"Eight or nine gallons, sahib--and a little paraffin also." This might suffice for a couple of hours’ flight; then the aeroplane would be out of action. Anything further that Lawrence could do must then be done at his brother’s side. He told Fazl what he proposed to do. "I will run across the bridge and let Bob Sahib know," said the Gurkha. "No; it’s too dangerous. Just give a shout to attract his attention, and I will semaphore to him." A piercing cry rolled across the river. Behind his rampart Bob turned and waved his hand. Lawrence instantly signalled that he had a message to give. At the spot where he stood, while in full view of Bob, he was invisible to the enemy a hundred yards farther north. He began to work his arms in the movements of the flag-signal code. Fazl meanwhile returned to the aeroplane, tested the engine, put on board the whole remaining stock of petrol, together with lubricant and a couple of gallons of paraffin left from the quantity brought from the frontier house, and all the bombs. The conversation by semaphore took some little time. Bob wanted to know what had become of the enemy’s aeroplane. Lawrence replied merely that it was out of action, without giving particulars. Having explained what he proposed to do, and obtained Bob’s assent, he returned to the platform, and was soon flying up the river. At the turning-place he saw on the bank below the blackened ruins of the enemy’s machine. When he wheeled round and approached the bend, he became the target for the Kalmucks’ rifles, and as he had not risen very high the bullets whistled around unpleasantly near. Just before he reached the enemy’s breastwork Fazl dropped two bombs; there was a double explosion, and the man reported that they had fallen apparently at the right spot, though the dust and smoke prevented him from seeing the effect. Lawrence flew on. In spite of the necessity of economizing fuel, he did not again attempt his previous risky turn, but went on until he reached the place where wheeling could be performed without danger. The track was swarming with the enemy. They did not now fire at him; he guessed that these men could hardly distinguish his machine from their own. On returning towards the bend he saw that the bombs had wrought great havoc there. One at least of the guns was dismounted: the track was strewn with prostrate forms; and near the rampart only a few men could be seen scurrying up the hillside to find shelter among the rocks. Fazl dropped another bomb, aiming as nearly as possible at the guns that were still in position. The further breastwork was deserted: as Lawrence crossed it the drawbridge was blown up, and a cheer rose from the little garrison now lining the walls of the compound.