As the two boys stood there staring, they saw the aeroplane sailing lower and lower until it seemed to be almost skimming the surface of the earth.
“There! he’s jumped out into that patch of bushes over yonder!” exclaimed Amos in renewed excitement, “and the machine has pitched down further on. He did his level best, Jack, but the game was too one-sided for him. Wonder is he living or dead?”
CHAPTER IV.
THE TELL-TALE CHART.
Jack noticed that the other two aeroplanes had withdrawn as though the pilots felt satisfied with having hurled the Taube to the ground. That particular section of country was so rough that they evidently had no intention of trying to effect a landing. Amos even suggested that possibly they had not come out of the encounter unscathed, and that the aviators were glad of a chance to retire from the battle in the air.
“We must see how badly he is hurt, Amos,” said the Western boy, as he started toward the spot where the venturesome birdman had plunged from his falling machine into the scrub bushes.
“Yes, I wouldn’t feel right unless we did that,” agreed Amos, who possessed a tender heart, and had once upon a time subscribed to the rules governing the conduct of the Boy Scouts of America.
They were quickly on the spot, and looking to the right and the left in the endeavor to locate the stricken aviator.
“There he is, Jack!” said Amos, suddenly, gripping the arm of his chum as he spoke. “Down on his hands and knees, too, as if he might be searching for something he had lost. Shall we go closer and see if he’s badly hurt? I think we ought to do what little we can for the plucky chap.”
Evidently this was what Jack had in mind, for he immediately started forward. The Taube pilot heard them coming and looked up. His face was streaked with blood and dirt, and altogether he presented a sad picture.