Chapter XVI: Drawn From the Depths

"WELL, Mr. Roque, if you did not get Filimonoff this trip, you struck mighty close to him, for I'll warrant the man whom Schneider vanquished was a leader in the Cossack horde."

"And something of a fighter, you might add, Stanislaws," rejoined the secret agent. "But there's another day, and the kingpin and I may yet lock horns."

The aviation party was again at Galician headquarters, and the interesting invalid, Schneider, was already declaring that he was as good as ever.

Roque had a grouch, chafing because of the delay of the Austrian forces in getting through to the relief of Przemysl.

"Just think what might be done if we had enough flying machines, Zeppelins and aëroplanes, to bring over an army corps every week or so." This idea expressed by the ever-enthusiastic Stanislaws.

"You are not talking airship now, Stanny; it's an air castle you have in mind."

This pleasantry on the part of Billy turned the laugh on the Austrian aviator, in which he joined himself.

"There's one thing sure," finally declared Roque, "I know of at least two airships that are soon to sail over the heads of the Russians who are now blocking the way to the fortress."

"I just knew he would be pushing something across before long," said Henri to his chum.

"From the way he looked at us when he spoke, it's safe to believe that we will be somewhere behind the push."

Billy had a hunch that his job was secure whenever Roque had work above ground.

Schneider had heard enough to set him at the task of cleaning and polishing 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 on a 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 condensed foodstuff possible.

"Maybe he is figuring on a chance of a lay-up in the mountains," suggested Stanislaws, detailed to assist the younger aviators in the work of preparation.

"'Maybe' is a good word to use in connection with the moves of the chief, for you can't prove anything by us."

The present was all that counted with the busy lads, hustling to complete their immediate assignment.

"Ready and waiting," they soon announced to the chief, who simply nodded approval, and went on with the work in which he was engaged--studying and making field maps.

Henri put in the spare time afforded with continuous instruction of his chum in the German language, Billy having already acquired, by hard knocks, talking knowledge of French. They were thus occupied one morning, when Schneider appeared, in war-like array, with brief order.

"Buckle up."

Roque found everything in shipshape for the getaway, and smiled at the impatience of Schneider, who had been stamping around the hangars since the first glimpse of daylight.

While the young pilots were drawing to the elbows their fleece-lined gauntlets, the secret agent was earnestly assuring the commander of the garrison of his belief that the way would very soon open for the long-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 word to go.

As the biplanes shot through space, only Roque, the directing power, had knowledge of their destination, though Schneider inferred that the finish would be somewhere in the thick of battle.

This inference was not far amiss, for when the aircraft finally slackened speed, and stood still against the blue vault of heaven, still as the condor floating above his native mountains, the aviators looked down upon a thick forest of bayonets, shown on all sides by the square formation of the Austrian forces, then endeavoring to pierce the Russian 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 intense for weeks, the two armies contending desperately for the ridges, the possession of which would give advantage to the holders. Every concession of a few yards of the rocky slopes had exacted heavy toll of lives.

Behind the Austrian lines at Lupkow the aviators made landing, descending through a sea of smoke, and amid deafening roar of furious conflict.

Roque had hasty conference with the commanding officers, and outlined conditions at the great underground fortress, to save which this day's engagement had been planned.

Schneider and the boys had received orders from their chief to stand by the aëroplanes, and on no account to leave their posts.

"He evidently does not believe there is much of a show of smashing the Russian barrier to-day," observed the firebrand, who little relished the infliction of standing still in the rear while so much powder was being burned in front.

It was soon apparent, the way the tide of battle was turning, that the rear of the Austrian position would not be such a lonesome place after all. Retreat had begun, and immediately Roque emerged from the ruck.

"This isn't our day," was the news he brought; "get under way or you will get under foot."

It was a stirring scene that spread under the rising biplanes, the massed formation attacks of the Austrians hurled back again and again by the sheer weight of the Russians, pouring men forward in seemingly unending numbers.

"They're thicker than flies in Egypt," growled Schneider, when his soldierly eye perceived that the Austrians could no longer stand the pressure of the numbers arrayed against them, and that the day was lost.

The aviators decided to adopt the manner of the eagle and nest high that night. They found a level on a mountain peak not very far removed from the clouds.

"You could cut the stillness up here with a knife," asserted Billy, and his companions agreed that there was a decided difference between the shell-rent territory from which they had just flown and the awesome silence of this sublime height.

"It might also be mentioned that the cold on this top could be sawed into chunks," put in Henri, taking the precaution of covering the motor tanks with blankets.

