The Guns of Europe

"They're talking of it. But John, look toward the east!"

The Arrow had dropped down low, toward a wood, until it almost lay against the tops of the trees, blending with their leaves. Lannes pointed with the finger of his free hand, after passing his glasses to John.

John saw puffs of flame and white smoke, and the dim outline of masses of men in gray, moving forward. From another line farther west came the blaze of many cannon.

"Our men are making a stand," said Lannes. "Perhaps it's to gain time. But whatever the reason, you and I hope it will be successful."

"And we may save our Paris," said John.

He was not conscious that he used the pronoun "our". He had become so thoroughly identified with the cause for which he fought that it seemed natural. The battle deepened in fury and volume. Although far away John felt the air quivering with the roar of the great cannonade. They rose somewhat higher and each took his turn at the glasses. John was awed by the spectacle. As far as he could see, and he could see far, men, perhaps a half million of them, were engaged in mortal struggle. The whole country seemed to roar and blaze and innumerable manikins moved over the hills and valleys.

Above the thunder of this battle rose a mighty crash that sent the air rolling in circular waves. The Arrow quivered and then Lannes dropped it down several hundred yards, in order that they might get a better view.

"It's one of their giant guns, a 42 centimeter," he said, "and it's posted on that hill over to our right. I didn't think they could bring so big a gun in the pursuit, but it seems that they have been able to do so."

"And it's plumping shells more than a ton in weight, right into the middle of the Franco-British army."

"It would seem so, and doubtless they're doing terrible destruction."

John was silent for a moment or two. He had felt an inspiration. It was a terrible and dangerous impulse, but he meant to act upon it.

"Philip," he said, "have you any bombs with you?"

"A good supply, John. But why?"

"I propose that you and I fly over the mammoth gun and blow it up."

Lannes turned a little in his seat, and stared at his comrade.

"I hold that against you," he said.

"Why?"

"Because I didn't think of it first. I'm considered reckless, and it's the sort of enterprise that ought to have occurred to me. Instead the idea comes to you, a reserved and conservative sort of a fellow. But John, you and I will try it. We'll either blow up that gun or die for France. Search the heavens with the glasses, and see if any of the German flyers are near."

"There are some dots far off toward the east, but I don't think they're near enough to interfere with us."

"Then well try for the gun at once. We've got to sink low to be sure of our aim, and for that reason, John, I'm going to ask you to drop the bombs, while I steer. But don't do it, until I say ready because I mean to go pretty close to the 'Busy Bertha.'"

"Good enough," said John, as Lannes passed him the bombs. His hand was perfectly steady and so was that of Lannes on the steering rudder, as they made a gentle curve toward the point, from which the mighty crash had come. John knew that the bombs would not make a destructive impression upon those vast tubes of steel, but he hoped to strike the caisson or ammunition supply behind, and blow up one or two of the shells themselves, involving everything in a common ruin. But to do so he knew that they must fly very low, exposing themselves to the danger of return fire from the Germans.

"I can see the gun now," said Lannes. "The gunners are all around it, and infantry with rifles are near, but I'm going to make a swoop within five hundred feet of it. Whenever we're directly over it drop two of the bombs. It may be, it's most likely in fact, that neither will hit, but I'll swoop down again and again, until we do, unless they get us first."

"I'm ready," said John, who had steeled every nerve, "and I'll do my best."

He felt the rush of air as the Arrow increased her speed, and shot downward in a slanting curve, and he heard also a shout from below, as the sinister shadow of the aeroplane showed black between the gunners and the sky.

He leaned over and watched. He saw hundreds of eyes turned upward, and he heard the crackle of many rifles, as they sent their bullets toward the Arrow. Some whistled near, but the darting target, high in air, was hard to hit and none touched it.

John paid no heed to the bullets, but watched the huge cannon with its monstrous mouth upturned at a sharp angle to the sky. When he thought they were directly over it he hurled two of the bombs at the caisson, but they missed. They struck among the men, and several were killed, but the gun and its equipment remained unharmed.

"Never mind," said Lannes, knowing that John felt chagrin. "You came pretty close for a first trial. Now, ready, I'm going to swoop back again."

The second attempt was not quite as good as the first, and a bullet tipped John's ear, drawing blood. Off in the east the black specks were growing larger, and they knew but little time was left to them now. The German aeroplanes were coming.

The third swoop and with an eye and hand in perfect accord John threw once and then twice. A terrific roar came from below. The giant cannon had been blown from its concrete bed and lay a vast mass of shattered steel and iron, with dead and dying men around it.

"One mighty blow for France!" exclaimed Lannes, and exultant they flew westward, dipping low, now and then behind the trees to hide their flight.

"Well consider it a good omen," said John.

"Are any of the Taubes pursuing now?" said Lannes.

"There's nothing in sight," replied John, after a long examination through the glasses.

"Then, they can't find us," exclaimed Lannes, joyfully, "and now for glorious Paris!"