THE AERIAL MAP-MAKER.
"He's flying pretty high, let me tell you," said Tubby, straining his
neck in an endeavor to watch the evolutions of the far-distant object
sailing on the border of the cloud, and which looked so much like a
great bird with outstretched wings.
"And all the while he is using his powerful field-glass to watch things
going on below," added Rob. "I wouldn't be surprised if those chaps make
a rough map, as they go over a place, with the position of forts marked,
and the disposition of troops. In this war they say aeroplanes and
dirigibles are going to play great stunts."
"Think of the nerve of that German aviator, sailing right over Antwerp
in broad daylight!" Tubby declared. "It's a dare, all right, and I
wonder if any of these Belgian fliers will take him up. I really think
I'd like to see a little scrap up in the air. We didn't have a chance
for anything of that sort since we were down in Mexico with Villa."
"Well," returned Merritt, "you may see more of that kind of business
over here than you want. These fliers don't go circling around just to
spy on the enemy. In lots of cases they have another and more terrible
mission."
"Oh!" ejaculated the fat scout uneasily, "now you're thinking of that
visit paid by a Zeppelin to Antwerp a short time back when it dropped a
bomb that smashed things to flinders. They say it was aimed at the
king's palace. But you don't think now that fellow away up there in the
clouds would bother dropping explosives on our heads, do you, Rob?"
Tubby always appealed to the patrol leader when bothered about anything.
To hear him talk you would imagine that he considered Rob Blake a
walking encyclopedia, and capable of answering any kind of question.
"No, he's flying too high for that," the other told him confidently.
"You see, with the air currents, that we know something about ourselves,
no one at that height could count on landing his explosive anywhere
near the place he wanted it to go. Chances are that chap is only out on
a spying trip. Aeroplane pilots are the scouts of the air these days,
you understand. Nothing can be hidden from them."
"I understand," ventured Merritt, as they continued to watch the
circling of the lofty observer and map-maker, "that there can be no
surprises in this war, because the enemy always knows all about the
massing of troops long before an attack can be delivered. An eagle or a
hawk, hovering over shallow water, can see every bit of bottom when the
surface is still, and so he's able to pounce down on the fish he's
selected for dinner. These wonderful air-pilots will bring information
of every contemplated move on the part of the enemy."
"Poor old Napoleon would be a back number in these days," Tubby sighed,
"because you remember his strongest card was to divide the enemy, and
then smash one army and then the other. They'd know all about his game
in time to block it. The romance of war has gone glimmering, I'm
afraid."
"Listen to all that shouting," said Merritt.
"Seems to be cheers, as well as these people can cheer, which is not
like the good old United States way," Tubby commented.
"You can see what it means," remarked Rob. "There goes a Belgian biplane
up, to get after the bold German!"
"My stars!" gasped Tubby. "Now we _will_ see a circus! Think of two
rival pilots maneuvering up there among the clouds, and trying to knock
each other out! Whew! But watch him boring up in spirals, would you?
Does the German see him, do you think, and is he beginning to skip out?"
"Nothing like that has happened yet, as far as I can see," admitted Rob.
"There he starts around again, as if meaning to complete his map, no
matter if a dozen Belgian or English airmen come up after him."
"It'll be a fight, then, see if it doesn't!" Tubby affirmed.
"There goes a second aeroplane, and this time a monoplane," Merritt
told them, pointing as he spoke. "Unless I miss my guess, there's an
English aviator in that machine. It doesn't carry the little Belgian
flag the other does, you notice."
"Two against one," muttered the deeply interested Tubby. "Better be
making up your mind to turn tail and run, Mr. Deutschland. The odds are
against you, and, if you should get tumbled out of your seat a mile
high, I'd hate to be under you when you strike the ground."
"They seem to be maneuvering for position," asserted Rob. "Yes, both are
circling around now, and going still higher all the time. Before long
the German will be hidden in that cloud bank, and that's what he's
aiming to have happen."
"I thought I saw something like a little puff of smoke just then!"
declared Merritt, who had exceptionally good eyes, strong almost as
those of an eagle.
"Then they must be bombarding each other!" Tubby ventured to say,
evidently greatly thrilled by the spectacle that could never have been
dreamed of a few generations back.
"It's likely they are using their automatics, and trying to disable each
other," admitted Rob, "though, between us, Merritt, I don't believe the
tiny puff of smoke could be seen away down here, unless you had a strong
glass. Of course, when moving as fast as they do, the chance of making a
shot tell is next door to nix."
"Anyhow, they're chasing the German aeroplane off," Tubby declared.
"That is the main object for the brave Belgians going up there."
The boys had made up their minds while on the way across that as
Americans they must obey the President's appeal and be strictly neutral,
if it were possible. They had many good friends who were of German
descent, while others had English ancestors and near relatives.
The one country with which they sympathized deeply was Belgium. The
stubborn and heroic way in which that seven millions of people had
defied seventy millions, and the gallant manner in which their little
army had tried to resist the invasion of their beloved country, had
aroused the admiration of every one of the scouts.