Schneider volunteered to skirmish for some material with which to establish a campfire, while the boys busied themselves in opening some of 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 the drear surroundings and the oppressive lack of all sound.

"We had better do some scouting; I'll go daffy with this waiting business."

"I'm with you, Billy," joined in Henri, "anything but sitting 'round here doing nothing."

The boys lost no time in picking their way through the rocks in the direction taken by their absent companions.

"Let's give them a shout," suggested Billy, himself acting first on the suggestion.

No answer to the shouters, when they paused at intervals, hoping for the welcome response.

Stumbling along, careless now of bumps and bruises, the lads so often raised their voices to high pitch that they were hoarse from the effort.

Rounding a huge boulder that blocked their path, Billy, who was in the lead, suddenly started back with a cry of alarm, and Henri instinctively threw his arms about the waist of his chum.

Lucky move, this, for the Bangor boy was in the closest kind of way connected with a mass of crumbling earth that swept with a slight rumble into the darksome depths of Uzsok pass.

Henri's strong pull landed both boys on their backs--but on the safe side of the boulder.

"Narrow shave that, old boy," murmured Billy, raising himself on his elbow, and reaching for the hand of his chum, "and it's to you that I owe----"

"No more of that," interrupted Henri, "it's only a rare occasion when you were not doing something for me. I think we can account now for the 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, and we will never quit searching as long as there's a speck of hope."

Gingerly skirting the boulder, he found solid ground on the higher side, to the right of the treacherous spot on which he had so narrowly escaped a long fall.

Stretched out full length at the verge of the steep descent, Billy peered into the depths, giving vent to several ear-splitting whoops in rapid succession.

A faint halloo finally came back from the dim recesses of the pass.

"Glory be!" cried the strenuous hailer, "there is somebody below--and that somebody is alive!" Through the hollow of his hands Billy shouted words of encouragement to the unseen owner of the voice answering from the bush-grown wall of the chasm.

"It's a clear drop of twenty feet, and smooth as a billiard ball before the 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 the venturesome prober of the pass mystery.

"Oh, for an hour more of daylight," lamented Billy, as dusk began to envelop 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," objected Henri.

"Where's your wits, Buddy? What do we carry searchlights for?"

"I sure am a woodenpate," admitted Henri, using a fist to tap his forehead; "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 the biplanes, fore and aft, the young aviators sailed through the shadows, got their bearings from the big rock and fearlessly swooped into the lower strata.

The glittering gondola of the air trailed a line of illumination along the rugged face of the chasm wall, but in the first passing, Henri, as observed, gave no signal of discovery.

The insistent hum of the motors prevented the hearing of any hail that might be given from without, and as effectually drowned any call from within the machine.

"Another round, Billy boy," shouted Henri, "a little lower down."

The next circle and come-back brought results, attested by a gleeful hurrah from the observer.

"There's a man on the ledge over there--there's two, by jingo! Round again, pard. Steady now!"

The aëroplane was dangerously near the ledge, a little above it. Henri was standing, one hand gripping a stay for balance, and in the other grasping a ball of whipcord. With a sharp turn the pilot nosed away, the tail lights of the machine gleamed full for an instant upon the 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 biplane made almost perpendicular ascent, it tugged, kite like, at a long line of 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 first level, and both boys, under the glare of the searchlight, speedily spliced and knotted two coils of fine-fibered rope, part of the flying equipment.

Henri, leaning over the edge, drew the cord connection taut, indicating to the holders below that all was ready at the top. The boy felt sure that Roque would understand--for it was Roque he had seen in the circle of light when the ball was thrown.

Sure enough, the cord was drawn downward, and the rope followed the cord, with, happily, plenty to spare for the making of a safe and secure anchorage.

"Roque is something of a sailor, as we know, and he'll come up all right, with a good purchase for his feet against the wall. As for Schneider, the three of us can hoist him, if necessary."

Billy's advance arrangement went somewhat awry, for it was Schneider's red top showing first in the light over the brink, and Roque was the one hauled, almost a dead weight, to solid ground and safety at the end of the swaying rope, looped under his armpits.

The secret agent's right hand rested in an improvised handkerchief sling, and his face was set in the pallor of pain.

But how strangely gentle had grown the piercing fixity of those hard-speaking eyes when turned upon the rescuers who had dared so much in a feat wonderful to record in aviation annals.

"You might have waited until daylight," he chided, his voice freighted with emotion, "and with less risk to yourselves."

"And the morning found a couple of maniacs cavorting around this wilderness. No, sir, the rest cure wouldn't have been the right prescription 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.