going home. We then climbed a little, turned
sharply, and began to repeat our outward trip to north of the road.

Evidently Archie had allowed his leg to be pulled by the feint, and for
two minutes he only molested the machine with a few wild shots. But soon
he recovered his old form, so that when we had reached Le Sars the bus
was again wreathed by black puffs. We vertical-turned across the road
and headed for the trenches once more, with the last few plates waiting
for exposure.

Archie now seemed to treat the deliberation of the solitary machine's
movements as a challenge to his ability, and he determined to make us
pay for our seeming contempt. An ugly barrage of A.-A. shell-bursts
separated us from friendly air, the discs of black smoke expanding as
they hung in little clusters. Into this barrier of hate we went
unwillingly, like children sent to church as a duty.

Scores of staccato war-whoops reminded us that the Boche gunners wanted
our scalp. I don't know how V. felt about it, but I well know that I was
in a state of acute fear. Half-way to Pozieres I abandoned checking the
ground by the map, and judged the final photographs by counting the
seconds between each--"one, two, three, four (_wouff!_ _wouff!_
_wouff!_ _wouff!_)"; pull the string, press forward the loading-handle,
bring it back; "one, two, three, four (_wouff!_ _wouff!_ _wouff!_
_wouff!_)," et-cetera. Just as the final plate-number showed on the
indicator a mighty report from underneath startled us, and the machine
was pressed upward, left wing down.

This was terrifying enough but not harmful, for not one of the fragments
from the near burst touched us, strange to say. The pilot righted the
bus, and I made the last exposure, without, I am afraid, caring what
patch of earth was shuttered on to the plate.

Nose down and engine full out, we hared over the trenches. Archie's hate
followed for some distance, but to no purpose; and at last we were at
liberty to fly home, at peace with the wind and the world. We landed
less than three-quarters of an hour after we had left the aerodrome in a
hurry.

"Good boys," said the Squadron Commander; "now see that lightning is
used in developing your prints."

The camera was rushed to the photographic lorry, the plates were
unloaded in the dark hut, the negatives were developed. Half an hour
later I received the first proofs, and, with them, some degree of
disappointment. Those covering the first outward and r