"So it seems."
The German plane made circle after circle around the tree, finally drew off to some distance, and then, as it wavered back and forth, its machine gun began to spit fire. Little boughs and leaves cut from the tree fell to the ground, but the flag, untouched, fluttered defiantly in the light breeze.
"They're trying to shoot it down," said John, "and with such an unsteady gun platform they've missed every time."
"I doubt whether they'll continue firing," said Weber. "An aeroplane doesn't carry any great amount of ammunition and they can't afford to waste much."
"They're through now," said John. "See, they're flying away toward the east, and unless my imagination deceives me, their machine actually looks crestfallen, while our flag is snapping away in the wind, haughty and defiant."
"A vivid fancy yours, Mr. Scott, but it's easy to imagine that German machine looking cheap, because that's just the way the men on board it must feel. Suppose we sit down here and take our ease. No flying man can see through those vines over our heads, and we can watch in safety. We're sure to draw other scouts of the air, while for us it's an interesting and comparatively safe experience."
"Our flag is certainly an attraction," said John, making himself comfortable on the ground. "There's a bird of passage now, coming down from the north as swift as a swallow."
"It's a little monoplane," said Weber, "and it certainly resembles a swallow, as it comes like a flash toward this tree. I thought at first it might be Lannes in the Arrow, but the plane is too small, and it's of German make."
"I fancy it won't linger long. This is not a healthy bit of space for lone fellows in monoplanes."
The little plane slackened its speed, as it approached the tree, and then sailed by it at a moderate rate. When it was opposite the flag a spurt of flame came from the pistol of the man in it, and John actually laughed.