fight, were to be a high hill, a low hill, and a small stream flowing
between. Just behind it they would find a great French army marching
northward and their errand would be over. He did not yet see the hills,
but he was sure that he was still in the pathway of the air.

He had left Paris far behind, but when he looked down he saw a beautiful
country, a fertile land upon which man had worked for two thousand
years, too beautiful to be trodden to pieces by armies. He saw the
cultivated fields, varying in color like a checker board, and the neat
villages with trees about them. Here and there the spire of a church
rose high above everything. Churches and wars were so numerous in
Europe!

John checked the speed of the _Arrow_. He was afraid, despite all his
high resolve, to fly fast, and then he must not go beyond the army for
which he was looking. He dropped a little lower as he was passing over a
wood, and then he heard the crack of rifles beneath him. Bullets whizzed
and sang past his ears and he took one fearful glance downward.

He saw men, spiked helmets on their heads, galloping among the trees,
and he knew that they were a daring band of Uhlans, actually scouting
inside the French lines. They were shooting at the _Arrow_ and firing
fast.

He attempted to rise so suddenly that the plane gave a violent jerk and
quivered in every fiber. He thought for a moment they were going to
fall, and the sickening sensation at his heart was overpowering. But the
trusty _Arrow_ ceased quivering, and then rose swiftly at an angle not
too great.