As a consequence, the British Flying Corps has succeeded in establishing an individual ascendancy which is as serviceable to us as it is damaging to the enemy. How far it is due to this cause it is not possible at present to ascertain definitely, but the fact remains that the enemy have recently become much less enterprising in their flights. Something in the direction of the mastery of the air has already been gained. In pursuance of the principle that the main object of military aviators is the collection of information, bomb dropping has not been indulged in to any great extent. On one occasion a petrol bomb was successfully exploded in a German bivouac at night, while, from a diary found on a dead German cavalry soldier, it has been discovered that a high explosive bomb thrown at a cavalry column from one of our aeroplanes struck an ammunition wagon. The resulting explosion killed fifteen of the enemy. Ample evidence has been supplied by the correspondents to the newspapers of the inhuman treatment meted out to civilians by the Germans. Reference has already been made in the present book to this subject. There is another unworthy characteristic of the Germans by which they exact the utmost penalty from non-combatants. Mr. William Maxwell has illustrated this form of vandalism in the following interesting article contributed to the columns of the _Daily Telegraph_. Apparently the same tale might be told of any village or town in France or Belgium through which the Germans advanced or retreated:— This is a story of German rage and vengeance, not a story of mere looting. Every army loots—even the British Army will condescend to steal chickens and an occasional sheep. In South Africa Lord Roberts had to threaten severe penalties for raids on private property, and I remember an Australian colonel warning his men in this fashion: “If I catch any one of you stealing and killing a sheep—except in self-defence————” The rest of the threat was never spoken. At three o’clock on Saturday afternoon, September 5, several thousand of the enemy’s cavalry—Uhlans, Dragoons, and Chasseurs—with horse artillery and machine guns, rode into the village of Beton-Bazoches, south of the River Marne. At first they behaved well enough toward the inhabitants, most of them paying cash for what they took for themselves, and giving receipts for the stores they requisitioned for the army. The General and senior members of the Staff took possession of the inn, while the junior members occupied the house of a grocer, until a rifle and some ammunition were found on the premises, whereupon they removed to other quarters. The officer who made this discovery acted like a sensible and humane man. He advised the villagers to give up their arms, and said to them: “Remember, I am not le bon Dieu, and cannot watch over you always. Those who come after us are hard men.”