THE MIGHT OF MILITARISM.
It was some time later that Jack began to realize that he was a prisoner
and borne on a giant aeroplane.
How did he get there?
Try as he would he could not answer that question. He gazed about him.
Away in the distance he could distinguish small specks of light, which,
were they not moving so rapidly about space, he would have mistaken for
stars.
Below searchlights swept the horizon. Here and there were the
glimmerings of fast dying out camp-fires. Suddenly a faint streamer of
red light shot high into the air, held steadily for a moment, and then
broke into a million colored globules.
"A signal," thought Jack. "I wonder if it will be answered."
He then became aware of a movement on the part of the air pilot. Till
that moment he had not noticed the least sign of life from the wheel
man. Now there came a soft _blob_ and a red light shot into the air.
Almost instantly there again was darkness.
"By Jove!" whispered Jack to himself, amazedly. "This certainly is
marvelously fast work!"
There was no repetition of the signals.
For a while Jack was content to gaze about him in idle wonder. He seemed
indifferent to his plight. He drank in the scenes about him, gazed
interestedly at other air-craft that passed them, and watched the sky
begin to turn a dull slate color. It was the dawn of another day of
carnage.
Others, too, were on the watch for these faint signs of day. From
somewhere came the long, awful boom of a huge cannon.
Jack tried to get up, but fell back to his former position. He only then
realized that he was chained to his seat. He had a certain amount of
freedom, but beyond that he was a prisoner, helpless.
"Well," mused Jack upon this discovery, "even if my hands and feet were
free, I could not escape from this height. We must land some time, and
then I'll have more need to use them."
So Jack settled back to watch developments. Now everything was astir. A
faint murmur was wafted to him on the morning breeze.
He could see the soldiers moving about, the great cannons and howitzers
beginning to lumber onward, the column of Uhlans already in saddle, and
the hundreds of air-craft rising to greet the early sun's rays.
"It's wonderful!" whispered Jack, fascinated. "Yes, wonderful, but how
terrible! This whole array is primed to create nothing but havoc,
sorrow, destruction, and death! Gee, but I'm glad the good old United
States has no need for such military organization!"
Another sound came to his ears, and cut short his thoughts of America.
In an astonishingly brief time, the Army of the Invasion had completed
its formations and was on the march, the rank and file, all
deep-throated men, singing _Das Fatherland_.
"Good God!" gasped Jack. "They are going to their death with a song on
their lips!"
From somewhere in front of these columns came a roar of cannon. The air
was filled with shrill, piercing shrieks as tons upon tons of metal,
charged with fearful destructive powers, tried to stem the human flood.
For a few minutes the smoke and steam hid the dreadful spectacle from
Jack. He gazed intently below him, anxious to see the victor of this
clash.
Of course, it must not be forgotten that the human waves of men were
supported by great artillery fire on their own side. Unaided entirely
these men would have been annihilated miles before the fortresses.
The ranks were on the double run now. Their bayonets glistened in the
dull sunlight. On, on, ever on, they went, keeping perfect stride, never
faltering.
Jack could not tear his eyes from the sight.
Even while storming the redoubt, the ranks held firm. Another sheet of
flame checked them for a moment. They tried to recover, and somehow
couldn't. Again came that destructive, raking fire. The lines faltered.
Jack trembled from excitement. Was this magnificent effort to fail? He
was not thinking of them as Germans. He was only aware of brave,
dauntless men trying to best steel and explosives.
Again came a sheet of flame.
The ranks actually seemed to fall back.
Then once more, from the rear, rose the deep notes of _Das Fatherland_.
It stiffened the thinned ranks. They rushed forward, the fierce cry of
victory mingling with the strains of their national anthem.
"That was great!" cried Jack. "My sympathies are not very strongly with
the Germans, but I'm bound to give credit where credit is due. Well,
what now----?"
Jack became aware that the machine on which he was a prisoner was going
to make a landing. Silently, swiftly, the winged mechanism was guided
toward earth behind the German lines.
Jack smiled with satisfaction.
"I'll have a chance to stretch my legs," he said. "As long as Radwig is
dead, I have not so much to fear. I wonder what they want of me?"