All gazed in the direction indicated and saw something which filled them with horror. Caught in a fork of one of the limbs of the tree was the German aviator. His jacket had become fastened on the branch, and he was trying vainly to extricate himself from his perilous position. The flames were already within three feet of him, and the back of his heavy fur jacket was singed and smoking.
“He’ll be burned up as sure as fate!” cried Ben.
“He will be unless we can save him,” returned Dave.
“I don’t see how you are going to do it, Dave,” remarked Shadow. “How are you going to reach him?”
The helpless airman was at least twenty feet from the ground. All he could do was to twist himself in his perilous position, but to get free from the limb seemed impossible.
“Gee! he doesn’t seem to make much of an effort to free himself,” observed one of the other engineers. He did not realize the truth of the situation, which was that the apparently helpless man was suffering from a broken arm and a dislocated shoulder.
The gasoline from the broken tanks had flowed over the brushwood at the foot of the tree, and this was now causing the flames to mount up directly under the German. This being the case, even had he freed himself he would have dropped into the fire.
Dave was the first to act. His quick eye had noted a tall tree standing five or six yards away, and he made for this without delay.
“Boost me up, you fellows, and be quick about it; and then some of you follow me,” he ordered.
Roger and Phil helped him to mount into the tree, and then the two of them, aided by the other engineers, came up also. By this time Dave had selected the limb he wished to utilize, and he crawled slowly out on this, testing its strength as he progressed.