"Certainly, sergeant," agreed Blake. "Every little helps, and we'll be less exposed to the wind in the hollow."
It was a strenuous task pushing the machine dead in the eye of the wind, but on gaining the spot that the sergeant had pointed out, the airmen found that there was almost complete shelter from the full force of the gale, while the highest part of the crippled machine showed only a couple of feet above the high ground surrounding the natural hollow.
Heavy rain was now falling. The stranded aviators faced the discomfort with rising spirits, for they knew that should the downpour continue the ground would quickly become a quagmire, and that the rain would keep the villagers within doors. Nevertheless all precautions were taken against surprises, since it was quite possible that workers in the fields had noticed the battleplane's descent, and had set off to warn the military.
Enveloped in their weather-proof coats, Athol and Sergeant O'Rafferty mounted guard, taking care to avoid the sky-line. From their respective posts they could command a vast tract of the neighbouring countryside, so that, unless the battleplane was stalked by practical scouts the danger of a surprise was completely obviated.
Meanwhile Blake and Dick were hard at work removing the bent rod. Upon examination the metal showed no sign of fracture, but it was essential that it should be straightened before the wing-mechanism could again be operated.
"We've a tough job here, Dick," observed the inventor as he gazed upon his damaged handiwork. "Now, if we were at home or at the flying ground it would be a simple matter. A forge and a blacksmith's anvil would enable us to rectify the injury in less than an hour."
In vain they applied pressure to the bent rod. They jumped on it, battered it with the heaviest spanners they possessed. The tough metal sturdily refused to respond to the treatment. For the first time since Dick had made Desmond Blake's acquaintance the inventor showed signs of despair.
"I have an idea!" suddenly exclaimed Dick. "It may work; it may not. In either case there can't be much harm done."
"Well, what is it?" enquired Blake hopefully. He had already good cause to appreciate the intelligence of his young assistant, and a ray of hope flashed across his mind at the lad's words.
"Suppose I take the rod into the village and get them to straighten it out," began Dick.