CHAPTER XVI.
DRAWN FROM THE DEPTHS.
"WELL, Mr. Roque, if you did not get Filimonoff this trip, you struckmighty close to him, for I'll warrant the man whom Schneider vanquishedwas a leader in the Cossack horde."
"And something of a fighter, you might add, Stanislaws," rejoined thesecret agent. "But there's another day, and the kingpin and I may yetlock horns."
The aviation party was again at Galician headquarters, and theinteresting invalid, Schneider, was already declaring that he was asgood as ever.
Roque had a grouch, chafing because of the delay of the Austrian forcesin getting through to the relief of Przemysl.
"Just think what might be done if we had enough flying machines,Zeppelins and aeroplanes, to bring over an army corps every week orso." This idea expressed by the ever-enthusiastic Stanislaws.
"You are not talking airship now, Stanny; it's an air castle you havein mind."
This pleasantry on the part of Billy turned the laugh on the Austrianaviator, in which he joined himself.
"There's one thing sure," finally declared Roque, "I know of at leasttwo airships that are soon to sail over the heads of the Russians whoare now blocking the way to the fortress."
"I just knew he would be pushing something across before long," saidHenri to his chum.
"From the way he looked at us when he spoke, it's safe to believe thatwe will be somewhere behind the push."
Billy had a hunch that his job was secure whenever Roque had work aboveground.
Schneider had heard enough to set him at the task of cleaning andpolishing his personal stock of firearms.
The four biplanes returned that very night to the besieged fortress,from which two of the machines were destined to leave in short order ona most important and perilous journey.
Our boys had instructions to give the aircraft a thorough going over,fill the petrol tanks to utmost capacity, and carry all the condensedfoodstuff possible.
"Maybe he is figuring on a chance of a lay-up in the mountains,"suggested Stanislaws, detailed to assist the younger aviators in thework of preparation.
"'Maybe' is a good word to use in connection with the moves of thechief, for you can't prove anything by us."
The present was all that counted with the busy lads, hustling tocomplete their immediate assignment.
"Ready and waiting," they soon announced to the chief, who simplynodded approval, and went on with the work in which he wasengaged--studying and making field maps.
Henri put in the spare time afforded with continuous instruction ofhis chum in the German language, Billy having already acquired, byhard knocks, talking knowledge of French. They were thus occupied onemorning, when Schneider appeared, in war-like array, with brief order.
"Buckle up."
Roque found everything in shipshape for the getaway, and smiled at theimpatience of Schneider, who had been stamping around the hangars sincethe first glimpse of daylight.
While the young pilots were drawing to the elbows their fleece-linedgauntlets, the secret agent was earnestly assuring the commander ofthe garrison of his belief that the way would very soon open for thelong-expected relieving force.
"I think I can advise them to good effect if we get through in safety,"he said, mounting his perch in the biplane, and giving Billy the wordto go.
As the biplanes shot through space, only Roque, the directing power,had knowledge of their destination, though Schneider inferred that thefinish would be somewhere in the thick of battle.
This inference was not far amiss, for when the aircraft finallyslackened speed, and stood still against the blue vault of heaven,still as the condor floating above his native mountains, the aviatorslooked down upon a thick forest of bayonets, shown on all sides by thesquare formation of the Austrian forces, then endeavoring to pierce theRussian front near Lupkow and thus relieve Przemysl.
"We are in the Carpathians," Schneider advised his flying mate.
The fighting in these mountains had then been continuous and intensefor weeks, the two armies contending desperately for the ridges,the possession of which would give advantage to the holders. Everyconcession of a few yards of the rocky slopes had exacted heavy toll oflives.
Behind the Austrian lines at Lupkow the aviators made landing,descending through a sea of smoke, and amid deafening roar of furiousconflict.
Roque had hasty conference with the commanding officers, and outlinedconditions at the great underground fortress, to save which this day'sengagement had been planned.
Schneider and the boys had received orders from their chief to stand bythe aeroplanes, and on no account to leave their posts.
"He evidently does not believe there is much of a show of smashing theRussian barrier to-day," observed the firebrand, who little relishedthe infliction of standing still in the rear while so much powder wasbeing burned in front.
It was soon apparent, the way the tide of battle was turning, that therear of the Austrian position would not be such a lonesome place afterall. Retreat had begun, and immediately Roque emerged from the ruck.
"This isn't our day," was the news he brought; "get under way or youwill get under foot."
It was a stirring scene that spread under the rising biplanes, themassed formation attacks of the Austrians hurled back again and againby the sheer weight of the Russians, pouring men forward in seeminglyunending numbers.
"They're thicker than flies in Egypt," growled Schneider, when hissoldierly eye perceived that the Austrians could no longer stand thepressure of the numbers arrayed against them, and that the day was lost.
The aviators decided to adopt the manner of the eagle and nest highthat night. They found a level on a mountain peak not very far removedfrom the clouds.
"You could cut the stillness up here with a knife," asserted Billy, andhis companions agreed that there was a decided difference between theshell-rent territory from which they had just flown and the awesomesilence of this sublime height.
"It might also be mentioned that the cold on this top could be sawedinto chunks," put in Henri, taking the precaution of covering the motortanks with blankets.
Schneider volunteered to skirmish for some material with which toestablish a campfire, while the boys busied themselves in opening someof the tins enclosing the food supply.
Roque found consolation in keeping alight a long black cigar.
Presently he concluded to follow in the footsteps of the wood hunter,and hasten the prospect of a cheery blaze by the time night should fall.
With the passing of an hour or more, and no sign of the fuel seekers,Billy and Henri developed an uneasy streak, rendered more acute by thedrear surroundings and the oppressive lack of all sound.
