The shout of the lookout on Columbus’ ship when he first sighted the
New World created no greater excitement than did Ned’s words among
the boys on the _Ocean Flyer_. Each and every one of them rushed to
the port windows with binoculars through which to scan the view more
closely.
The scene was, however, most disappointing. As far as the eye could
reach below stretched an expanse of sparsely-wooded uninviting plain,
with white patches of snow still showing upon it. Far off to the
southwest the peaks of a mighty range of rugged mountains loomed
hazily. Not a bird flew in the sky; not a human habitation was to be
seen. Away to the northwest a narrow ribbon of something gray was
twisting slowly across the country. Little points of light flickered
above it where the sunbeams struck.
“What is that?” asked Alan, pointing out the snake-like thing. “Is it a
river?”
“No, I don’t think so,” answered Buck. “Ned, let’s get nearer to that
thing and see just what it is.”
Accordingly the course of the _Flyer_ was altered and, flying at an
elevation of about 1,100 feet above the ground, she rapidly drew near
the mysterious object.
Closer approach gave the boys a genuine surprise. The “snake” proved
to be five battalions of soldiery on the march--infantry, cavalry and
artillery. There seemed to be thousands and thousands of them--more
men than any of the boys had ever seen gathered together before. The
uniforms were of a dark blue. Some of the regiments wore little round
caps of the same color, set rakishly on one side of their heads; others
wore huge flat fur or wool hats. Most of the soldiers seemed to be
unusually large and rough looking. The majority of them were bearded.
“Russians!” exclaimed Bob. “See those flags! Russians on the way to
reinforce either the army invading Austria or their comrades fighting
the Germans in East Prussia is what they are!”
The appearance of the big airship caused the greatest confusion in the
ranks. The cavalry galloped wildly this way and that; infantrymen
broke their regular marching formation to scatter and fire their guns
futilely at it; the cannon were hurriedly unlimbered and efforts made
to elevate their muzzles which would bring the _Flyer_ within range.
The young aeronauts could not help laughing at the disorder their
approach caused, and agreed with Ned that it was better not to get too
close to the Russians. So the airship was raised to a greater altitude
and took a southwesterly course.
“Why this particular direction?” queried Alan. “We have no idea where
we are except that it is Russian territory, which may mean Siberia or
Lapland.”
“Well,” said Ned, “we want to get back to the seat of war, and it’s
a pretty safe bet that those Russians are bound for there by the
shortest possible route. They are headed in a southwesterly direction,
so it stands to reason that if we follow the same course, we’ll arrive
somewhere near their destination.”
This was a logical deduction, so the _Flyer_ was held to that position,
and all sight of the army was soon lost in their rear.
For perhaps three hours the character of the underlying landscape
remained the same as when it first was sighted. After that it gradually
began to vary, assuming a more rolling aspect, with considerable
stretches of forestland. Indications of snow became less frequent;
cultivated fields began to appear here and there, then little villages
and finally a large city. Several towns of considerable size were
passed over, but the airship was flying at too great an altitude for
the boys to see much of them or to locate more exactly where they were.
By this time the sun was sinking, and there was danger of the _Flyer’s_
passing completely over and beyond the “theater of war” in the
darkness. Alan and Bob counseled a descent to earth for the night. This
seemed to be a pretty safe procedure, as the vessel could be got under
way again within a few minutes should any unexpected need arise, and
it would, further, give the weary young aeronauts a chance to stretch
their limbs and inhale some fresh air.
After a short discussion it was decided to do this. Sweeping in a
diminishing spiral downward, the boys sighted a little village nestled
snugly in a valley. The smoke from fires where goodwives were cooking
the evening meal, arose in delicate streams in the calm air. Here and
there a light already twinkled in a cottage window. Peasants were just
driving the lowing cattle home for milking.
“Let’s land over there!” exclaimed Buck. “I’m fairly hungry for the
sight of somebody who won’t shoot before asking who you are, and, aside
from that, I’ll bet that these simple folk would be willing to set us
up a regular homelike meal!”
“How do you know that they won’t shoot at us, Buck?” asked Alan.
“I guess that we’re pretty safe on that score,” Bob broke in. “These
people are evidently honest countrymen who’ll be far more afraid of us
than we need be of them.”
“Yes, and besides,” added Buck, “we can find out from them just where
we are and how near we are to the battle front.”
“That’s a good point,” Ned said, “but they’re probably Russians or
Poles, and they wouldn’t understand what we wanted to know. None of us
speak their outlandish language.”
“I know a little Russian--at least enough for our needs,” volunteered
Bob. “If you boys think that it’s safe to make a landing, I’ll
guarantee to do all interpreting.”
“Fine!” chorused the others, and so the landing was made in the
meadows within a stone’s throw of the first cottages.
There was, of course, immediate excitement throughout the town. The
rusty bell in the steeple of the weather-beaten old church pealed an
alarm, lights were immediately extinguished, and everybody came rushing
out from their house-doors. At sight of the monster airship settling
down there in the pasture with the blood-red rays of the sunset turning
her metal body into the seeming of molten steel, a genuine panic ensued.
The women and children fled within, slamming and barring their
doors behind them. The male villagers hastily caught up the first
objects of defense that came to hand--flails, pitchforks, scythes, an
old-fashioned muzzle-loading musket or two. They huddled together like
so many frightened sheep in front of the town church, uncertain whether
to fly or fight.
“Look!” called Buck. “We’re frightening these poor people to death.
Show a white flag, some of you, and show them that we mean to be
friendly.”
Alan complied by jumping down from the lower runway, waving a flag of
truce, and both Buck and Bob followed him, holding their empty hands
high in the air to show that they were unarmed. The trio walked slowly
straight towards the group of peasants, while Ned remained on one of
the outer galleries of the _Flyer_, rifle in hand, ready to defend them
if need be.
“Don’t be alarmed, good people!” shouted Bob in Russian. “We don’t
intend to harm you. All that we want is a good square meal, a chance to
walk around a bit, and a little information as to our whereabouts.”
Although their suspicions were not altogether allayed, the peasants
showed immediate relief, and three, who seemed to be the ringleaders,
advanced hesitatingly to meet the approaching boys.
“_Gott gruessen Ihr, Gefremde_,” (God bless you, strangers) said one of
them, extending his right hand.
“Holy smoke! Did you hear that, boys? He’s addressing us in _German_,”
cried Bob and Buck together. “This is better than we looked for, but
surely we can’t be back in Germany!”
Everybody shook hands solemnly all around, and Bob explained to the
villagers.
“We are American newspaper men, over here to gather war news and find
photographs for our papers,” said he. “We had an accident yesterday
and lost our way, and now are simply looking for a chance to rest a
little before going on.”
“You are all welcome to do that here,” said the spokesman for the
villagers with true Teutonic hospitality. “We shall be glad to have you
eat with us. In return you can tell us about the great war.”
“We certainly will take you up on that,” cried Buck, and led the way
back to the airship to tell Ned of their cordial reception. All of the
villagers--the women and round-eyed children too--crowded gaping around
the strange aircraft with exclamations of wonder.
“I guess it will be safe for us to leave the _Flyer_ here unguarded,”
said Ned. “These people don’t act as if they would tamper with it, and
I want to get in on those ‘eats’ too. Anyway, we won’t have to go very
far away, and can get back here in a jiffy if we have to.”
All of the boys agreed to this and so it was settled. Before leaving
the ship, to accompany the villagers, they all secretly slipped
revolvers into their coat pockets. As Bob said:
“It’s always better to be on the safe side.”