The Guns of Europe

by Joseph A. Altsheler

But two hundred yards to the grove and yet it seemed two miles! His powerful imagination could already hear over his head the rush of the aeroplanes, like the swoop of monster wings, and he felt himself bending low in the saddle, lest his head be struck by an iron beak.

A rifle cracked in the air, and a bullet struck the ground between two of the horses. Then came a sinister burr-r-r and shots rained near them. It was a machine gun in one of the aeroplanes, flying so low now that the angle at which it was fired was not acute.

John was brave and his will was so strong that it had great control over his sensitive and imaginative mind. Yet he was never in his life more terrified. That vivid picture of primeval man fleeing with all his might from monsters of the air, grew more vivid every moment. He was fairly drenched in terror, as his dim ancestor must have been in like case, nor was he ashamed of it. He had one look each at his comrades, and their faces were ghastly white. He knew that his emotions were theirs too.

The bullets flew thicker, but aim is uncertain, when one is flying from a moving machine in the air, at speeding targets, and most of the bullets flew wide. Carstairs was grazed on the shoulder, and Wharton's horse was touched lightly on the flank, but gasping, both horses and riders, they plunged into the wood, reckless alike of trees and undergrowth, desperately seeking safety from the winged terrors that pursued them.

It was fortunate for the three fugitives that it was not the ordinary European wood, trimmed and pruned like a park. It was heavy with foliage, and there was much undergrowth, in which the horse of Carstairs tripped and fell, throwing him. But he did not begrudge that, as the vines and bushes not only broke his fall, but meant safety.

"Since you're down Carstairs," said Wharton, "it's the duty of a comrade to join you."

He sprang off his own horse and stood, rifle in hand, among the bushes. John also dismounted, although in more leisurely fashion. His heart had ceased to beat so heavily when they entered the wood. The immediate anger of being snapped up by those giants of the air passed and the revulsion of feeling came. His pulses were still drumming in his ears, but he heard a louder throbbing above the trees. The angry and disappointed monsters were hovering there, still seeking their prey.

Bullets pattered on the leaves and twigs, but they went wide. The three horses shivered in terror, and the one that had been touched on the flank uttered a shrill neigh of distress. John took the lead.

"The undergrowth is thicker on our right," he said. "We must take our horse into it. They won't be able to get more than glimpses of us there."

"Right!" said Carstairs, "I think I can walk that far now. The strength is coming back into my knees, and I don't think they'll double under me. I don't mind telling you fellows that I was never before in my life so scared."