"We had better do some scouting; I'll go daffy with this waitingbusiness."
"I'm with you, Billy," joined in Henri, "anything but sitting 'roundhere doing nothing."
The boys lost no time in picking their way through the rocks in thedirection taken by their absent companions.
"Let's give them a shout," suggested Billy, himself acting first on thesuggestion.
No answer to the shouters, when they paused at intervals, hoping forthe welcome response.
Stumbling along, careless now of bumps and bruises, the lads so oftenraised their voices to high pitch that they were hoarse from the effort.
Rounding a huge boulder that blocked their path, Billy, who wasin the lead, suddenly started back with a cry of alarm, and Henriinstinctively threw his arms about the waist of his chum.
Lucky move, this, for the Bangor boy was in the closest kind of wayconnected with a mass of crumbling earth that swept with a slightrumble into the darksome depths of Uzsok pass.
Henri's strong pull landed both boys on their backs--but on the safeside of the boulder.
"Narrow shave that, old boy," murmured Billy, raising himself on hiselbow, and reaching for the hand of his chum, "and it's to you that Iowe----"
"No more of that," interrupted Henri, "it's only a rare
occasion whenyou were not doing something for me. I think we can account now forthe disappearance of Roque and Schneider. It completely unnerves me,though, to believe that our companions are lost in this abyss."
Billy was on his feet in an instant, alert and resourceful.
"There's a way of finding out whether or not they are down there, andwe will never quit searching as long as there's a speck of hope."
Gingerly skirting the boulder, he found solid ground on the higherside, to the right of the treacherous spot on which he had so narrowlyescaped a long fall.
Stretched out full length at the verge of the steep descent, Billypeered into the depths, giving vent to several ear-splitting whoops inrapid succession.
A faint halloo finally came back from the dim recesses of the pass.
"Glory be!" cried the strenuous hailer, "there is somebody below--andthat somebody is alive!" Through the hollow of his hands Billy shoutedwords of encouragement to the unseen owner of the voice answering fromthe bush-grown wall of the chasm.
"It's a clear drop of twenty feet, and smooth as a billiard ball beforethe growth begins and the rocks shelve out," Billy advised his chum,the latter to the rear and maintaining a firm grip on the ankles of theventuresome prober of the pass mystery.
"Oh, for an hour more of daylight," lamented Billy, as dusk began toenvelop the lonely mountain. "Gee! Why didn't I think of it before?"Imbued with his new idea, he quickly swung around, bounced to his feet,hauled Henri up by the wrists, and triumphantly demanded:
"What's the matter with flying around there in the machine?"
"But it's getting too dark now to see anything in that hole," objectedHenri.
"Where's your wits, Buddy? What do we carry searchlights for?"
"I sure am a woodenpate," admitted Henri, using a fist to tap hisforehead; "let's go to the biplane as fast as our legs will carry us."
The boys raced like mad for camp.
With every light available from both machines set in one of thebiplanes, fore and aft, the young aviators sailed through the shadows,got their bearings from the big rock and fearlessly swooped into thelower strata.
The glittering gondola of the air trailed a line of illumination alongthe rugged face of the chasm wall, but in the first passing, Henri, asobserved, gave no signal of discovery.
The insistent hum of the motors prevented the hearing of any hail thatmight be given from without, and as effectually drowned any call fromwithin the machine.
"Another round, Billy boy," shouted Henri, "a little lower down."
The next circle and come-back brought results, attested by a gleefulhurrah from the observer.
"There's a man on the ledge over there--there's two, by jingo! Roundagain, pard. Steady now!"
The aeroplane was dangerously near the ledge, a little above it.Henri was standing, one hand gripping a stay for balance, and in theother grasping a ball of whipcord. With a sharp turn the pilot nosedaway, the tail lights of the machine gleamed full for an instant uponthe dark figures silhouetted on the rock face, and in that precious,fleeting instant, with a round arm swing, Henri sent the cord ball,unwinding as it dropped, straight down upon the ledge.
"Up!" sang out the maker of the successful throw, and as the biplanemade almost perpendicular ascent, it tugged, kite like, at a long lineof cord, paid out by one of the men left behind on the rocky shelf.
Once out of the canyon, the pilot checked his flight at the firstlevel, and both boys, under the glare of the searchlight, speedilyspliced and knotted two coils of fine-fibered rope, part of the flyingequipment.
Henri, leaning over the edge, drew the cord connection taut, indicatingto the holders below that all was ready at the top. The boy felt surethat Roque would understand--for it was Roque he had seen in the circleof light when the ball was thrown.
Sure enough, the cord was drawn downward, and the rope followed thecord, with, happily, plenty to spare for the making of a safe andsecure anchorage.
"Roque is something of a sailor, as we know, and he'll come up allright, with a good purchase for his feet against the wall. As forSchneider, the three of us can hoist him, if necessary."
Billy's advance arrangement went somewhat awry, for it was Schneider'sred top showing first in the light over the brink, and Roque was theone hauled, almost a dead weight, to solid ground and safety at the endof the swaying rope, looped under his armpits.
The secret agent's right hand rested in an improvised handkerchiefsling, and his face was set in the pallor of pain.
But how strangely gentle had grown the piercing fixity of thosehard-speaking eyes when turned upon the rescuers who had dared so muchin a feat wonderful to record in aviation annals.
"You might have waited until daylight," he chided, his voice freightedwith emotion, "and with less risk to yourselves."
"And the morning found a couple of maniacs cavorting around thiswilderness. No, sir, the rest cure wouldn't have been the rightprescription for us. Eh, Henri?"
"He's as right as a trivet, Mr. Roque; we took the proper tonic,"assured Henri.
"A man's size swallow for all that," was Schneider's amen.