<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX<br/> <span class="cheaderfont">PARIS PROVES UNFRIENDLY</span></h2>
<p>The course of the <em>Ocean Flyer</em> was altered
slightly so as to avoid passing over England and
risking pot-shots from a people who were already
in a semi-hysteria over the threatened invasion
by German Zeppelins. The next land they saw
was the coast of northern France. They followed
the Norman coast for a short distance and then
once more headed inland.</p>
<p>The flying speed had been reduced to thirty
miles per hour, when the airship first sank to
a three thousand foot level, and, traveling thus
slowly, the boys had a pretty good chance to
observe the country beneath them through their
powerful binoculars.</p>
<p>Normandy, the district where the Airship
Boys first began flying over France, had not yet
been touched by hostile invasion, and, save for
the absence of the usual fleets of fishing smacks
along the coast, was to all appearances the same
quaint, sleepy region as ever. Farther inland,
however, the ravages the war had made were<span class="pagenum">[79]</span>
more plainly visible. Few trains could be seen,
and in many cases railway bridges or the tracks
themselves had been torn up. Fields lay, for
the most part, untilled; smoke no longer belched
from the long, finger-like chimneys of busy
factories. Nantes, Angiers, Le Mans and
Chartres, all huge cities over which the <em>Flyer</em>
passed, showed little activity save that even at
this early hour crowds were congregated in the
principal squares and in front of the government
offices where daily returns from the battle front
were posted.</p>
<p>The appearance of the <em>Ocean Flyer</em> was
invariably the cause of intense excitement.
People scurried frantically about, church bells
rang the alarm and soldiers ran to their posts
on the fortifications. Observed from the boys’
elevated position, the scene greatly resembled an
ant-hill disturbed with a stick.</p>
<p>The city of Chartres was only a comparatively
short flight, even at their reduced speed, for
the boys from Paris, the capital of France.
Twenty minutes after passing over the former
city, the Eiffel Tower, tallest structure in Paris,
appeared, and soon other world-famous landmarks
were easily discernible through the
glasses. There arose the imposing, ages-old<span class="pagenum">[80]</span>
towers of the Notre Dame Cathedral, set on an
island in the middle of the river Seine, which,
under its many handsome bridges, wound like
a silver ribbon through the gray expanse of
buildings which go to make up the fourth largest
city in the world. There lay the Palais Royal,
with its celebrated shops and restaurants; there
the Louvre, Luxembourg and the Tuileries,
stored with priceless art treasures and famous
in history as the palaces of great kings. There
was the green shrubbery of the public parks and
the white, ribbon-like lines which marked the
Bois and the Champs Elysees, those famous
boulevards and promenades of fashion, radiating
from the Tuileries like the points of an immense
star.</p>
<p>But what a vast change from the gay, teeming
metropolis of less than a year previous. The
streets were nearly deserted, the pleasure seekers
were fled before the hot, scathing blast of
war, like chaff in a strong wind; the tables
before the gay little cafes lining the boulevards
were turned bottom-side up and dusty with long
disuse. There was no roar of traffic, no shrill
cries, no rumblings of passenger-filled omnibuses.
The Avenue de l’Opera was as quiet and
deserted as a village street. Automobiles had<span class="pagenum">[81]</span>
disappeared; only here and there meandered
ancient cabs driven by doddering grandfathers
and drawn by skeleton horses with sprung knees.
A mournful, oppressive silence brooded over the
lightest-hearted city in the world.</p>
<p>The grass in the Tuileries gardens was unkept
and stood ankle high. The wooded shades of the
Bois de Boulogne had been turned into a great
pasture for herds of cattle, goats and sheep, to
provide food in case the Germans again succeeded
in actually besieging the city. Palaces
and celebrated public buildings were converted
into hospitals. The young men were all at the
front fighting; only the aged and wounded
remained in Paris.</p>
<p>The city had not yet recovered from its fright
of four months previous when the conquering
regiments of the Kaiser trampled Belgium
underfoot and advanced almost within cannon
range of the walls. Even then the battle was
raging and bayonet charges were daily occurrences
in the trenches less than an hour’s automobile
drive to the northeast.</p>
<p>Lookouts were stationed on all of the higher
buildings to give warning of the approach of
bomb-dropping German aviators in their wide,
white, flat-winged “Taube” aeroplanes.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum">[82]</span></p>
<p>The coming of the huge, shining <em>Ocean Flyer</em>
was seen while it was yet a considerable distance
from the city and a whole flock of French military
aeroplanes arose birdlike into the sky to
meet it. They resembled hornets defending their
nest. As the big airship planed down towards
them with its seventy-two feet of planes, extended
like wings on each side, the flock of smaller
French aircraft shot suddenly apart in different
directions, realizing their helplessness to combat
this new threatening monster of the air. Some
planed down like arrows into the city again
seeking safety. Others began to sweep in wide
circles around the <em>Ocean Flyer</em>, not daring to
approach nearer. The harsh roar of their motors
and propellers could be heard even within the
pilot house where Ned stood guiding the <em>Flyer’s</em>
course.</p>
<p>Then the alarmed Parisians unlimbered their
much-talked-of aerial cannon on this new menace
from the clouds. As each ugly black nozzle was
tilted skywards, there came a puff of greenish
smoke, flame spat forth and a huge shell was
hurled straight at the approaching airship.
