A Hero of Liége: A Story of the Great WarStrang, Herbert
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A Hero of Liége: A Story of the Great War
Strang, Herbert
World War, 1914-1918 -- France -- Juvenile fiction
After five minutes’ talk with Pariset, out of earshot of the people, who
had gathered about at a little distance, they once more took the air.
They had managed to compress a good deal into that brief conversation.
Pariset had accepted Kenneth’s suggestion with delight. The problem,
they agreed, was twofold: they had first to deal with the escort, then
with the guns--if they were guns. When they soared away over the meadow
they had formed a clear idea of the means by which they would attempt to
solve it.
Making a wide sweep, east, north, and west, they approached the causeway
south of the spot where the breakdown had occurred. The sight of a
Taube monoplane flying obliquely over the road aroused curiosity but no
suspicion in the minds of the Germans. But suddenly one of them gave a
shout. Next moment a small bomb fell close beside one of the lorries,
throwing up a shower of dust and stones. The engineers scuttled away;
the troopers rushed to their horses, which, startled by the noise of the
explosion, were threatening to stampede.
Pariset banked the aeroplane steeply and wheeled round. As it passed
again over the causeway, Kenneth dropped another bomb, which fell close
to the first. The men on foot were rushing wildly up the road; on the
open fields there was no cover. Most of the troopers had mounted; some
had seized their rifles and were firing. But the sight of the aeroplane
wheeling again struck them with panic, and with a shout they dashed
after their comrades, galloping across the fields.
The aeroplane followed up the fugitives. Owing to its speed, Pariset
had to steer a zigzag course in order not to overtake them. Each time
it wheeled he contrived to bring it close behind the rearmost horseman,
like a sheep dog driving a flock, and Kenneth dropped a bomb to hurry
the pace.
They kept up the chase for some minutes; then, there being no sign of
rallying, they darted back to the causeway, where the traction engines
and lorries now stood deserted. The level field on one side afforded a
good alighting place. They came to the ground, sprang from their seats,
and as they ran to the causeway noticed one or two men lying wounded.
"We simply haven’t time to attend to them," panted Pariset. "The
fellows will be riding back in a minute."
They reached the unwieldy vehicles. The impressions of the moment came
back to them afterwards--the huge wheels with their grooved rims, the
deep ruts they had carved in the road. There were plenty of tools lying
about. Kenneth cut the lashings of one of the tarpaulin covers,
stripped off the cover, and found, as he had expected, that beneath it
lay a portion of a huge weapon, half gun, half mortar, with a bore
seventeen inches in diameter.
"It’s not the breech block; try the next lorry," urged Pariset.
"I’ll deal with this; you go on to the next," said Kenneth.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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