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When the Sleeper Wakes-Part49_H. G. WELLS (1866-1946)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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The fenestrations in the further float flashed open as

the aeronaut tried to right her. Beyond, he saw a



second aeroplane leaping steeply to escape the whirl

of its heeling fellow. The broad area of swaying



wings seemed to jerk upward. He felt his aeropile

had dropped clear, that the monstrousfabric, clean



overturned, hung like a sloping wall above him.

He did not clearly understand that he had struck



the side float of the aeroplane and slipped off, but he

perceived that he was flying free on the down glide



and rapidly nearing earth. What had he done? His

heart throbbed like a noisy engine in his throat and



for a perilousinstant he could not move his levers

because of the paralysis of his hands. He wrenched



the levers to throw his engine back, fought for two

seconds against the weight of it, felt himself righting



driving horizontally, set the engine beating again.

He looked upward and saw two aeroplanes glide



shouting far overhead, looked back, and saw the main

body of the fleet opening out and rushing upward and . .



outward; saw the one he had struck fall edgewise on

and strike like a gigantic knife-blade along the wind-



wheels below it.

He put down his stern and looked again. He drove



up heedless of his direction as he watched. He saw

the wind-vanes give, saw the huge fabric strike the



earth, saw its downward vans crumple with the weight

of its descent, and then the whole mass turned over



and smashed, upside down, upon the sloping wheels.

Throb, throb, throb, pause. Suddenly from the heaving



wreckage a thin tongue of white fire licked up

towards the zenith. And then he was aware of a



huge mass flying through the air towards him, and

turned upwards just in time to escape the charge--if



it was a charge--of a second aeroplane. It whirled

by below, sucked him down a fathom, and nearly



turned him over in the gust of its close passage.

He became aware of three others rushing towards



him, aware of the urgent necessity of beating above

them. Aeroplanes were all about him, circling wildly



to avoid him, as it seemed. They drove past him,

above, below, eastward and westward. Far away to



the westward was the sound of a collision, and two

falling flares. Far away to the southward a second



squadron was coming. Steadily he beat upward.

Presently all the aeroplanes were below him, but for a



moment he doubted the height he had of them, and did

not swoop again. And then he came down upon a



second victim and all its load of soldiers saw him coming.

The big machine heeled and swayed as the fear maddened



men scrambled to the stern for their

weapons. A score of bullets sung through the air, and



there flashed a star in the thick glass wind-screen

that protected him. The aeroplane slowed and



dropped to foil his stroke, and dropped too low. Just

in time he saw the wind-wheels of Bromley hill rushing



up towards him, and spun about and up as the

aeroplane he had chased crashed among them. All its



voices wove into a felt of yelling. The great fabric

seemed to be standing on end for a second among the



heeling and splintering vans, and then it flew to pieces.

Huge splinters came flying through the air, its engines



burst like shells. A hot rush of flame shot overhead

into the darkling sky.



"__Two!__" he cried, with a bomb from overhead bursting

as it fell, and forthwith he was beating up again.



A glorious exhilaration possessed him now, a giant

activity. His troubles about humanity, about his



inadaquacy, were gone for ever. He was a man in battle

rejoicing in his power. Aeroplanes seemed radiating



from him in every direction, intent only upon avoiding

him, the yelling of their packed passengers came in



short gusts as they swept by. He chose his third

quarry, struck hastily and did but turn it on edge. It



escaped him, to smash against the tall cliff of London

wall. FIying from that impact he skimmed the darkling






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