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Altsheler, Joseph A. (Joseph Alexander), 1862-1919

"The Forest of Swords A Story of Paris and the Marne"

Little boughs and leaves cut from the
tree fell to the ground, but the flag, untouched, fluttered defiantly in
the light breeze.
"They're trying to shoot it down," said John, "and with such an unsteady
gun platform they've missed every time."
"I doubt whether they'll continue firing," said Weber. "An aeroplane
doesn't carry any great amount of ammunition and they can't afford to
waste much."
"They're through now," said John. "See, they're flying away toward the
east, and unless my imagination deceives me, their machine actually
looks crestfallen, while our flag is snapping away in the wind, haughty
and defiant."
"A vivid fancy yours, Mr. Scott, but it's easy to imagine that German
machine looking cheap, because that's just the way the men on board it
must feel. Suppose we sit down here and take our ease. No flying man
can see through those vines over our heads, and we can watch in safety.
We're sure to draw other scouts of the air, while for us it's an
interesting and comparatively safe experience."
"Our flag is certainly an attraction," said John, making himself
comfortable on the ground. "There's a bird of passage now, coming down
from the north as swift as a swallow."
"It's a little monoplane," said Weber, "and it certainly resembles a
swallow, as it comes like a flash toward this tree. I thought at first
it might be Lannes in the _Arrow_, but the plane is too small, and it's
of German make."
"I fancy it won't linger long.


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