r was now frightening his friends.

[Illustration: "GOING WEST"]

The photograph taken, Guynemer flew back to camp. The best for him,
under the circumstances, would have been to wait. Was he not hourly to
hear that he might go to the Buc works for his machine? And what was the
use of flying on an unsatisfactory airplane? But Guynemer was not in
Flanders to wait. He wanted his quarry, and he wanted to set an example
to and galvanize his men, and even the infantry. So, Deullin being
absent, Guynemer borrowed his machine, and at last discovered a chain of
German flyers, whom he attacked regardless of their number. But four
bullets hit his machine and one damaged the air-pump, an accident which
not only compelled him to land but to return by motor to the aerodrome.
Once more, instead of listening to the whisper of wisdom, he started, on
Lieutenant Lagache's machine; and this time the annoyance was the
gasoline spurting over the loose top of the carburetor. The oil caught
fire, and Guynemer had to give in, having failed three times, and having
been in the air five hours and a half on unsatisfactory airplanes. No
wonder if, with the weather, the machines, and circumstances generally
against him, he felt tired and nervous. He had never done so much with
such poor results. But his will, his will cannot accept what is forced
upon him, and we may be sure that he will not acknowledge himself
beaten.

III. THE LAST FLIGHT

On Tuesday, September 11, the weather was once more uncertain. But
morning fogs by the seaside do not last, and the sun soon began to
shine. Guynemer had had a restless night after his failures, and had
brooded, as irritable people do, over the very things that made him
fretful. Chasing without his new airplane--the enchanting machine which
he had borne in his mind so many months, as a women bears her child, and
which at last he had felt soaring under him--was no pleasure. He missed
it so much that the feeling became an obsession, until he made up his
mind to leave for Buc before the day was over. Indeed, he would have
done so sooner had he not been haunted by the idea that he must first
bring down his Boche. But since the Boche did not seem to be willing....
Now he is resolved, and more calm; he will go to Paris this very
evening. He has only to while away the time till the train is due. The
prospect in itself is quieting, and besides Major du Peuty, one of the
chiefs of Aviation at Headquarters, and Major