In one place they saw solid masses rushing forward with the resistless power of might, to be met with a blast that cut terrible lanes in their closely packed ranks.
Amos fairly held his breath as he stared. It seemed almost as though he might be indulging in a nightmare. Then the powder smoke rolled like a curtain between, and the view was shut off.
Shells were bursting everywhere, and Jack soon located the hamlet which they had so recently quitted.
“They’re at it hammer and tongs around the village, I’m afraid, Amos,” he called out to his companion.
“Have you found out where it’s located, Jack?”
“Yes, if you watch sharp when the smoke fog opens you can glimpse a few of the houses over that way,” and Jack pointed as he said this.
“Yes, I see it now. And how the shells seem to be raining down on that spot. I guess the German gunners have got the range to a fraction. How d’ye think they manage such things, Jack?”
“They have the whole country plotted out to begin with, Amos. And then, you see, they get tips by wireless right along.”
“Wireless?” echoed Amos.
“In a sense, yes. Look up and you’ll see that there are a dozen aeroplanes swooping around like hawks, now fluttering over some particular spot, and dropping a colored signal paper. That is to tell the gunners just how to fire so as to hit what they’re after. Those birdmen have a regular code they use to talk with.”