Frank had but one way open to him in order to reach the ground. This was to volplane swiftly, as he had many a time done after shutting off all power, and when a certain distance from the earth, by suddenly working his planes, cause the aircraft to assume a horizontal position instead of a vertical one, after which would come the straight drop.
Just what sort of a jar must accompany the landing would depend, in a great measure, on the distance they were up at the time, and the skill shown by the pilot in managing these things.
It is always deemed a spectacular method of descending from an upper level, and not as dangerous as it may appear to those who are unfamiliar with the working of aircraft. Frank had practiced it many a time, and in an ordinary aëroplane, with its rubber-tired wheels to run along the ground, would have thought nothing of it. When he had to land with a seaplane, never meant for such a purpose, it was a “horse of another color,” and might be considered a very ticklish job.
The ground seemed to be rushing up to meet them as they fell. Pudge shrank back as though he could already feel the terrible shock of the contact, should they continue to make that swift downward progress.
But Frank was ready to change the planes, and in this manner alter the conditions. They would act as a stay, and bring their headlong rush earthward to an end. After that it would simply be a dead weight drop, and perhaps not so hard as to smash anything about the seaplane beyond repairing.
Before Pudge had time to take another full breath it was all over. They had swept down beyond a low hill, on top of which stood one of the windmills so often seen in Holland, Belgium and Northern France, with its broad arms standing motionless, and the tower showing signs of having been struck by more than one solid shot during some tempestuous battle for the rise.
With slackening speed, the seaplane followed the descent, and then came to almost a full stop at its base. After that it dropped straight to the ground.
The shock proved to be rather severe, and Pudge was even jolted from his seat, falling in a heap close by. Frank jumped out and was immediately followed by Billy and the French air pilot, all of them perhaps considerably shaken, but apparently none the worse for the rough experience.
Frank first of all sprang over to where Pudge was wallowing. The fat boy sat up just as Frank reached his side.
“I hope you’re not hurt much, Pudge?” cried the pilot of the Sea Eagle, as he hurriedly bent over to assist his chum to gain his feet.