Again and again did he call the attention of his chum to certain features of the wonderful picture that especially appealed to him. Now it was the snakelike movements of what appeared to be a new army heading toward the front, accompanied by a long line of big guns that were drawn by traction engines. Then the irregular line of what he made out to be the opposing trenches riveted his attention. He was thrilled when he actually saw a rush made by an attacking party of Germans, to be met with volleys that must have sadly decimated their ranks, for as Billy gazed with bated breath he saw the remnant of the gallant band reel back and vanish amidst their own trenches.
“Am I awake, Frank, or asleep and dreaming all this?” Billy exclaimed, as he handed the glasses to his chum.
This Frank could readily do because they were running along as smoothly as velvet, and long habit had made him perfectly at home in handling the working parts of the seaplane.
“I wonder what they think of us?” wondered Billy. “You may be sure that every field glass and pair of binoculars they own is leveled at us right now. They must think the French or the British have sprung one on them, to beat out their old Zeppelins at the raiding business! Oh! wouldn’t I give something to be close enough to the commanding general to see the look on his face.”
Frank was looking for something else just then. Although they were flying at such a great height, he fancied that the present security would hardly last. The Germans were only waiting until they had gone on a certain distance; then probably a dozen of their hustling little Taube machines would spring upward and chase after the singular stranger like a swarm of hornets, seeking to cut off escape, and hoping by some lucky shot to bring it down.
The barograph was in plain sight from where Frank sat, and perhaps the quick glance he gave at its readings just then had some connection with this expectation of coming trouble.
Billy interpreted it otherwise. He was afraid Frank, thinking they had gone far enough, was sweeping around to start back toward the British trench line.
“Just a little further, Frank,” pleaded Billy. “There’s a big move on over yonder, seems like, where that army is coming along; and I’d like to see enough to interest our good friend Major Nixon when we get back.”
“I don’t know whether I’ll let you say a single word, Billy,” the air pilot told him, as he relinquished the glasses to the eager one. “That wouldn’t be acting neutral, you know. Besides, there are plenty of the Allies’ machines able to fly, and those airmen like Graham-White ought to be able to pick up news of any big movement.”
They could see patches of snow in places, and much water in others where the low country had been inundated by the Belgians. This was done in hopes of hastening the retreat of the invaders, who despite all had stuck to their trenches and the unfinished canal for months, as though rooted there.