CHAPTER XXXIV.

A FLIGHT OF TERROR.

"Take zees. You need zem. We fly fast. _Très vite._"

De Garros was speaking as he handed Jack a pair of goggles. It was dusk and they, having finished an excellent meal from the aviator's provision pannier, were about to start on their flight across the war-smitten country.

Already the flying man, aided to the best of Jack's ability, had gone over the aircraft, testing every part of it. Everything was in perfect order, from the big Gnome eight-cylindered, self-contained motor, mounted with the big propeller forward, to the last bolt on the dragonfly tail.

Just before full darkness fell, which might have involved them in an accident in rising, de Garros gave the word to get on board. They clambered aboard, Jack with a heart that beat and nerves that throbbed rather more than was comfortable.

There are few people who do not feel a trifle "queer" before their first flight above the earth, and in Jack's case the conditions of danger were multiplied a hundred-fold, for before they had cleared the woods and risen to a safe height they might be the target for German rifles and quick firers. De Garros wore a metal helmet padded inside. Jack had to be content with an old cap that happened to be in the aeroplane, left there by some machinist.

But, as de Garros said, the metal helmet would not be much protection against the projectile of a quick firer, or even a rifle.

The fighting aircraft was fitted with a self-starter, obviating the necessity of swinging the great propeller.

"All ready?" asked the Frenchman of Jack, who sat behind him, tandem wise, in the long, narrow body of the machine.

"Ready," said Jack, in the steadiest voice just then at his command.

"Then up ve go."

The self-starter purred, and then came the roar and a crackle of the exhausts as the propeller swung swiftly till it was a blur. Blue smoke from the castor-oil lubricant spouted, mingled with flame, into the thickening air of the evening. The wholesome smell of the wood was drowned in the reek of gasoline and oil fumes.

"Gracious, if there are any Germans within a mile, they'll hear this racket," thought Jack, with a gulp. "It sounds like a battery of gatling guns."

De Garros took his foot from the brake lever and the machine darted forward. Jack clutched the sides desperately till his knuckles showed white through the skin. Then he gave a shout of alarm.

The machine had suddenly reared up like a startled horse. The jolting and bumping of the "take-off" stopped. The boy realized with a thrill that they were flying.

At that instant from the trees on one side of the clearing burst several Uhlans.

"Germans!" cried Jack.

"Maledictions!" exclaimed the Frenchman.

For a second or two the Uhlans stood paralyzed as the machine shot upward. They had heard the staccato rattle of the engine from where they lay camped, not far off in the same woods that had sheltered de Garros and Jack. Thinking it betokened a skirmish, they had hastily run toward the noise just in time to see the wasp-like machine whirr its way skyward.

But the machine was not well above the trees when they recovered from their surprise. Rifles were leveled.

"Look out!" cried Jack, "they are going to fire on us."

"Hold tight now, I show you zee trick," rejoined the flying man quietly.

The aeroplane was now above the wood which on that side was a mere belt of tall trees. Suddenly the machine ceased its upward flight. It rocketed downward like a stone. Above it bullets whistled harmlessly as the Uhlans fired at the place where it had been and was not.

The ground rushed up to meet them as the machine plummeted downward. Jack's head swam dizzily.

"We'll be killed sure!" he thought, but strangely enough, without much emotion, except a dull feeling that the end was at hand. Then just as disaster seemed inevitable, the machine suddenly began to soar again as Jack could have sworn it grazed the tall grass.

Up and up they shot, in a long series of circles, and then de Garros turned and grinned at Jack, showing his white teeth.

"'Ow you like?" he asked.

"I--I guess. I'll tell you after a while" rejoined Jack, with suspended judgment.

The earth lay far below them now, although it was still light enough to see the fields marked off like the squares on a chess board and the countless fires of the Germans that dotted the landscape almost as far as could be seen. At every one of them were men, who, if any accident befell the machine and it had to descend, would make things very interesting for the air travelers.

Jack could not help thinking of this as the aeroplane flew steadily along, her motor buzzing with an even sound that told all was going well. But he knew they were not out of danger yet.

A hundred things might befall before they arrived safely in Louvain.