When Schneider intimated that he thought it was time for another attempt to find material for a fire, there were two young rebels emphatically against the proposition.
"We'll move where there is wood in sight," was the joint declaration.
Roque agreed that a change of base was desirable, and a flight from the mountain top was in immediate order.
As the machines descended and followed a lower course, ghastly reminders of the struggle that had recently taken place in and along the pass were easily discernible from the lookout seat of the biplanes—the melting snow on the slopes revealing many bodies of Austrians and Russians.
In a clearing at the edge of a considerable forest the aëroplanes again settled, the observers being first convinced that there was no military occupation, especially hostile, of the wooded tract.
"This beats the mountain roost a mile and a half," declared Billy, the leader in hopping out of the aircraft.
In a big hole in the ground, dug by the impact of a cannon ball, Schneider started a brush fire, and in a few minutes was passing hot coffee around.
"I must say," observed Roque, between bites at a sandwich of corned beef and hardtack, "that I don't seem to be getting anywhere on this trip except into pitfalls. All this is sheer waste of time. I had hoped to see a relief march to Przemysl begun within a day, but here we are tied in a knot, and not a step forward."
"Well," consoled Schneider, "you gave them the route that could be won with the least difficulty."