At the far side of this ran a little brook, and all about them
were trees. Except for the calls of birds, and the ceaseless hum of
insects, there was no sound to break the stillness. It was a scene of
peaceful beauty that could not be surpassed anywhere in the world. And yet,
only a few miles away, at the most, were men who were planning deliberately
to bring death and destruction upon helpless enemies--to rain down death
from the skies.
By very contrast to the idyllic peace of all about them, the terrors of war
seemed more dreadful. That men who went to war should be killed and
wounded, bad though it was, still seemed legitimate. But this driving home
of an attack upon a city all unprepared, upon the many non-combatants who
would be bound to suffer, was another and more dreadful thing. Harry could
understand that it was war, that it was permissible to do what these
Germans planned. And yet--
His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden change in the quality of the
noisy silence that the insects made. Just before he noticed it, half a
dozen bees had been humming near him. Now he heard something that sounded
like the humming of a far vaster bee. Suddenly it stopped, and, as it did,
he looked up, his eyes as well as Dick's being drawn upward at the same
moment. And they saw, high above them, an aeroplane with dun colored wings.
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