Nearing Liege on their return journey, the airmen became aware of a
momentous change from the peaceful scene of the morning. A pall of
smoke hung over the country for miles. Wherever there were rifts in it,
they caught glimpses of immense grey masses that appeared to be crawling
towards the city from every side except the west. It was evident that
the Germans were attacking in stupendous force.
Kenneth steered to the west, doubtful whether he should find the
headquarters of the Flying Corps in the spot where he had left it. The
monoplane escaped the Germans' attentions, and when it came within range
of the Belgians' rifles, Pariset hung out the Russian flag, which was
his surety.
Locating the aeroplane park with some difficulty, considerably to the
westward of its former position, Kenneth at length brought the machine
to the ground. The air quivered with the shock of artillery fire; the
noise was incessant.
"What is the news?" asked Pariset of a comrade who had come up to greet
him.
"They are shelling us with heavy guns, and devoting particular attention
to Fort Loncin, where General Leman is," was the reply. "And it is said
that they have got into the town. The people are making off in
crowds.... You have had a knock!"
"A slight bruise. We managed it!"
"What?" asked his friend, who was unaware of his errand.
"Blew up the bridge above Sy, and held back a troop train, for the rest
of the day, I hope. I must go and report to the chief; tell you all
about it later."
In giving in his report Pariset did not fail to emphasise the hazardous
part that Kenneth had had in the operation. The commandant complimented
them both, and made an entry against Kenneth's name in his notebook.
Then he said:
"We have had our first encounter with a Zeppelin, and unluckily had the
worst of it. The Zeppelin was reconnoitring, and Boissel went in
pursuit. The crew opened fire with their machine guns when he was
manoeuvring for position, and a shot smashed his arm. He managed to
land, and then collapsed. The machine was slightly buckled up in coming
to ground, and will be useless for a day or two."
"I'm sorry for Boissel," said Pariset. "He will be cut up at being
knocked out so soon. Has the Zeppelin been seen since?"
"No. The forts opened fire upon it, apparently without success, for it
sailed away to the north-east."
"Shall we tackle it if it comes back?" Pariset asked eagerly.
"Hadn't you better rest? You have done a good day's work already, and I
don't want to lose you as well as Boissel."
"To tell the truth, our job at the bridge has whetted my appetite, and I
am sure Amory is ready for another go."
"Whenever you please," said Kenneth.
"Very well," said the commandant. "But I beg that you won't be rash.
Boissel was a little too eager--a pardonable fault; but prudence is a
positive merit."
"We will be discretion itself," said Pariset.
Kenneth smiled; he did not know Boissel, but he could not imagine any
airman more likely to show reckless daring than his friend.
They snatched a meal, then set about their preparations. The Zeppelin
being manned with a numerous crew armed with rifles and machine guns,
and equipped for bomb-throwing, it was axiomatic that the aeroplane must
try to accomplish by superior speed, climbing power, and manageability
what it could not hope to achieve by force. If it were a mere question
of manoeuvring the advantage would lie with the aeroplane. The Zeppelin
would be at a disadvantage in that it presented a bulkier target.
After a hurried discussion--for the Zeppelin might return at any
moment--the two airmen decided to get a number of bombs with time fuses,
and to fix in front of the pilot's seat a small petrol lamp, sheltering
it from the wind by a zinc screen that would almost enclose it; the fuse
could be lit from this.
"It won't be wise to trust to bombs exploding by contact," he explained.
"They might miss the mark, big as it is; and the envelope of the airship
is so fragile that it is quite possible for a bomb to pass through it
without exploding."
"But wouldn't the gas escape through the rent, and the thing collapse?"
Kenneth asked.
"The envelope consists of several compartments, and one might be injured
without affecting the others."
"You won't try rifle shots?"
"Very little use, my son. We should only bore a few holes in it. Their
Mausers would be much more dangerous to us. We shouldn't have the
slightest chance against them, any more than a torpedo boat would have
against a Dreadnought, so far as armament is concerned. But I am simply
panting for the chance to match the aeroplane against the airship. I
hope they'll come back."
"I dare say they will, having got off scot free before. We must be
ready to fly off at a moment's notice. The Zeppelin is very fast, I've
heard."
"But no match for my machine. We'll use that instead of the Taube. I'm
more used to it; it is faster and better for bomb-dropping."
"You won't pilot it, surely!"
"Indeed I shall! My arm doesn't bother me much, and you know I have had
much more experience than you."
"I've had absolutely no experience of bomb-throwing," Kenneth protested.
"Well, you play golf, don't you? Do you remember the first time you
went round?"
"Yes. Why?"
"Simply that, like everybody else, you probably got round in fewer
strokes than you did for months afterwards."
"That's true; and very sickening it is. I'll do my best, then."
When everything was ready, they sat on the grass beside the aeroplane,
scanning the sky for the Zeppelin. Kenneth, it must be confessed, was
less impatient than Pariset, whose mercurial temperament ill-brooked a
waiting game. He was constantly up and down, snatching up his
field-glasses every few seconds, "fidgeting about," as Kenneth said to
himself.
