"And I don't blame them a bit for being scared," he went on to say. "Two or three aëroplanes at a time are bad enough, but thirty in a bunch--holy smoke! it would frighten any American community half out of their wits, I'm thinking."
"There goes the first shot at us!" announced Pudge, and it was strange how he, unconsciously perhaps, seemed to include the _Sea Eagle_ in the list of invading aircraft, though they did not mean to lift a hand against the defenders of Zeebrugge.
"It fell far short," observed Billy. "They're so worked up they hardly know what they are doing. This time I reckon the seaplanes mean to keep above the reach of the shrapnel."
"In which they show their good sense," Pudge replied. "It only takes a little hit to bring an aëroplane down to the ground; and if a pilot and his helper ever dropped from this distance it means good-by."
Except when one of the shrapnel shells broke below them, the air was clear enough for the boys to see everything that went on. Billy soon began to complain, as usual.
"Say, it's ten times worse than a three-ringed circus," he declared. "You can't, with so many pilots dropping bombs while they circle around, possibly watch more than a small part of what's happening down there."
"Keep an eye on that mole along the edge of the water," advised Frank. "That is where the submarines stay when they're in port, and it's being pounded pretty lively, you notice."
"But why waste so much ammunition on an empty dock?" asked Billy.
"It's of importance that they destroy it," Frank explained. "I've got an idea they expect there may be several submerged boats alongside the mole. Perhaps, when the Germans had word from Ostend that the terrible air fleet was headed this way they guessed that the main object of the raid was to destroy their undersea boats; so they would be apt to sink them of their own accord, and in the natural way."
They hovered over the spot, making short circles so they could witness all that occurred. M. Le Grande had produced binoculars from some part of his person, and was keeping them glued to his eyes constantly.
No doubt, in time to come, the boy aviators would often picture that wonderful scene in their minds when lying in their peaceful beds at home. With the buzzing of the flying seaplanes that darted to and fro, the sharp bursting of the shrapnel in furious volleys, and the heavier sound of the guns themselves far beneath, it certainly was an event never to be forgotten by those fortunate enough to be able to experience it at first hand.