Reënforced after their first defeat in Poland, the Germans had begun a new drive into the heart of Poland. Day after day they drew nearer and nearer to the little capital, Warsaw–the Russians retreating before them.
But now, within two days’ march of Warsaw, the Russians held steadily, and, try as he might, the German commander could not break through this line of steel. Grand Duke Nicholas, commander-in-chief of the Russian armies–who at first had been with the southern army opposing the Austrians and advancing upon Cracow, in Galicia–had hurried north, to take personal command in Poland.
His presence had instilled new vigor into the Russian troops, and, after several days of defensive action, the Russian troops had at last resumed the offensive.
It was toward this mighty army that the aëroplane that had borne the boys through the heart of the enemy was now flying swiftly.
“Seems to me,” said Hal, “that by this time we must have passed the German lines. I guess we might as well go down a bit and have a look around.”
Accordingly the machine glided nearer the earth. The day was dark and foggy, and at first the lads could discern nothing below but a great blur.
They drew closer.
At that moment there came a shot from below. Hal instinctively threw over the lever in an effort to take the craft out of harm’s way.
But the machine did not respond to his touch.
“Great Scott!” he cried. “That one bullet must have put us out of commission. We’ll have to go down, or be shot to pieces up here.”