It was drawing towards evening when, just as Pariset had dropped his
field-glasses with a gesture of annoyance, a messenger came running from
the commandant to say that the Zeppelin had been sighted.
"How does he know?" asked Pariset, incredulously.
"He had word by field telephone," was the answer. "The airship is
coming from the north-east."
Pariset instantly started his engine. But before the aeroplane was
aloft, the airship appeared in the distant sky, like a torpedo of the
air. There was a certain fascination in its swift and steady approach,
growing bigger and bigger to the sight. Its course would bring it
within half a mile of the portable sheds; perhaps its object was to
destroy the Belgian aeroplanes.
Having a reasonable respect for the Zeppelin's machine guns, Pariset at
first kept well away from its course. He bore to the east, so as to
avoid a direct meeting with it, and to get between it and its base. That
the aeroplane had already been seen from the airship, high above it, was
proved by the smack of several bullets upon parts of its structure; but
they had not heard the crackle of the rifles, what with the whirr of
their engine and the incessant thunder of artillery.
Comparing notes afterwards, they agreed that their first impression was
wonder at the speed and accuracy with which the Germans had got their
range. Pariset at once flew off at a wider angle, trusting to his
superior speed to carry him out of danger until he had had time to rise
above the Zeppelin. He could climb only gradually, if he was to take
full advantage of his speed. It was nearly ten minutes before Kenneth
reported that they were about equal with it in height. The airship was
now at least two miles astern, and had slightly altered its direction.
Pariset now swung round. He guessed that the Zeppelin was making for
Fort Loncin, probably to reconnoitre, for its bombs would have little or
no effect on the armoured cupola of the fort. Flying back, he steered
so as to approach the airship on its flank, and succeeded in his aim of
showing the enemy that the aeroplane was to be reckoned with. It again
altered its course; Pariset shifted his rudder also; and the Zeppelin
gave chase.
Bullets whistled around the aeroplane, which by this time had risen
several hundred feet higher than the enemy. Adjusting his planes to
secure the maximum lift, Pariset began to climb steeply, and for some
minutes the Zeppelin gained on him in horizontal direction. But the
rapidity of his ascent rendered the task of its marksmen very difficult;
and they seemed to realise that they were themselves in danger, for they
altered their course, bearing to the east, as if they had abandoned the
chase.
The parts were now reversed. The aeroplane became the hunter, the
airship the hunted. Still rising, Pariset gradually reduced the
horizontal distance between them, gaining assistance from the manoeuvres
of the Zeppelin, which yawed now and again in order to bring its guns to
bear more effectively, thus losing pace. The aeroplane began to close
in with it, and Pariset suddenly became aware that he was closing in too
rapidly, for the airship either stopped her engines or reduced their
speed. Before he had time to meet the manoeuvre he had come within
effective range. Bullets pattered around like hail, and only by a swift
wheeling movement did he escape destruction.
Learning caution, he rose still higher, until he estimated that he was
at least 3000 feet above the enemy. At this elevation the swelling bulk
of the envelope rendered the machine guns useless, and there was indeed
little chance of the aeroplane's being hit even by the rifles.
Pariset's object was now to get as nearly as possible vertically above
the Zeppelin, which the Zeppelin could only prevent by constantly
changing its course and its speed. But Pariset was an adept in the
handling of his machine. He watched every twist and turn of the enemy,
and seemed to Kenneth to anticipate them, as a skilful boxer anticipates
the feints and rallies of his opponent.
"Get ready!" he shouted to Kenneth at last. "A twenty-second fuse!"
Kenneth grasped the bomb, leaning over his seat ready to drop it at the
word. He had lost all sense that this was warfare, and throbbed with
the same excitement as stirs the batsman or the three-quarter.
"Now!" cried Pariset.
The bomb fell plumb, but at the same instant the Zeppelin checked, and
the bomb burst many yards ahead, though whether above or below the
airship he could not tell. Pariset at once wheeled round, and within a
few seconds brought his machine once more above the enemy. At the
critical moment Kenneth dropped a second bomb. There was a flash and a
burst of smoke and metal between the two vessels, momentarily hiding the
lower from view. But that no harm had been done was proved by the
Zeppelin shooting ahead on another tack.
"A little too far away," cried Pariset. "No time to descend. Throw the
next, don't drop it."
In its efforts to escape the fate which threatened it the Zeppelin was
now keeping a straight course. Its skipper evidently realised that in
moving from side to side it enlarged the area of possible disaster. A
third time the aeroplane soared over it, and though its engines were
instantly stopped, its length was fatal. Kenneth threw the bomb with
all his force. The result evoked from Pariset a shout of exultation.
The bomb burst a few yards to the right of the airship. For a second or
two the effect of the explosion was, as it were, in suspense. Then
there was a burst of flame; the body of the enormous vessel beneath them
slowly crumpled up; with incredible rapidity it lost all shape; the
formless mass became smaller to their sight; and in a few seconds a
cloud of dust at an incalculable distance below showed the now horrified
airmen where the wreck had struck the earth.
[Illustration: THE END OF THE ZEPPELIN]