CHAPTER VII
Disabling a Taube
"Here is the money and the letter you entrusted us with, sir," saidKenneth. "We couldn't get within five miles of Vise."
"The place is burned to the ground, I hear," announced Major Resimont."Those Prussians are like devils, they spare neither man, woman, norchild. Liege is filled with terrible stories brought by the peasantswho escaped. I could, alas! gather no definite tidings of my daughteror of her friend your sister, Monsieur Everest. One thing is certain.They left before the German shells began to fall in Vise, but whither,I know not. Let us hope they went to Maastricht."
It was now early morning. The bombardment, which had ceased during thefutile assault, was now being renewed, although the fire lacked thefierceness that characterized the beginning of the siege of Liege.
The Belgian reply, too, had almost ceased, for so rapidly had the bigguns been served that they had become overheated. Moreover--a furtherproof of German methods--the ordnance supplied by Krupp's to theBelgian Government before the war was obviously inferior in workmanshipand material, and in consequence had rapidly deteriorated.
The two British dispatch-riders had run across Major Resimont in one ofthe vaulted galleries. He looked tired and worried: tired owing to thefact that he had been for seventeen hours on duty in the trenches or inthe fort; worried by reason of anxiety for his daughter. Yet he waswilling and anxious to face the Germans at any time they should take itinto their heads to attempt another assault.
"If I were you I would take the chance to get a few hours' sleep," headvised as he bade the lads au revoir. "Remember what I said the nexttime there is an attack: a dispatch-rider's duty is not in thefiring-line. His work lies in another sphere, equally hazardous andequally important."
"Jolly good advice about getting some sleep, at all events," remarkedKenneth, after the Major had gone. "I vote we turn in. I had no ideaI was so horribly sleepy until just now."
"Guns or no guns, I think I can do my share of sleep," agreed Rollo."Let us put the scheme into practice."
Just then the heavy armoured door of the gallery was thrown open, andan authoritative voice shouted:
"Dispatch-riders! Are there any dispatch-riders here?"
"Here, sir," replied the lads promptly.
"Ah! The English motor-cyclists," exclaimed the Belgian--a staffofficer. "Do you know the headquarters offices in the Palace ofJustice in Liege?"
"Yes, sir," was again the reply.
"Good! Take this paper--you!" (pointing to Kenneth)--"and deliver itinto the hands of Commandant Fleurus at all costs, and await hiscommands. Your comrade will accompany you, so that should you meetwith any mishap he is to take the paper from you and proceed. Youunderstand? Good! Now, away!"
"A good spin will be almost as refreshing as a few hours' sleep,Rollo," said Kenneth, as the two chums made their way to the placewhere their motor-cycles were stored, protected by three feet ofconcrete and six feet of earth from hostile shells.
"With plenty of excitement thrown in," added Rollo. "We'll have adifficulty to dodge those shells as we get clear of the fort, I'mthinking."
"Rush it and trust to luck. We'll do it all right," declared Kennethoptimistically, as he hurriedly overhauled his cycle and proceeded towarm up the engine.
It was a tricky business getting out of the fort, for the sunken lanethat wound through the extensive glacis was littered with debris ofexploded shells. There were deep holes in several places, while atvarious points the effect of the German projectiles was evident by thefact that the approach to the fort was choked by landslides. Thricethe lads had to dismount and push their cycles over obstacles, to theaccompaniment of the dull crash of the shells, some of which burstunpleasantly near.
All the while, although not a defender was visible, the armouredcupolas were appearing and disappearing with the regularity ofclockwork, sending out their iron hail upon the pontoons which theGerman engineers were constructing to replace the broken bridges atVise and Argenteau.
"All out!" exclaimed Rollo as they reached the open road.
With throttle well open and spark advanced, both motor-cycles boundedforward. The pace was terrific. At times the riders were almostjerked from the saddles as their steeds leapt across the irregularitieson the surface of the _pave_. The lads could no longer hear thethunder of the guns: it was drowned by the roar of their exhausts. Thewind shrieked past their ears, grit flew in showers, a cloud of dustfollowed in their wake. Suddenly they saw a large silvery-grey objectswoop down about a quarter of a mile ahead, close to the outskirts ofthe village of Jupille, which had been abandoned by the terrifiedinhabitants. The riders recognized it as one of the German Taubes thathad been aggressively active during the operations by locating theposition of the Belgian trenches.