Most of these terrible missiles fell far short of
their mark, but the gunners of a battery stationed
in the top of the Eiffel Tower were quick<span class="pagenum">[83]</span>
in getting a better range and made it very
dangerous for the Airship Boys to continue their
descent.</p>
<p>“Holy smoke!” gasped Alan, as one cannon
shell burst with a terrific detonation less than
one hundred feet to the left of the <em>Flyer</em> and
almost keeled it over sidewise. “This is getting
too hot for me. They think we’re a new type
of German Zeppelin. Shoot her up higher, Ned.
Let’s get out of here quick.”</p>
<p>“I’ll raise her higher, of course,” answered
Ned, at the wheel, “but it’s a shame that we
can’t get a closer view of Paris in wartime.
That would be something to tell the folks about
when we get back home.”</p>
<p>Cr—cr—cra-sh! Boom!</p>
<p>The whole metal-plated frame of the <em>Flyer</em>
shook violently and careened wildly to one side
from the concussion of another lyddite shell.
Only quick action on Ned’s part prevented their
capsizing.</p>
<p>“We won’t ever get home to tell anybody
about anything if you don’t drive the ship higher
pretty soon,” yelled Alan.</p>
<p>Ned was the cooler of the two.</p>
<p>“All right,” said he, “but I do wish that
you could manage to signal some of these aeroplanes<span class="pagenum">[84]</span>
skimming around us that we are friends
instead of enemies, and that we want to alight
down there in the city.”</p>
<p>Alan looked doubtful, but finally agreed. As
Ned jammed the elevation lever down hard in
its socket and forced the <em>Ocean Flyer</em> slowly
forward on a decided up-slant, his chum made
his way out onto the runway which encircled
most of the <em>Flyer’s</em> hull, and there, clinging
firmly to the iron taffrail with one hand, wig-wagged
pacific signals with a white flag gripped
in the other.</p>
<p>Either the circling French aviators did not
understand his signals, or thought that the white
flag was merely intended to deceive them, for all
save one of them totally disregarded it. That
single dare-devil bird-man drove his monoplane—like
a flea going against an elephant—straight,
head-on, at the <em>Ocean Flyer</em> the moment
Alan made his appearance outside. His face
was set in frantic determination.</p>
<p>A startled cry of warning escaped the boy
clinging in the terrific wind there on the narrow
runway, who thought that the madman intended
to crash into the bigger airship and so sacrifice
his own life in the attempt to disable the
supposed enemy.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum">[85]</span></p>
<p>But that was not the daring Frenchman’s
intent. When the roar of his whirling tail propellers
deafened Alan’s hearing and it seemed
as if in another second the little monoplane
would be dashed against the <em>Flyer</em>, the Frenchman
tilted his planes sharply, swerved on a
perilous angle that almost overturned his light
craft, and, as he swept past in a rush of wind,
jerked a revolver from his belt with one hand
and fired full into Alan’s blanched face. A
second later he swooped down towards the
watching city below.</p>
<p>Alan felt a sudden stinging sensation on his
cheek and could not suppress a cry of pain.
Something warm began to trickle down his
cheek. A sudden giddiness made his head swim.
His eyes blurred and he felt that he might topple
over the narrow taffrail at any moment.</p>
<p>Blindly he groped behind him for the handle
of the door leading back into the ship—found
it, tried to call for help—then stumbled forward
and sank huddled to the airship floor unconscious.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum">[86]</span></p>
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