er under the impression
you'd never flown one either."

"I haven't--yet," laughed the Major, and hasted away for his coat and
helmet.

"Can you beat that?" exclaimed the Lieutenant.

The Captain sighed and went to aid the Major into his leathern
armour. Lightly and joyously the youthful Major climbed into the
machine and sat awhile to examine and remark upon its unfamiliar
features, while a sturdy mechanic stood at the propeller ready to
start the engine.

"By the way," said he, turning to address me. "You're staying to
luncheon, of course?"

"I'm afraid we can't," answered our Intelligence Officer.

"Oh, but you must--I've ordered soup! Right-oh!" he called to his
mechanician; the engine hummed, thundered, and roaring, cast back
upon us a very gale of wind; the witch-lamb moved, slid forward over
the grass, and gathering speed, lifted six inches, a yard, ten
yards--and was in flight.

"Can you beat that?" exclaimed the Captain enthusiastically, "lifted
her clean away!"

"I rather fancy he's about as good as they're made!" observed the
Lieutenant. Meanwhile, the witch-lamb soared up and up straight as an
arrow; up she climbed, growing rapidly less until she was a gnat
against a background of fleecy cloud and the roar of the engine had
diminished to a whine; up and up until she was a speck--until the
clouds had swallowed her altogether.

"Pity it isn't clear!" said the Captain. "I rather fancy you'd have
seen some real flying. By the way, they're going to practise at the
targets--might interest you. Care to see?"

The targets were about a yard square and, as I watched, an aeroplane
rose, wheeling high above them. All at once the hum of the engine was
lost in the sharp, fierce rattle of a machine gun; and ever as the
biplane banked and wheeled the machine gun crackled. From every angle
and from every point of the compass these bullets were aimed, and
examining the targets afterwards I was amazed to see how many hits
had been registered.

After this they brought me to the workshops where many mechanics were
busied; they showed me, among other grim relics, C.'s broken machine
gun and perforated cartridge tray. They told me many stories of
daring deeds performed by other members of the squadron, but when I
asked them to describe their own experiences, I found them diffident
and monosyllabic.

"Hallo!" exclaimed C., as we stepped out into the air, "here comes
the Major. He's in that cloud--know the sound of