The monoplane was in difficulties. It took all the skill of the pilotto prevent it from making a nose-end dive to earth. With superbpresence of mind he managed to restore the disturbed equilibrium and tobring the Taube to rest without much damage.
Bringing his motor-cycle to a halt, Kenneth dismounted and placed hismount on its stand. Rollo did likewise.
"What's the game?" he asked as his companion unfastened the flap of hisholster.
"We'll collar those fellows," declared Kenneth resolutely "They mustnot get away."
"But the dispatch?"
"This is more important, I guess. See, those fellows are alreadysetting things to rights. Before any of the Belgian vedettes can comeup they will be off again."
Kenneth was right in his surmise. There were no troops within a mileof the place. The two men who formed the crew of the monoplane werefeverishly tackling the work of making good the damage. One of thewires actuating the elevating gear had been cut through by a chanceBelgian bullet--one amongst a thousand more that had been fired at thetroublesome Taube.
"Surrender!" shouted Kenneth, advancing to within fifty feet of theaviators and levelling his revolver. Rollo, cooler than his companion,steadied the barrel of his heavy pistol in the crook of his arm.
The pilot had been so engrossed in his work that he had not noticed thearrival of the lads. At the sound of Kenneth's voice he had justcompleted the joining up of the severed wire. He made a rush to thepropeller and began to swing it in order to start the engine.
This was more than Kenneth had bargained for. It seemed too much likeshooting down a man in cold blood. He need not have been sochivalrous, for the next instant a bullet tore through his hair andsent his cap a couple of yards away. The observer of the Taube had, atthe first alarm, flung himself upon the ground and had fired at the ladwith a rifle.
Before the man could thrust home a fresh cartridge Kenneth was snugbehind a rise in the ground. Rollo, twenty paces to the right, hadlikewise taken cover.
The powerful motor was now working. The propeller blades glitteredlike a circle of light as they revolved with a terrific buzz. Thedraught of the propeller threw up a cloud of dust as high as athree-storied house. Through the haze thus caused the lads coulddistinguish the forms of the aviators as they scrambled into theirseats.
Both dispatch-riders emptied the contents of their revolvers, perhaps alittle wildly, but the result was none the less disastrous to theTaube. There was a blinding flash, a report, and a rush of air thatdrove the dust-cloud in all directions. One of the bullets had piercedthe petrol-tank, and a spark had done the rest.
In an instant the Taube was enveloped in flame. The pilot, his handsheld to his face, was stumbling blindly away from the inferno, hisclothes burning furiously. The observer ran for nearly twenty yards,spun round thrice, and collapsed.
Rollo was the one in this instance to take the initiative. He ran tothe pilot, tripped him up, and began to heap handfuls of dust upon hisburning clothing. By Kenneth's aid the flames were extinguished, butby this time the unfortunate German was unconscious.
As for the observer, he was found severely wounded, one of the heavyrevolver bullets havin
g passed completely through his shoulder.
"Now, what's to be done?" asked Rollo, as the lads ejected the expendedammunition and reloaded their revolvers.
"Carry on with the dispatch, of course," replied Kenneth. "We can dono more here. Hello! Here are the Belgian cavalry."
Up rode a patrol of lancers. Dismounting, and leaving their horses incharge of one-third of their number, the men advanced. The officer incharge took in the situation at a glance, for the twelve empty revolvercartridges on the ground told their own tale.
"You had better proceed; enough time has already been wasted," he said,when he learnt the mission of the dispatch-riders. "We will attend tothese."
"That's a nasty knock," observed Rollo ruefully, as they hurried backto their motor-cycles.
"H'm, yes," admitted his companion reluctantly. "Perhaps the chap wasa bit nettled because his men didn't bag the Taube."
But as they rode past the scene of their exploit the Captain called hismen to attention--a tribute to the resource and daring of the Britishlads. Already the Belgian cavalrymen had shown signs of theirhumanity, for by means of their lances two stretchers had beenimprovised, and the wounded aviators were on the way to one of thehospitals in the beleaguered city.
The Dispatch-Riders: The Adventures of Two British Motor-cyclists in the Great War Page 7
