had varied slightly in direction and had increased
somewhat in velocity. They immediately decided not to lose time by
climbing above the approaching storm, but to pass beneath it. This they
did, and those aviators never went through a nastier experience than
this homeward journey. Blinded and stung as they were by the downpour of
rain, while their aeroplane was hurled about by the wind to such an
extent that it appeared to be completely out of control, the voyage
seemed interminable. The clouds above belched flashes of lightning in
apparent unison with the Hun anti-aircraft batteries below. Held in the
beams of the enemy's searchlights and plainly visible against the dark
clouds above, Jock's plane was an easy target for the Hun gunners.

But who can account for the fortunes of war? Jock brought his plane,
riddled with shrapnel, into the moonlight beyond, showing up
Kaiserlautern directly below, with its searchlights sweeping the sky
while its anti-aircraft batteries filled the air with bursting shells;
but in spite of this "hate" it was a pleasant sight to the aviators, for
it showed them that their course was correct and that there was still
time to gain the lines unless the wind increased. Again they passed
below another dense bank of clouds, to experience again being blinded
with the rain and shaken by the violence of the wind by which their
plane was tossed about, all the while subjected to an attack by
lightning from above and by anti-aircraft guns from below. It is a
little trying to the nerves to fly for an hour without being able to see
the earth beneath, and surrounded by the incessant flashings of
lightning and the "whonkings" of bursting shells, but when homeward
bound these little incidents are of minor import.

[Illustration: AFTER THE LANDING]

For the second time Jock brought the plane, tossing about like a cork on
a mountainous sea, out into comparative light. As landmarks were
recognized, the course was checked and changed, when a third storm was
encountered. This last storm was furious, and it was impossible to hold
the plane on a compass course; fortunately, however, the storm lasted
but a short time, and when Jock brought his plane out into the breaking
dawn, the Marne-Rhine Canal was visible to the south. A few moments
later the lines were crossed and a direct course was steered to the
nearest aerodrome. Just then the engines spluttered, then stopped, the
petrol was exhausted, and Jock was forced