A CRUCIAL TEST.
Strong winds were raising clouds of chalky dust over the great seaport
when the boys caught their first glimpse of Odessa, the terraced city,
rising nearly 200 feet above the level of the surrounding steppes. By
all manner of conveyance, by land or water, but ever in continuous
motion, the Sergius party made remarkable progress from Petrograd to the
borders of the Black Sea. Behind the expedition was that power which, as
Billy observed, "makes the wheels go 'round."
The last leg of the journey landed the travelers at the basins of the
mighty rivers Dnieper and Dniester, upon which floated fleets of
Sergius' ships, and more of the same vessels controlled by the master of
money lay in the two harbors of the Bay of Odessa. These latter the boys
viewed from the head of the superb flight of steps descending from the
central square, adorned with a statue of Richelieu, to the sea. On the
chief embankment was the magnificent residence of Sergius, fronted by a
fine promenade.
"Some mixture in this town," remarked Henri, marking movement in Odessa
streets, through which they were passing--Great Russians, Little
Russians, French, Jews, Italians, Greeks, Roumanians, Servians,
Bulgarians, Tartars, Armenians, Lazes, Georgians, and so forth, and so
forth.
The Turk in his fighting clothes, however, was an acquaintance the young
aviators had yet to make--the time drawing nigh, though, and a veritable
storm of explosives to make the occasion memorable.
Billy and Henri were to work with the Black Sea air fleet, their expert
services as a contribution from Sergius, which made them, in a sense,
independent factors as pilots.
As untried recruits, and on account of their youth, the boys had the
usual doubt on the part of aviation chiefs to overcome--and, based upon
past experience, it is perfectly safe to anticipate that they passed the
crucial test, literally speaking, with "flying colors."
While the lads regretted that they would not have the No. 3's under them
in their trial trip, all types approaching the same lines looked alike
to them.
With two noted aerialists and high-range bomb-throwers, Lieutenants
Moppa and Atlass, behind them, within three days after their arrival in
Odessa, the newly assigned pilots set out in two specially designed
seaplanes for scout duty that would take them far across the waste of
waters.
The bombardment of Novorossisk was in progress as the aviators sped that
way, and the pilots were compelled to run at great altitude to clear the
mass of flames that lit the lowering sky for miles around. German
gunners in Turkish warships had shot a hundred oil tanks into blazes. At
Poti another Turkish cruiser was exchanging shells for the shore pepper
of machine guns, and cannon were thundering from the fortress of
Sevastopol.
Lieutenant Moppa, from the aircraft Billy was driving, sent down a
couple of bombs on the Turkish battleship "Midirli," but the missiles
missed and splashed into the sea far to the right of the vessel.
A couple of marine riflemen took a chance at the seaplane in return, and
more than one bullet flattened against the armored bottom and side of
the big flyer. The observer seemed to revel in the game, and shouted
defiance at the air, for with the hum of the motors the biggest voice
for distance counted no more than a penny whistle.
The officer at the rear of Henri, however, made himself heard by the
pilot, when directing attention to a cloud of smoke lifting high above
the lower strata of mist, and urging speed in that direction. It was a
Russian fleet hastening from its bombardment of Turkish Trebizond to
give battle to the Ottoman disturbers of the Russian coast line--"two,
three, four, five, six, seven," counted the aviators--all of them big
ships, and five smaller ones completing the naval procession.
At the two Turkish vessels, five miles away, the oncomers plugged big
shells at a lively rate, and about the craft under fire the aviators
could see that the water jumped and churned and rose in columns. To port
and starboard, fore and aft, above and below, there was nothing but shot
and shell. It looked like the Turks did not know which way to turn, but
by some hook or crook they got things to running smoothly, and made a
clean getaway.
The mist curtain had grown so dense that the aerial bomb-throwers did
little execution, in their turn, and soon abandoned pursuit of the
fleeing cruisers, pushing hard for the Turkish coast.
The seaplanes settled in the path of the rapidly approaching Russians,
and Billy and Henri rested after their introductory dash along a new
line of strenuous endeavor.
Billy turned to Lieutenant Moppa, with the inquiry:
"Did everything work all right?"
"As far as you are concerned," promptly advised the officer, "it could
not have been better managed. I was a little off, though, in the matter
of landing bombs in the right place."
The observer with Henri had just told the lad that he was engaged for
life.
The Russian warships, among which they were drifting, the boys learned,
were in the Slav naval movement to approach the strait of Bosphorus from
the north, and related to mighty effort of the allied forces to pound
their way through the Dardanelles on the other side--that the fleets of
all three powers might shell Constantinople from two directions.
"If we get through the Bosphorus, and I am wagering we will," said
Lieutenant Moppa as the seaplanes, side by side, gently undulated with
the waves, "it will be the first hostile fleet that has done the trick
for more than four centuries."
"It will be getting by some 120 guns, I have heard," remarked the
brother officer, "and they are pretty near all Krupps, shooting irons
not in the toy class."
"I remember once reading a five-cent tear-me-up entitled 'The Bride of
the Bosphorus; or, the Fourteen Corpses of the Caspian Sea,' and if the
passage is as exciting as that story, count me in."
This an aside from Billy to Henri.
While the boys were having a quiet chuckle to themselves, the flagship
of the fleet showed signal to forge ahead, and the pilots of the
seaplanes went to work again.
There was a night journey ahead, but with many searchlights sweeping
both sea and sky, it was not a blind-going proposition.
The naval program included an issue with Fort Killis, about six miles
from the entrance of the Bosphorus, where the Turks had a battery of
6-inch Krupp guns.
It was up to the aeroplanists to look over the situation in advance,
with additional responsibility of keeping themselves well out of the
range of the big shooting irons, one straight aim of which would bring
the lofty sailing party a very chilly trip clear to the bottom of the
sea.
In the early morning the seaplanes quit the company of the warships to
essay the exceedingly perilous reconnoiter.
The battery which the air scouts sought to accurately locate was
constructed in, or, rather, under a cliff, and flying high and
immediately overhead the observer had scant opportunity to size up the
real strength and range of the masked position. To win a look worthy of
record it was decided to chance an 80-mile-an-hour spurt across the sea
front.
If the gunners were a little slower than the aviators, it was all to the
good for the latter--if the reverse, the Black Sea air fleet would be
reduced just so many.
With all the power in the motors applied, the seaplanes swept by the
face of the cliff, the observers mentally gathering every detail through
straining eyes, and the pilots equally intent in planning the lightning
swerve that would baffle the men from behind the Krupps.
Out and away! One gun belched fire--then another--now the whole half
dozen or more--with the crack of rifles in between the heavier
detonations.
The terrific speed, and the skilful manipulation of the seaplanes that
prevented the presentation at any time of a broadside target, soon
safely carried the daring airmen far out to sea.
Reporting to the admiral of the fleet, Lieutenants Moppa and Atlass
presented Billy Barry and Henri Trouville with such glowing words of
commendation that the lads quit the quarterdeck with very red faces.
An hour later the warships were throwing projectiles that showered
splinters of rock all over the masked position. The Russian assault upon
the Bosphorus had begun.