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England, George Allan, 1877-1936

"The Flying Legion"

The gloom caused by the death and burial at
sea of Travers, the New Zealander, soon passed. This was a company
of fighting men, inured to death in every form. And death they had
reckoned as part of the payment to be made for their adventuring.
This, too, helped knit the fine mass-spirit already binding them
together into a coherent, battling group.
A little after two in the afternoon, _Nissr_ passed within far sight
of the Azores, visible in cloud-rifts as little black spots sown
on the waters like sparse seeds on a burnished plate of metal. This
habitation of man soon slipped away to westward, and once more nothing
remained but the clear, cold severity of space, with now and then a
racing drift of rain below, and tumbling, stormy weather all along the
sea horizons.
The Master and Bohannan spent some time together after the Azores had
been dropped astern and off the starboard quarter. "Captain Alden"
remained in her cabin. She reported by phone, however, that the wound
was really only superficial, through the fleshy upper part of the
left arm. If this should heal by first intention, as it ought, no
complications were to be expected.
Day drew on toward the shank of the afternoon.


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