We climb in turn and lose sight of her for a moment or so. It is a complicated game of blind-man’s buff. We got up with her at last and both let off simultaneously. There is a language spoken in that act, a language that has neither stops, commas, letters, characters, notes, nor images. It is the language of unbounded hate. Hate to the death. We got above her and “down-wind” this time. Luck is on our side. Another tray of cartridges for the gun quickly! That’s got her. She drops sharply. Her pilot must have been hit and lost control of his “joy-stick.” We are right on top of her now and let the whole tray of munitions off into her back. Suddenly down goes her nose. She rushes earthwards with a very fair speed to waft her pilot to paradise. Faster and faster she travels. Fainter, fainter does our view of her become! Down below the hundreds are waiting anxiously, already glorying in the prize. She’s down at last! Most thankfully we turn home. CHAPTER XVII A GREAT RAID _Somewhere in the North of France, Monday._ As I walked across the aerodrome, the feeble rays of the young moon were dying in the west. It was 4.30 in the morning, with an icy-cold nor’wester shrieking through the tree-tops, and I was very thankful that I had taken the precaution of clothing myself warmly in a wool-lined leather coat and trousers, a pair of long gum boots--invaluable for keeping out wet and cold alike--a woolen balaclava helmet under my leather aviation cap, and two pairs of gloves to keep my hands from freezing. We had received our instructions the previous night. Ten bomb-dropping aeroplanes were to be convoyed by two battle-planes. It may be mentioned that a bomb-dropping machine is usually of the fast, scouting variety, with a speed of well over ninety miles per hour, and is a single seater--that is to say, it carries no observer. The reason for this is not very far to seek. With two men and a machine-gun aboard, very little power remains for a supply of bombs; without an observer and a machine-gun, the bomb supply may be doubled. And the more bombs aboard the more damage can be done to the enemy. The battle-plane is either a “pusher” (with the propeller at the rear) aeroplane, mounting a large gun at the prow, or a Caudron with two engines. Its principal duty is to protect the bomb-dropping machine from attack by enemy aircraft. The two battle-planes were the first to get away from the ground and the others soon followed. When they had all reached an altitude of 5000 feet, they took up their pre-arranged formation with one of the battle-planes on either wing; then turned their noses eastward towards the sun, and set off in the direction of the enemy lines.