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By a certain point of identification all of the fliers knew Dusseldorf when that large factory center was reached. So far they had not seen an enemy plane. Essen was not far ahead now. Searchlights had been semaphoring over more than one town they had passed, but not until they had come over Dusseldorf did any of the Hun eyes from below see them.
The Hun smiled in his relief, passed a cheery word with his lieutenant, and then scanned the broad plain with his field glasses. Back and forth they swept across the rolling land until at last they came to rest upon a point near the center of the landscape and close to the green-fringed contours of the river. "We are in luck," said Schneider to his companions. "Do you see it?"
The matter was impersonal, the groaning Hun was a Hun, not an individuality. . . . A couple of men, mud-caked and weary, with a Lewis gun between them, are peering over the top in an early light of dawn. Beside them there are others: tense, with every nerve alert, looking fixedly into the grey shadows, wondering, a little jumpy. "Wot is it, Bill?"
Once they spied and shelled a German submarine, but she escaped. This incident greatly enraged the crew of the gun that missed her. It was not the gun to the crew of which Whistler and Torry belonged. "Can't expect to get the Hun every time," was the soothing remark of one of the division captains. "Why not?" asked somebody else. "That's what we are here for, isn't it?
"Lord, send me an even break against one of those Hun machinegunners some day! If " Again Mahan failed to finish his train of thought. He stared open-mouthed up the hill. Almost at the very summit, within a rod or two of the point where the crest would intervene between him and his foes, Bruce whirled in mid-air and fell prone. The fast-following swaths of machine-gun bullets had not reached him.
As an illustration of the complete change in the rivers, we may take Polo's statement that a certain river, the Hun Ho, was so large and deep that merchants ascended it from the sea with heavily laden boats; today this river is simply a broad sandy bed, with shallow, rapid currents wandering hither and thither across it, absolutely unnavigable. But we do not have to depend upon written records.
Then he pulled off his loose shirt and rolled up his trousers. They saw other scars in the big muscles before the armpits, in the soft flesh under the ribs, in the thighs and calves. "The dirty Hun!" Tim grated. "That was not all, Senhor Tim. They also put fire ants on me, which bit so cruelly that I nearly lost my mind from pain.
The wilful wickedness and pettiness of the crime stir one's heart to pity and his soul to white-hot anger. The people who did this must make payment in more than money; to settle such a debt blood is required. American soldiers who came to Europe to do a job and with no decided detestation of the Hun, are being taught by such landscapes. They know now why they came.
We'd pushed the Hun back frae a' that country I'd visited I'd seen Vimy Ridge, and Peronne, and a' the other places. I told what I'd seen. I told the way the Hun worked. And I spoke for the Liberty Loans and the other drives they were making to raise money in America the Red Cross, the Y. M. C. A., the Salvation Army, the Knights of Columbus, and a score of others.
And now, as always, he wondered how this fair young girl could find courage to smile in the very presence of the most dreadful death any living woman could suffer death from the Hun. He lay looking at her and she at him, for a while. In the silence, a dry stick snapped and McKay was on his feet as though it had been the crack of a pistol.
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