A knowledge of the Moroccan coast obtained during a cruise in a German gunboat at the time of the Agadir crisis stood von Sinzig in good stead. He was able to recognise certain landmarks in spite of viewing them from a different aspect, and accordingly he turned the monoplane in a north-easterly direction, keeping parallel to the African coast, The new direction would take him a little to the eastward of Cadiz; rather nearer that port than Gibraltar. He had not the slightest inclination to fly over the latter fortress. Rather vaguely he wondered whether he would sight the "Golden Hind" making thither, since, sooner or later, unless a mishap occurred, the rival aviators must cut each other’s routes. He was now painfully aware of the change of wind. The direction of the smoke from several steamers, and the sight of a full-rigged ship running in a south-westerly direction told him that. Additionally, as he saw by the aid of his binoculars, that sailing ship was running under topsails only. That meant something more than a stiff breeze--and against this he had to contend. Suddenly he detected an ominous cough of the motor. He knew that the petrol supply was running low, but he had no idea that the gauge registered so little. The tank was practically empty. "Himmel!" gasped the dumfounded Hun. "Will she last out?" He mentally measured the distance between him and the Spanish coast. A good ten miles. With a following wind he could glide that distance from that altitude, but not with this infernal head wind! The engine was running jerkily. Clearly its spasmodic coughing betokened the fact that it would soon cease duty from sheer inanition. Its life-blood was being cut off at the heart of the machine--its petrol tank. That head wind. How von Sinzig cursed it! Had it been in his favour, even if he failed to volplane as far as the shore, the Albatross, being provided with floats, could have drifted on the surface. In the midst of his incoherent utterances von Sinzig realised that the motor had at last given out. He trimmed the ailerons and prepared for a long glide, but, as he had feared, the head wind made it a matter of impossibility for the Albatross to cover more than two miles before she alighted. It did not take long to complete the volplane, although the pilot nursed his machine to the best of his ability in the hope of prolonging the oblique descent. The Albatross "landed" badly, her floats striking the water with a resounding smack. The count, having done his best, could do no more. He sat smoking a cigarette and keeping a look out for a vessel that would come to his assistance. There were several away to the south’ard, for he had alighted well to the north’ard of the regular steamer track between Gibraltar and Cape St. Vincent. They were too far off to notice the little Albatross.