to run straight for the cloud, for he was aware that the gunner would have his weapon turned on him before he could get out of range, so, using the speed he had accumulated in his dive, he pulled the stick back into his stomach and twisted up into the
" eye " of the sun.
For a moment the other pilot, unable to look in his direction without partially blinding himself, was at fault, as Algy hoped he would be, so seizing his chance, he pushed the stick forward and plunged down towards the cloud. The other saw him and gave chase immediately, but Algy's literally flying start had given him a lead of nearly a mile. Even so, it was touch-and-go, for once the other machine got into its stride it began to overtake him at an alarming rate, and bullets were whistling through the amphibian's planes as she roared down into the heart of the clammy moisture.
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