The interior was a sad wreck. Piles of plaster lay on the floors, and several rooms looked as though it might be dangerous to try and pass through them. Amos glanced this way and that with something of a shiver. It was as though he half anticipated making some sort of gruesome discovery amidst those telltale rubbish heaps. Fortunately, nothing of the kind happened, and after climbing laboriously for a short time the two boys finally managed to reach the cupola or tower, where they immediately found themselves amply repaid for all their trouble with a wonderful panoramic view. CHAPTER XI. WATCHING THE BATTLE EBB AND FLOW. “It was worth all the trouble, Jack,” admitted Amos. They could see far away beyond where the doomed Belgian village undoubtedly lay. Billows of smoke shrouded most objects, but at times the wind swept this aside, and at such moments they could obtain glimpses of the fighting. In one place they saw solid masses rushing forward with the resistless power of might, to be met with a blast that cut terrible lanes in their closely packed ranks. Amos fairly held his breath as he stared. It seemed almost as though he might be indulging in a nightmare. Then the powder smoke rolled like a curtain between, and the view was shut off. Shells were bursting everywhere, and Jack soon located the hamlet which they had so recently quitted. “They’re at it hammer and tongs around the village, I’m afraid, Amos,” he called out to his companion. “Have you found out where it’s located, Jack?” “Yes, if you watch sharp when the smoke fog opens you can glimpse a few of the houses over that way,” and Jack pointed as he said this. “Yes, I see it now. And how the shells seem to be raining down on that spot. I guess the German gunners have got the range to a fraction. How d’ye think they manage such things, Jack?” “They have the whole country plotted out to begin with, Amos. And then, you see, they get tips by wireless right along.” “Wireless?” echoed Amos. “In a sense, yes. Look up and you’ll see that there are a dozen aeroplanes swooping around like hawks, now fluttering over some particular spot, and dropping a colored signal paper. That is to tell the gunners just how to fire so as to hit what they’re after. Those birdmen have a regular code they use to talk with.” “But surely all of them are not German Taubes, Jack? I can see some that look different in build.” “Those belong to the Allies,” Jack declared with conviction. “But how is it they chase around, often close together, without interfering with each other?” “I suppose that’s because they’re all too busy now sending information of great value to bother with their own little rivalry. Though it may be they take an occasional crack at each other in passing.”