SWEEPING THROUGH THE SKY
The morning on which the boys were to take their aerial excursion
dawned clear and bright, being indeed, as Blake remarked, “made to
order.” The two boys had watched the weather anxiously for the last
day or two, as nobody knew better than they the necessity of clear,
sunshiny weather for the making of good pictures. But this day was all
that could be desired, and immediately after breakfast the two friends,
carrying their cameras and other essential equipment, reported at the
aeroplane hangars. Arrangements had been made to supply them with a
machine and pilot, and when they arrived they found a big bi-plane
already out, with a mechanic putting the last touches to the engine,
and a very capable looking pilot standing alongside. For lack of room
Charlie had been forced to stay behind.
“Guess you’re my two passengers, all right,” remarked the pilot, with
a smile, as Joe and Blake walked up to him. “It doesn’t take any
detective to tell that, when you have these cameras slung over your
shoulders.”
“No, they’re a dead give-away,” smiled Blake, “and they’re loaded for
some pretty exciting pictures to-day, too. We’ve taken them about every
other way there is to take pictures, and now we’re very much interested
in this method.”
“Well, it probably won’t be half as exciting as you think,” remarked
the aviator, whose name was Trent. “People who aren’t used to flying
seem to think that there is nothing but thrills to it, but, in point of
fact, after you get used to it, it’s rather monotonous than otherwise.”
“Well, I guess it isn’t very monotonous when somebody is taking pot
shots at you with an anti-aircraft gun, is it?” inquired Joe, who was
inclined to be somewhat incredulous of the airman’s statement.
“Oh, of course, circumstances alter cases,” laughed Trent, “but I’m
just speaking of ordinary patrol duty, or something along that line.
If you’d been at this game as long as I have, you’d feel the same way,
I’ll bet.”
The two friends were inclined to attribute this point of view more to
the aviator’s modesty than anything else, but before they could argue
the point, the mechanic reported “all ready,” and Trent climbed into
the pilot’s seat, at the same time indicating to the boys the places
that had been prepared for them. It did not take them long to adjust
themselves and their cameras to their satisfaction, and when this was
done, the pilot gave the word to the mechanic to crank the engine. A
quick whirl of the propeller, a few spasmodic barks from the engine,
and then a steady roar as the powerful motor “took hold.” The aeroplane
moved forward over the smooth grass, slowly at first, but with
ever-increasing speed. When they had traversed about a hundred yards,
the pilot gave a quick move to one of his controlling levers, and the
big machine lifted lightly into the air and soared upward. Without any
reflection on the courage of Blake and Joe, it may be said that they
both gripped their seats with somewhat unnecessary force, in view of
the fact that they were securely strapped in anyway, and could not by
any possibility have fallen out.
But this sensation soon wore off, and the boys began to enjoy the
novelty of the thing. The machine was mounting steadily, for the first
few minutes, but soon reached the desired height, and then flew along
parallel with the earth’s surface. They were flying in the direction
of the German lines, and in a very short time the boys decided that
they were near enough to start photographing. Accordingly, they
focused their cameras, and were soon winding the film through the
machines as unconcernedly as they had ever done on _terra firma_. It
was impossible to talk to each other or the pilot, so great was the
noise of the motor, but they had received explicit orders as to what
was expected of them, and each one of them did his task in the best
possible way.
On this first trip the pilot had been instructed not to fly over the
German lines, but, when he reached them, to take more of a parallel
course, and this he accordingly did.
It was a wonderful panorama that lay spread out below them, and the
boys were filled with the artist’s delight at having such a tremendous
view to film. Reel after reel they put through their cameras, until
their supply was at last exhausted. When this happened, Blake leaned
over until his mouth was close to the pilot’s ear, and shouted:
“All right, old man! We’ve got all we came for!”
Their airman nodded his head in token of understanding, and swept the
machine around in a great circle, banking at so steep an angle that
the boys held their breath until the machine was again upon a level
keel. Then he straightened out on a straight line for home, and in
what seemed an incredibly short space of time, was circling over the
aviation field preparatory to making a landing. Lower and lower went
the big machine, until, with hardly a jar, its rubber-tired wheels
took the earth, and in another hundred feet it had come to a standstill.
“Well,” said the aviator, looking around at them with a grin, “how did
you enjoy your ride? Get the pictures all right?”
“It was a wonderful experience,” said Blake, “like nothing else in the
world. As far as the pictures go, one can never be sure until the films
are developed. But I was so taken up with turning the crank that I
didn’t have time to really enjoy the sensation of flying,” he added.
“Well, that’s considerably different from what most of the people I’ve
taken up say,” said Trent. “As a general thing, they’re so absorbed in
wondering whether or not they’ll ever get back to the good old earth
again, that they don’t have time for anything else.”
“After you’ve been mixed up in this war awhile, you get into the habit
of doing what you set out to do, and not worrying much about the danger
that goes with it,” remarked Blake, and the aviator nodded acquiescence.
The boys then proceeded to remove their apparatus from the aeroplane,
and after taking a hearty leave of the airman, they proceeded back to
headquarters. Arrived there, they reported, and turned in their new
films to be developed.
“We’ll have more work for you along the same line,” they were informed
by their commanding officer. “Report early to-morrow morning, and I’ll
give you your instructions.”
The boys saluted, and when they got outside, compared notes as to their
sensations on their first flight.
“There’s nothing to compare it to, though,” lamented Joe at last. “When
you take a fast auto ride, or something along that line, you say it’s
just like flying, but when you have actually been up in the air, you
find that it’s like nothing else under the sun.”
“It’s still ‘just like flying,’” smiled Blake, and with this they had
to be content.
“Wonder what’s on the programme for to-morrow,” speculated Joe.
“Something seems to tell me that we’re booked for another trip through
the air.”
“Guess likely,” agreed Blake. “If those pictures we took to-day turn
out all right, it’s pretty likely they’ll want more of them.”
“Well, I guess we’re the boys to get them,” said Joe, and the two fast
friends smiled in mutual confidence and understanding.