THE MONOPLANE
Looking down from above, as he was doing, it was hard for Frank to keep
his bearings at all. Naturally, everything looked very different. He had
been used to looking up at houses, and had had them in one plane. Now
everything was flat before him. In the day time the resemblance of the
country as he now saw it to a map might have helped him. But at night,
even on a clear night, things were blurred. Fences and roads ran
together confusedly. And this night was not clear. The day had been
fair, but now clouds were coming up.
"We'll have some rain, hang it!" said Greene. "The firing seems to bring
it. At least that's what they say. Wonder if it's true? I suppose it
might."
"I should think it might be a good thing," said Frank. "It'll make it
harder for them to see us, won't it! And that ought to help us."
"Yes, but it'll make it a good deal harder for us to see what we're
after, too. Cuts both ways, you see. Still I don't mind as long as we
don't have fog or wind, and I think I'd rather have the wind. You know
where you're at with wind, anyway. In a fog--Lord! You've no idea what a
thing fog is until you've tried to make a landing in it."
With the motor muffled down, they were able to talk easily. In the
earlier days of aeroplanes the motor made so much noise that anything
like a sustained conversation was impossible. But now the motor only
purred gently in their ears, just like that of a motor car. For military
purposes the silence thus obtained more than made up for the slight
sacrifice of power. The more old-fashioned 'planes, many of which were
still in use, advertised their presence to an enemy as soon as they came
at all near. But this new type, largely used by the British and the
French, as Frank knew, had to be seen before they were in any danger,
so silently do they wing their flight.
"Talking about fog," Greene went on, talking as indifferent as if they
had been on solid ground, "I had a nasty experience just before Kaiser
Bill started this trouble. Went up at Sheerness, for an experimental
flight in this same 'plane. First time I'd had her out, and I didn't
know her very well. And one of those old-fashioned sea fogs came rolling
in when I was ten miles from anywhere. Never saw anything so sudden in
my life!"
"How did you find your way, sir?"
"I didn't! I just went up and up until I was above the fog and in the
sunlight. You can do that, you know. But that was a queer fog--rose a
whole lot. Anyway, when I got above it, it was precious cold. And the
sun didn't do me much good. I'd got lost, so far as my bearings below
were concerned, making spirals as I went up. What I hoped for was to
find out something when I was above the fog."
"How was that? You mean that the fog would only spread over a certain
distance?" he asked.
"That's it exactly. Only I didn't know that fog! So far as I could tell,
it spread over all England and Ireland, too, with some left over for
France! Only one thing for it, of course. I knew I'd get away from it if
I kept on flying. So I steered by the sun as well as I could, and kept
on until my petrol began to run short, and a cylinder began missing. And
then, just as I was wondering whose windows I'd break when I went down,
it began to thin out, and slipped away as quickly as it had come. And I
was right above the golf links on Wimbledon Common. I volplaned down,
and landed on a putting green, and an old colonel who'd been invalided
home from India said I'd done it on purpose, and he was going to have me
court-martialled!"
Frank laughed heartily at the story. But at the same time, he suspected
Captain Greene's purpose in telling it. He thought the captain wanted to
keep his spirits up, and make him forget that he had never had a flight
before, and he admired and liked him more than ever in consequence,
even though, as he told himself, it wasn't necessary.
"Hello! I think we're getting near your spot, young 'un," said Greene,
abruptly. He dipped down, and Frank peered down to see where they were.
"Yes," he cried, in assent. "There's the hill we were coming down when
we saw them, just as we rounded that turn. That's the road they were
marching along, and there, over to our left, are the woods. I wonder if
they're still there."
"We'll soon know," said Greene. "Now for a little climbing. I'm not
afraid of being hit, but orders are to find them without being seen, if
we can manage it. So we'll try the high spots for a bit."
At once the monoplane began climbing, ascending in great spirals. Frank
was absorbed by the sensation. He found that he could see the ground
receding without feeling any qualms, and said so.
"You're lucky," said Greene, briefly. "Made me feel queer first few
times I tried it, I can tell you. You're probably a born flyer--and the
chances are you'll never do much of it, I suppose! Always the way!"
Frank, looking down, saw that they were moving away from the woods which
they were to reconnoitre, and mentioned it.
"Got to," said Greene, briefly. "Then we'll fly back. We can't climb in
a straight line. When I went out for altitude once, I made twelve
thousand feet, and when I finished climbing I was nearly fifteen miles,
in a straight line, from where I started. Let's see. Got that flashlight
I gave you? Play it right on the board there till I tell you to stop."
Frank obeyed, shooting the little spear of light on the various
instruments in front of the aviator.
"All right. Hold it there. My barograph, you see. Gives me my height by
showing the change in atmospheric pressure. That's how we calculate
height. Not very exact, because all sorts of things vary the pressure.
But it's near enough. A thousand feet! That's good enough. I don't
believe they're looking for us. We don't usually scout behind our own
lines."
Now he brought the monoplane around in a great sweep and flew straight
over the woods. But, though Frank looked down through powerful navy
night glasses, of the sort that are used for look-out duty at sea, he
could see nothing.
"Clasp them around my head--so," said Greene. "See the trick? All right!
Now I'll have a look. There's another pair in my pocket--use those for
yourself."
But if the Germans were there, they were concealing their presence with
a good deal of care and skill.
"Have to go lower, then," decided Greene. "Get ready! We'll shoot the
chutes now."
