If the people in _Severn_ and _Mersey_ had had a narrow squeak for it, not once but a dozen times, from _Koenigsberg’s_ salvoes, the spotting party in the aeroplane must have had just as exciting a time. And, as we have seen from the foregoing account, with them _Koenigsberg_ was more fortunate. On July 11th everything was against Lieutenant Cull, the first pilot to go up, and Flight-Sub-Lieutenant Arnold, who was acting as observer. To begin with it was a cloudy day, and the machine had to be kept dangerously low if the observer was to do his work. The aeroplane got over the target at about 12:20, while _Mersey_ was firing hard. But this fire of the _Mersey_ had nothing to do with the organized effort to destroy the enemy. It was merely a blind--an effort to get the enemy’s observer on land to deflect the fire on that ship on to _Mersey_, while _Severn_ got ready for the real work. The aeroplane, therefore, paid no attention to _Mersey’s_ fire and telegraphed no observations. Ten minutes later _Severn_ opened fire and _Mersey_ ceased. _Mersey’s_ diversion did for a time bring _Koenigsberg’s_ guns in her direction. But no sooner did _Severn_ open fire than she got the full benefit of _Koenigsberg’s_ salvoes of four, which followed each other at intervals of about a minute. Five minutes after _Severn_ opened at 12:30, _Koenigsberg’s_ salvoes began to straddle her. Nine minutes after _Severn_ opened fire the aeroplane signalled first hit. And less than ten minutes after that Lieutenant Arnold telegraphed ‘We are hit; send boat.’ In point of fact, it is probable that the aeroplane’s engine had been slightly injured earlier. For, dangerously low as the machine had to fly at the beginning, it was found impossible to keep even at that height, and as it got lower and slower, it obviously became an easier mark for the _Koenigsberg’s_ 12-pounders. At 12:46 a terrific bump was felt in the machine, and shortly afterwards the engine broke up with a rattle and a crash, and there was nothing for it but to start sliding down. Imagine the situation! The machine, between 3,000 and 4,000 feet in the air, nearly three miles from the monitors; the only possible hope of safety to make this long glide and then to land--if the bull may be permitted--in a narrow strip of river bordered by impenetrable bush--the bush dotted with lofty trees! If the machine missed the river and hit the trees, it was certain death wherever it landed. If it missed the trees and hit the river, there was palpably no safety unless it was within a very short distance of the monitors. For nowhere else did the pilot and observer stand the faintest chance of rescue. A situation more absolutely desperate could hardly be imagined.