AT FLAMBEAU
Closer and closer they came to the mountains. Presently it was
possible to make out the different summits, all of them wrapped in a
blue haze.
"Do you know where Flambeau is, Jacques?" queried Earl.
"I do."
"We'll have to cross the firing line again, won't we?"
"Yes; pretty soon now too, I think."
"Do you know where it runs here?" asked Leon. "If it should follow the
top of some of these mountains we'd have to ascend much higher than we
are now to be out of range, wouldn't we?"
"We certainly would. Keep your eyes open and see if you can see any
signs of trenches; we ought to be pretty close now."
The foothills were below them now. The wooded slopes were cut and
gashed by gullies and ravines and now and then a fertile valley
appeared. The hills grew in size rapidly, however, and it was not long
before the mountains themselves were underneath them. Once or twice a
cloud wrapped them in its damp folds and it was with a feeling of
relief when they emerged into the sunlight again.
"Whew, it's cold," exclaimed Leon slapping his hands together.
"My hands are cold too," said Jacques. "You have the best of me though
for I can't warm them the way you are doing."
"Please don't try," laughed Earl. "I'd rather that you should have
cold hands than we should all go spinning down to earth."
"Well I'll--" Jacques began when Leon suddenly interrupted him.
"There are the trenches," he exclaimed. "See them? They run right
across that valley."
"That's right," agreed Jacques. "Let's see; we must be fairly close to
our destination by now." He consulted his map.
"I hope so," exclaimed Earl. "I'm cold and hungry."
"Right over that next summit," said Jacques. "If our luck only holds
out a few minutes longer we're all right."
They crossed the firing line which appeared very far away in the
distant valley. They passed over the summit of the mountain Jacques
had indicated and far below them they saw a tiny hamlet; a white church
with its pointed steeple stood in the center of the little cluster of
houses.
"There's Flambeau," announced Jacques.
"Good," cried Earl. "Where do we land? In that big field behind the
church?"
"That seems to be the only place, doesn't it?"
"As far as I can see it is," remarked Leon.
"All right," said Jacques. "Here we go."
The monoplane dipped and began to descend in great circles. The young
pilot shut off the motor and in silence, except for the noise of the
air rushing through the wings, it swooped downward.
Earl did not enjoy this as much as he had the previous flying. As they
came nearer and nearer to earth he could see the trees and fields
rushing past beneath them and the sensation of speed was very great.
He felt slightly nauseated and clung tightly to the sides of his seat.
Jacques was most skillful, however. He maneuvered the monoplane until
they were directly over the field where they intended to make a
landing. Then he suddenly shot downward until they were but a few
yards above the ground; suddenly he straightened out the machine and
they came to earth gracefully and without a jar. The monoplane ran
along the ground for a short distance and came to a stop.
A squad of soldiers in the blue uniform of France came hurrying forward
to greet the aviators.
"Is this Flambeau?" demanded Jacques of the corporal.
"It is," replied the man addressed.
"And Colonel Erhard is here?"
"He is. Do you wish to see him?"
"I have some most important dispatches for him."
"Of course you wish to deliver them to him in person?"
"Yes," said Jacques.
"If you will come with me," said the corporal, "I will conduct you to
him at once."
Jacques climbed out of the monoplane and set out across the field with
the corporal.
"We'll wait right here for you, Jacques," called Leon, as he and Earl
also stepped out of the machine and began to stretch their legs.
"Anglais?" queried one of the soldiers, hearing Leon speak in English.
"Américain," smiled Leon.
"_Bon_," exclaimed the man. "_Parlez-vous Francais_? _Je ne parle pas
l'Anglaise_." (Good. Do you speak French? I do not speak English.)
"_Un peu_" (a little), said Leon and he and his brother did their best
to carry on a conversation in French with their new friends.
It seemed that there had been spirited fighting for the last week along
that portion of the front. The men were of the opinion that the
attacks and counter-attacks thus far had been in the nature of feelers
and that both sides were searching for a weak spot in their opponent's
line. They all seemed to feel that a general offensive was about to be
undertaken and every man was convinced that the dispatches the three
young friends had brought were in some way connected with this movement.
The sun was warm in the field and the twin brothers spent a most
enjoyable hour talking with their new comrades. Like all the French
troops they were talkative, enthusiastic and hospitable. They were
eager for news; they were certain that France and her allies would be
victorious; they also brought hot coffee and sweet chocolate for the
young Americans. They were delighted to think that people from a land
so distant should think enough of France to fight for her in her
struggle for freedom and justice.
Leon and Earl were particularly interested to learn that large forces
of Russian troops were now fighting side by side with their allies on
the western front. They had not heard that there were Russian soldiers
in France, although such reports had often been freely circulated. A
soldier knows little about the war in which he fights; he sees what
takes place on the ground in the immediate vicinity of the place where
he is located but the general outcome or fortunes of battles he knows
nothing about. People at home or in neutral countries know much more
about the actual trend of the war than does the soldier who fights its
battles.
Finally Jacques went back to the monoplane and preparations for an
immediate return were made.
"All ready to go back?" he inquired cheerily.
"Yes," said Leon. "Did you deliver your dispatches all right?"
"Yes, indeed, and now we have nothing to think about except getting
back home to the _douzième_ once more."
"I'd hardly call it home," laughed Earl. "I hope there aren't as many
bullets and shells flying around our homes as there are around the
_douzième_. Home wouldn't be very comfortable under those
circumstances."
"Well we'd better start anyway," said Jacques. "All aboard!"
The boys quickly scrambled back to their places. The little group of
soldiers they were leaving wished them the best of luck and then the
machine started.
"Do you suppose we'll have as easy a trip home as we did coming?" asked
Earl as they began to soar higher and higher.
"We can go the long way if you want to," said Jacques.
"What do you think, Leon?" demanded Earl. "Don't you think we might as
well take the longer but the safer route on the return trip?"
"I don't see why not," exclaimed Leon. "We can fly just behind the
battle-line all the way back. I'd like to see what it looks like."
"So should I," agreed Jacques. "We'll do it then, only we'll have to
keep a mile or so behind the front."
"That's all right," exclaimed Earl. "We can see if we're a mile or so
high."
They had covered scarcely two miles from the village of Flambeau when
Leon suddenly spied another aeroplane.
"Look!" he cried excitedly. "There's another monoplane!"
"Where?" demanded Jacques.
"To your right."
One glance was enough for Jacques. His experienced eye immediately
identified the stranger and he turned to his two aides.
"That's a German flier," he remarked. "Get the machine-gun ready."
"What are you going to do?" demanded Earl eagerly.
"Chase him of course," said Jacques.