While viewing the first back-wash of the Austrian forces from the high tide of Russian invasion, the aviators had hurtled through a maelstrom of noise. The yells and shoutings of wagon drivers, the rattling of thousands of wheels over stony roads, the clatter of horses' feet made an indescribable tumult, and to this were added the sounds of infantry fighting. Roque had reliable advices during one of the stops in the flight that the fortress defenders were still holding their own, and no Russian charge had as yet crossed the barbed wire mazes that circled the city. Never since the memorable race at Friedrichshaven had the No. 3 type of biplane attained such velocity as in the finish of this forced run to the Galician stronghold, the final dash over the black-plowed farms through a wet fog and under fire of a Russian battery posted in the hills. "I feel like I had been hauled through the lower regions by a nightmare," complained Billy, as he later sat with Roque, Schneider and his chum in the Steiber Coffee house. "I will say," confessed Schneider, "that I never hit the wind so hard before in my flying experience. My eyes must look like two burned holes in a blanket." "I might say, Schneider," remarked Roque, "that if it had not been for that timely fog you would have hit the ground harder than you ever did before. Those gunners on the hill could not have missed us if given fair sight." "It has just occurred to me that they came pretty close, anyhow." "They sure did, Buddy," laughed Billy, following this assertion by his chum. "I almost collided with a shell that sounded like a dozen factory whistles. By the way, Mr. Roque," he continued, "it looks like you were tied up here for some time to come. I don't see any way out of it." "Do not lose any sleep over that problem, young man; if we got in we can get out. You ought to know by this time that there is always a hole in the air that cannot be blocked." "You bet he's right," exclaimed Schneider, slapping his knee for emphasis. "Hustle for bed, all of you, and stay there until you are called." With this the chief faced the fire and lighted one of his big, black cigars. He had some thinking to do. The boys were awakened the next morning by gunfire. "Oh, lawsy," sleepily murmured Billy, "is there another battle started already?" Schneider at the first report had gone on his bare feet to the nearest window. "Nix, fellows," he cried, after short observation, "they're not shooting at men this time, it's wild geese they're popping at." The besieged garrison was adding to its store of eatables by bringing down wildfowl, which flew in abundance over the town. "Let me in on that." Henri owned the idea that he was something of a full hand as a Nimrod. A voice in the doorway: "You will be 'let in' on bigger game than that." Roque smiled at the youthful enthusiast, and added: "There is a man's size job for a half-sized man waiting until you shake the sleep out of your system."