As they stood there on that afternoon, and watched, they finally saw
the German Taube vanish in the clouds, with the leading Belgian
aeroplane following suit. Whether the pursuer ever overtook the foreign
air-scout or not, the boys never learned.
"Well, that was a lively little tilt while it lasted," remarked Merritt
as, the entertainment being over, the crowds again commenced sauntering
back and forth, with everybody talking volubly about the spectacle in
the heavens.
Soldiers gave them a curious look in passing. Every stranger in Antwerp
was under more or less suspicion in those days, for it was becoming
known that the German secret service had for years maintained the most
wonderful system of spying in France, England and Belgium ever dreamed
of. Antwerp had thousands of Teuton residents before the war, some of
them leading merchants who owned splendid country places six or seven
miles outside the city, where solid cement tennis courts afterward came
in very handy as foundations for the immense German siege guns.
"We'll see plenty more things that will give us a thrill to beat that,"
Rob observed, pushing through the bustling, chattering crowds.
"Yes, and I'm afraid times may come when danger will hang over our
heads," Merritt pursued, with a touch of regret in his voice. "Then
you'll both be sorry you didn't let me go off on this wild goose chase,
as it may turn out to be, by myself."
"What do you take us for, I want to know?" demanded Rob. "Haven't we
been through all sorts of tough times together in the past; and why
shouldn't we stand by our chum when he needs our help? What's a scout
good for if he is ready to desert a comrade when the sky grows dark?
That's just the time to show his true colors."
"You're taking the very words out of my mouth when you say that, Rob!"
asserted Tubby valiantly. "No matter what happens, we're bound by the
ties of old friendship. We'll sink or swim together, boys. And Merritt,
please don't ever tell us again you're feeling sorry for letting us come
along."
"If that man is to be found, we're going to corner him!" declared Rob,
with his lips taking on the firm lines that marked them whenever he was
making up his mind to hammer away persistently, like Grant did before
Richmond; "and when we go back to the other side, we hope to be carrying
that precious old paper your grandfather let get out of his possession
in such a queer way."
"This seems like a pretty warm day to me, even for summer," observed
Tubby irrelevantly.
"Now, we can give a pretty good guess, Rob," ventured Merritt smilingly,
"that Tubby has a sly meaning back of that remark."
"Yes," added the patrol leader, "and the chances are three to one it has
something to do with feeding."
"You are champion guessers, both of you," Tubby informed them, without
seeming to be in the least ashamed of the confession. "I'm consumed by a
violent thirst right now; and I bet you the milk in that shiny brass can
that those two tired dogs have been dragging all over Antwerp this
afternoon will have a lump of ice in it. Anyway, I'm going to test it;
come along and let me stand treat."
Laughing at his earnestness, the others followed the fat scout across
the street, where the old woman with her dog team was apparently
resting, and observing the remarkably interesting sights around her.
Just then there were loud cheers that attracted the attention of the
three boys.
"Something else coming along that's worth seeing," Merritt announced.
"Better curb that fierce thirst of yours for a minute or two, Tubby,
while we watch what's passing."
"Oh! well, I guess the milk won't sour while we're waiting," admitted
the fat boy with a sigh of resignation, as he wheeled so as to face the
street.
"What do you call that, I wonder?" remarked Merritt, as he looked. "It's
got the wheels of an automobile; but say, notice how the body of the car
has been built up with steel sides, will you? And as sure as you live
there's a quick firing Maxim mounted behind that bullet shield."
"Now I know what it is," Rob hastened to say.
"Then tell us, please," urged Tubby helplessly.
"They call them armored cars," said the patrol leader. "I've read about
how some of these reckless Belgians have fitted up cars in this way.
Nearly every day they start out to raid through the country, where they
expect to run across detachments of Uhlans, or bicycle squads of the
German advance. Then they dart down on them and do some terrible work;
before the enemy can recover to smash them, they are off like a flash,
and return to town with all sorts of trophies."
"They must have just been coming in," ventured Merritt. "I saw one of
the soldiers had a bandage around his head. Another was holding up two
helmets which must have been worn by Uhlans. And listen how the crowds
roar and cheer. They certainly do hate the Kaiser and his army in
Antwerp."
"Well, do you wonder?" Rob asked. "After some of their lovely towns have
been burnt down, and thousands of houses destroyed, simply because these
Belgians dared to stand up for their rights as a neutral nation!"
"Well, how about that drink of milk, fellows?" Tubby wanted to know.
"Suit yourself, Tubby," Rob told him. "If it tastes good to you, we
might join you in a glass."
"Huh! sort of 'trying it on the dog first,' eh?" Tubby retorted, and
then turning toward the owner of the dog team and the milk cart, he made
a gesture with his head, and held up three fingers.
Evidently the old woman must have understood what he meant, though she
looked a bit "peeved," as Tubby afterward expressed it, at being asked
to do a retail business. There were a number of measures dangling from
hooks around the top of the shining brass milk can, also several glass
"schooners." Taking one of the latter the old Belgian milk vender was in
the act of filling it from the contents of the can when something
astonishing happened.
Four soldiers who had been passing became excited, and pointed at the
group; then they laid violent hands on the owner of the milk cart!