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Chapter 8

           Hesleptuntilthesoundofairplanemotorswokehim.

           Lyingonhisback,hesawthem,afascistpatrolofthreeFiats,tiny,bright,fast-movingacrossthemountainsky,headedinthedirectionfromwhichAnselmoandhehadcomeyesterday.Thethreepassedandthencameninemore,flyingmuchhigherintheminute,pointedformationsofthrees,threesandthrees.

           Pabloandthegypsywerestandingatthecavemouth,intheshadow,watchingtheskyandasRobertJordanlaystill,theskynowfullofthehighhammeringroarofmotors,therewasanewdroningroarandthreemoreplanescameoveratlessthanathousandfeetabovetheclearing.ThesethreewereHeinkelone-elevens,twin-motorbombers.

           RobertJordan,hisheadintheshadowoftherocks,knewtheywouldnotseehim,andthatitdidnotmatteriftheydid.Heknewtheycouldpossiblyseethehorsesinthecorraliftheywerelookingforanythinginthesemountains.Iftheywerenotlookingforanythingtheymightstillseethembutwouldnaturallytakethemforsomeoftheirowncavalrymounts.ThencameanewandlouderdroningroarandthreemoreHeinkelone-elevensshowedcomingsteeply,stiffly,loweryet,crossinginrigidformation,theirpoundingroarapproachingincrescendotoanabsoluteofnoiseandthenrecedingastheypassedtheclearing.

           RobertJordanunrolledthebundleofclothingthatmadehispillowandpulledonhisshirt.ItwasoverhisheadandhewaspullingitdownwhenheheardthenextplanescomingandhepulledhistrousersonundertherobeandlaystillasthreemoreoftheHeinkelbimotorbomberscameover.

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