CHAPTER XXIII.
THE WINDMILL FORT.
While Frank was calling out after this manner everybody was making hasteto show as little of their person as possible. As there was not muchshelter of any kind available, the only way this could be accomplishedwas to flatten out on the ground.
By some species of good luck it happened that there was a dip to theearth at the base of the low elevation on which the windmill had beenbuilt. Frank afterward called it a "swale." It ran away from the spot ina zigzag fashion, and perhaps if one were agile and clever, he mighteven manage to wriggle along this dip without exposing much of hisperson to those in the tower.
The four of them thus wallowed, and tried to exchange remarks.
"There goes another shot," said Billy, as a report came to their ears."I hope nobody's been hit so far. How about that?"
"No damage here," replied Frank immediately.
"I am pleased to say the same, young m'sieu," added the Frenchman.
"Well, so far I haven't felt a wound, but I'm expecting somethingdreadful to happen any minute now," Pudge called out ruefully.
"Why, what's the matter with you, Pudge?" demanded Billy.
"Only this, that I loom up so much more than anybody else, and there'slots of chances of them seeing me, that's all. But then a fellow canonly die once, and perhaps I won't know what hits me, which is somecomfort."
"Hug the ground for all you're worth then," the other told him.
"I am, till I can hardly breathe," replied Pudge. "How long are we goingto stay here do you think, Frank?"
"Not a great while, if we know it," came the answer, which proved thatFrank, as usual, was already figuring on some masterly move.
"But think of the nerve of the Germans occupying that windmill rightback of the British lines, would you?" exclaimed Billy, as though thatfact interested him more than anything else.
"Well, you can expect nearly anything in this desperate fighting," Franktold him. "Only the other day I was reading about a case where they hadmade a fort out of an old windmill that had a concrete foundation andwalls. The Allies tried ever so many times to dislodge the Germansharpshooters, but couldn't. Then the airmen took a hand, but failed todrop a bomb where it would do the business."
"How did they manage it in the end, Frank?" asked Billy, always eager tohear the explanation of any puzzle.
"After they had lost a lot of men in direct assaults, the Allies dug atunnel up under the windmill, laid a mine, and exploded it," Frankcontinued.
"And that did the business, did it?" questioned Pudge, also deeplyinterested for personal reasons.
"It shattered things, and killed every German in the place," said Frank."Do you know they found more than a dozen quick-firing guns there? Theyhad made it a regular fort, even though they knew not a single man ofthem could ever escape in the end."
"But how can we dig a tunnel without the tools?" demanded Pudge, almostpathetically, "and what have we got to blow them up with, I want toknow?"
Billy laughed derisively.
"We couldn't if we would, Pudge," he remarked, "and we wouldn't if wecould. We came over here on business for the _Sea Eagle Company,Limited_, and not to take a hand in shortening the supply of theKaiser's brave soldiers."
"Then what are we meaning to do about it?" the fat boy kept on asking."I want to know, because to tell you the truth, I'm not feeling verycomfortable right now."
"Frank, have you thought up that scheme yet?" asked Billy, just asindifferently as though it might be the regular program for Frank tofigure out a method of escaping from each and every ill that beset them.
"I think there's a way to do it," Frank responded. "This swale we'relying in, as near as I can tell, keeps right along in a crooked fashion,but always bearing in a direction that will take us away from thewindmill."
"Oh! that's the game, then, is it?" cried Billy. "You lead off, and wefollow after you like a trailing snake? Well, I'm pretty good on thecrawl, and when it's necessary I can wriggle to beat the band."
"Yes," sang out Pudge with a groan, "but how about me? I'm not built tomake a good wriggler, and you know it, fellows. It's going to be awfultough on a fellow whose body is so thick that it looms up above thesheltering bank some of the time. I'll be fairly riddled with shot,sooner or later. Please tell me how I'm going to manage it, won't you?"
"There's only one thing for you to do, Pudge," Billy jeered.
"What's that?" asked the unhappy Pudge.
"Hug tight where you are, and we'll promise to come back sooner or laterand rescue you, after we've got a bunch of those Tommies to help usout."
Apparently the "last resort" idea did not wholly appeal to Pudge, for hequickly went on to say:
"Guess I'll do the best I can at hunching along after you. Some places Imight manage to roll, you see. But I certainly do hope they won't openfire on me with one of those machine guns that run off a dozen shots asecond."
Frank was already on the move. He may have been sorely puzzled toaccount for this strange and unprovoked attack on them by the unknownparty or parties concealed inside the base of the old windmill; but healso knew that the only thing for them to do was to get away from thedanger zone.
A third shot was heard just about that time, and Pudge gave a groan,which naturally alarmed the other boys.
"Don't tell me you've been hit, Pudge?" called Billy, whose heart was inthe right place, even if he did occasionally joke his stout chum when arollicking humor seized him.
"No, not that I'm aware of," came the answer, "but every time I hearthat gun go off it gives me a fierce start. This thing is even worsethan falling in an aeroplane, and expecting to get smashed when youstrike the ground."
"But we're getting along, remember," said Frank, meaning to encouragethe other.
"And these bends on the dip help to hide us from those Germans backthere in the bargain," added Billy, wishing to contribute his mite ofconsolation.
The French aviator said nothing, though he too must have realized thatthey were all in more or less danger should they expose themselves toorashly. No doubt, those enemies concealed back of the walls of thewindmill base were watching eagerly to catch signs of their presence,and ready to send a storm of deadly missiles that way at the leastinvitation.
Despite his size, Pudge was really making a good job out of it. He coulddo things when he made up his mind to try hard.
They could hear him puffing dreadfully, and making a noise that Billylikened to the blowing of a porpoise as it wallowed in the billows.
"Every foot counts with us, remember, Pudge," said Billy, who was justahead of the fat boy, turning his head to speak, for it was hardly wiseto call out any longer and thus tell the enemy where to fire.
"Mine feel like they were made of lead and I can hardly drag 'em alongafter me," the other replied, mistaking the meaning of Billy's words.
"There goes still another shot; I wonder what they can be shooting at?"
Hearing Billy make this remark, Frank saw fit to answer him.
"I think they must believe we're still hiding somewhere about theseaplane, which is partly visible from the rise; and every now and thenthey take a snap shot to let us know they're on the job."
At hearing that Pudge seemed to feel much easier in his mind, for therewas a joyful strain to his voice when he next spoke in a husky whisperto Billy.
"That lets me out, Billy, and I'll be able to hunch along better afterthis. But let me tell you I'll be mighty glad when it's all over with.I'm scraping my knees something awful, and I'll be lame for days afterthis."
"Well, why complain when you know there are some things a whole lotworse than having scraped knees?" he was told. Apparently this causedPudge to look at things in a different light, for he closed up.
It continued in this fashion for quite some time, until Frank began tobelieve they had gone well beyond the danger zone. When he raised hishead he could not discover the windmill at all, wh
ich was ample proofthat there was no longer anything to fear from that quarter.
He was just about to say something along those lines to the others, whenhe made an unpleasant discovery.
"What are you stopping here for, Frank?" asked Billy, as he and theFrench aviator came crawling up alongside the leader, and he chanced toobserve that Frank was acting rather strangely.
"Because it seems that our further progress is going to be blocked,"replied Frank.
"You're staring hard at that bunch of trees ahead where we were hopingto get on our feet again. What's wrong over yonder?" demanded Billy.
"Only that I've seen signs to tell me there are men hiding in amongthose trees, who have seen us coming, and are waiting to trap us," Franktold him.
Boy Aviators with the Air Raiders: A Story of the Great World War Page 23
