“Oh! there he goes with a swoop!” gasped Amos; “but no, he seems to recover, and holds his own still. He’s a sure-enough jim-dandy pilot, let me tell you, Jack! Few bird men could have done that dip and come up smiling again.”
“Well, there’s no need of our standing here any longer,” observed the other boy. “We can watch while we walk along. I’d hate to miss connections with that troop, for somehow or other I keep hoping we may run across a clue worth while.”
This seemed to suit Amos very well, and they continued their tramp, keeping up a watch of the strange fight that was going on far up toward the fleecy clouds. If either of them stumbled occasionally on account of the deep interest they were taking in the wonderful exhibition of skill and daring being paraded before their eyes it was not to be wondered at under the circumstances.
The almost incessant roar of the guns, together with the crash of bursting shrapnel shells far above them had effectually drowned that dull, distant sound which from time to time had come to their ears, being caused by heavy ordnance battering some fortified place near the coast. Jack had even suggested that it might be the British battleships bombarding Zeebrugge, in order to damage the submarine base the Kaiser had instituted there.
Twice again did Amos have occasion to declare he believed the Taube had certainly received its finishing stroke, for it acted in an eccentric manner, and seemed to flutter like a wounded eagle of the skies. When on both occasions he saw that it recovered in time to elude the swoop of the Allies’ machines his praise grew louder than ever.
“I’m almost ready to wish that fellow gets away scot-free, Jack; he certainly deserves to win out!” he declared, enthusiastically.
“I reckon he’s got something with him he considers worth fighting for to the last gasp,” remarked the other; “but every minute this thing keeps up his chances decrease. He makes me think of a winded steer tottering along, and so exhausted that it seems a shame to rope him. There, that time he must have been badly battered when the shrapnel burst close alongside!”
“He’s winging down again, all right!” exclaimed Amos, “and this time it means he’s got to the end of his rope. His engine has been put out of commission most likely; and, Jack, see, he’s heading right at us!”
“That’s right!” echoed the other; “and p’raps we’ll be in at the death, after all!”
The Taube was falling very fast, despite every effort of the expert pilot to volplane earthward without the use of his engine. Apparently the machine must have been badly crippled by the shower of shrapnel to which it was lately exposed, and in addition the daring aviator may have received wounds that prevented him from properly fulfilling his duties.