s high-powered
rifle turned upward, continually sought a target through the leaves. In
those moments of danger and fierce anger he did not have left a single
scruple against taking the life of man. They had hunted him
remorselessly in a strange and terrific way. His first illusion that
they were gigantic birds of prey remained, and he would be doing a
service to the world, if he slew them.

A rifle cracked almost in his ear and Wharton uttered a little cry of
disappointment.

"I heard the bullet thud on the metal side of that Taube," he said. "It
isn't fair fighting us this way."

Then he and John, following the suggestion of Carstairs, promptly moved
to another point in the bushes. Three bullets from the Taubes struck
near the place they had just left. But John still watching had caught
sight of a head and body, the two hands grasping a rifle projecting over
the side of a Taube. Quick as a flash he fired, and with an aim that was
literally as sure as death.

The man in the Taube heaved up, as if wrenched by an electric shock,
then plunged head-foremost over the side and fell clear, his rifle
dropping before him. John caught a swift vision of a falling figure
sprawled out hideously, and then he heard the rending crash of twigs and
branches followed by a heavy thump. His heart thrilled with horror.
Those were human beings after all, up there in the air, and not primeval
birds of prey.

"That one!" said Wharton. "Good shot, Scott!"

John's horror passed. He was still fighting for his life, and it was the
men in the air who had attacked. He moved away again and by chance he
came to the tiny brook, on which the bushes were strung like a thread.
Lying flat on his face he drank, and he was astonished to find that he
was so thirsty. Rising to his knees he glanced at his comrades and at
the hovering aeroplanes. They had flown high out of the reach of
bullets, and had drawn together as if for council. One of the horses
rearing and threshing with fright had been killed by shots from the
aeroplanes, but John did not notice it, until this moment. The other two
tethered by their bridles to bushes had tried to break loose, but had
failed. Now they were trembling all over, and were covered with
perspiration. John felt sorry for them.

But the water had refreshed him wonderfully. He had not known before how
hot and dry his throat had become. He invited his comrades to drink too,
and they followed his example. Then they lay on