The pilots themselves knew the route this time, and they sent the biplanes over the course at sixty miles an hour.
Three times they were over the fire of long-range guns, but too high for harm.
Settling in the fortress enclosure, their initial greeting came from Stanislaws.
"Here's a cure for sore eyes."
This delighted individual capered around the welcome incomers like a dancing master.
The garrison received with acclaim the news that Roque conveyed.
They had been advised in a general way by wireless from the nearest Austrian point of the upcoming of the German reinforcements, and this confirmation in person and in detail added to the enthusiasm created by the first report.
"Now, boys," said Roque to his pilots, the next evening, "I am seeking a sight of the gray lines again, and there's another hard flight in store for you. So get a good night's rest. We start at daybreak."
Facing a bitter, biting wind, the aviators left Przemysl at dawn, and when they, numbed but undaunted, finally reached the far-away German lines it was a battle front that they crossed. There the atmosphere was being warmed by gunpowder flashes, and below was burning petrol, thawing out the ground that the troops might dig themselves in.
Before the entrenchments, in wide range, combined forces of Austrians and Germans were locked in a life and death struggle with Russian contenders for the possession of Warsaw—a bloody repetition in one spot of the never ending conflict.