He pointed the monoplane straight down, cut out his motor, and glided
earthward in a glorious volplane, the most wonderful sensation that even
flight, with all its wonders, can afford. When the earth seemed about to
come up and hit them, though it was still actually a good five hundred
feet below, he caught the machine, righted it, and started the motor
again. Then he had to fly back until he was again directly over the
woods, and once more, while the monoplane moved very slowly, they peered
down. But still there was no sign.
"Humph!" said Greene. "If they were supposed to be anything but Germans,
I'd say you'd told us a cock and bull story, young 'un! English troops,
or French, would show some sort of a light. Some fool would take a
chance to get a smoke. But these Germans! They're not men--they're
machines. They'll obey orders that officers wouldn't take the trouble to
give in any other army. We'll have to make sure. Up we go again!"
Frank could not see how going up would make it possible for them to get
the information that coming down hadn't afforded. But he said nothing,
because he had come to feel by this time that when Captain Greene did a
thing he had a perfectly sound reason for his action. Nor was he wrong.
Once more they climbed in a high spiral curve until they were higher
than they had been before. For the first time, Frank now felt a peculiar
ringing in his ears. He mentioned it, and Greene laughed.
"Pressure," he said. "You'll get used to it! Lord, sometimes I've felt
as if my head would burst when I started to climb. But it doesn't last
long. Feel in the seat there beside you, at your left. There ought to be
a big electric torch."
"Here it is! I've got it, sir," said Frank, a moment later.
"All right. Touch the button at the end. Let's see if it lights up
properly."
It did, decidedly, for the result was a blinding glare.
"Pretty powerful, isn't it?" said Greene. "It's used for signalling, you
see. Flash the light, and you can reproduce Morse perfectly. When you're
high up it can be seen a long way, too. Now hold it straight down and
flash it, then give a steady glare. Let us see if we cannot draw
anything."
Frank obeyed, at the same time getting a glimpse of Greene's idea. He
held the torch pointing straight down, and saw the beam of light
shooting straight down. It was not powerful enough, of course, by the
time it reached the treetops, to illuminate them, and so make anything
below visible, but it was certainly strong enough to be observed from
below, he thought. But still there was no movement, and the uncanny
silence and darkness below persisted.
"All right. There's still another chance," said Greene, patiently. He
drew a revolver from his pocket.
"Flash your little light this way. Let me see if it's all right," he
said.
Frank obeyed.
"New fangled automatic--very powerful, and shoots a .44 bullet almost as
far as an old-fashioned rifle," explained Greene. "Very useful if one
runs into another 'plane unexpectedly--and the other fellow happens to
be a German."
A moment later he opened fire, shooting straight downward. He could not
aim, of course, but it was not his object to hit anything. He emptied
one clip of cartridges, and before the last shot was fired the woods
below began to spit fire. At once the monoplane began racing.
"Got 'em!" cried Greene, exultingly. "I thought that would do it! It
isn't human nature to be under fire without sending back a shot or
two--not even German human nature!"
No bullets came near them, but there was no longer any possible doubt
that the Germans were below. The fusillade had settled that. Greene
slowed down.
"Show your light quickly, then douse it at once," he cried.
Frank flashed the light of the big torch for an instant. And at once the
monoplane shot forward.
"See the point?" cried Greene. "They'll aim at where the light was. Only
we won't be obliging enough to be there! Well, this is a good night's
work, my lad! You were right, and if I'm not much mistaken, you'll get
your name in dispatches for this. The beggars! I'd like to know how they
got through without being spotted!"
All the time the monoplane was racing away. But suddenly there was a
sharp crack behind them, and in an agony of concern Greene twisted
around in his seat.
"Oh, Lord!" he groaned. "I crowed too soon! That's the petrol
tank--bullet hole! It'll leak out, and we can't stop the leak!"
"If you went down right away, would it all get out before you reached
the ground?"
"No, but they'll catch us if we go down here. Can't do that."
"It's the only chance!" said Frank. "Isn't it?"
"You're right. I'll take it. Good boy! You don't mind the risk?"
"No!" said Frank.
Then they were rushing down. It was a desperate venture. Greene pointed
for a field, but in the darkness the risk of capture by the Germans was
the least that they faced.
Greene had cut out his engine; there was too much danger of an
explosion, with the leaking petrol, to allow the spark to continue. He
had to volplane down this time, not as a quick way of descending, but as
the only means of preventing a disastrous fall. Even in broad daylight
there is always risk in landing with a dead motor. Here, in the darkness
and with unknown country below, the risk was multiplied a hundred times.
All that Greene knew with any certainty was that he was over country
broken up into fields. The fences were numerous, there were ditches,
too, and obstructions of all sorts. The larger ones he could see readily
enough, when he got close; it was the smaller ones that threatened the
real danger.
But if the danger was great, Greene was a master of his craft. He
swooped downward. Then, when he was scarcely a hundred feet up, he
caught the machine with a fine show of skill and held it, for a moment,
on an even keel.
"We'll chance it in the next field," he called. "Can't stay up any
further. Here goes!"
Down, down, they went. Then they were down, bumping along. But the
element of luck that, despite all his skill, Greene had to have, favored
him. The field was smooth and the monoplane came to rest safely. In an
instant both were out, Greene first, since Frank, having to free himself
from his straps, was delayed.
"Quick! The small flashlight!" called the flyer. "Here, give it to me!
If we're to save any essence we've got to be quick!"
He took the light. But a quick look over the tank failed to show a
spurting stream of gasoline.
"By Jove! Wonder if I could have been mistaken? Perhaps it was something
else they hit!" cried Greene. But then he groaned. As he unscrewed the
cap of the tank and peered in, he saw that it was bone dry.