ew yards beneath our undercarriage. I begin to wonder
whether all our troubles have been swept away by a direct hit; but an
examination of the machine shows no damage beyond a couple of rents in
the fabric of the fuselage. That finishes my observation work for the
moment. Not with a court-martial as the only alternative could I carry
on the job until we have left Archie's inferno of frightfulness. The
flight-commander is of the same mind, and we nose into the clouds,
pursued to the last by the insistent smoke-puffs.

When the bus is once again flying between sky and cloud, we begin to
feel more at home. No other craft come within range of vision, so that
without interruption we reach Aucoin, the fourth railway junction to be
spied upon. The rolling stock there is scarcely enough for two
train-loads, and no active trains can be spotted. We hover above the
town for a minute, and then leave for Boislens.

The machine now points westward and homeward, and thus has the full
benefit of the wind, which accelerates our ground speed to about a
hundred and fifty miles an hour. The gods take it into their heads to be
kind, for we are not obliged to descend through the clouds over
Boislens, as the region can be seen plainly through a gap large enough
to let me count the R.S. and note that a train, with steam up, stands
in the station.

As Boislens is the last town mentioned by the H.Q. people who mapped out
the reconnaissance, the job is all but completed. Yet twelve miles still
separate us from the nearest bend of the trench line, and a twelve-mile
area contains plenty of room for a fight. Since the open atmosphere
shows no warning of an attack, I look closely toward the sun--for a fast
scout will often try to surprise a two-seater by approaching between its
quarry and the sun.

At first I am conscious of nothing but a strong glare; but when my
goggled eyes become accustomed to the brightness, I see, or imagine I
see, an indistinct oblong object surrounded by haze. I turn away for a
second to avoid the oppressive light. On seeking the sun again I find
the faint oblong more pronounced. For one instant it deviates from the
straight line between our bus and the sun, and I then recognise it as an
aeroplane. I also discover that a second machine is hovering two
thousand feet above the first.

The chief hobby of the flight-commander is to seek a scrap. Immediately
I make known to him the presence of hostile craft he tests his gun i