All the Germans in its full path went down like ripe corn before the scythe. Straight it flew on without being swerved in the slightest degree by the human obstacles in its way. Severed heads flew up in the air and arms and legs were chopped off by the flying car. Ghastly fragments of flesh and bone, a muddy mixture of blood and viscera, human remains that had nothing human about them, spattered the wheels and the body and all the occupants of the car. "I felt like the very incarnation of the spirit of destruction and revenge," says Mlle. Duclos describing this wild scene. "I was not human." The car flew on its path of death until it reached the captured French armored car. Mlle. Duclos missed this by an incalculable fraction of an inch and then slowly brought her racing car to a stop. The French soldiers looked back. Only a few German soldiers, who were out of the path of the auto, had escaped death or maiming. Perhaps there were six in all, and they were aghast at the demon of death that had swept through them. The French soldiers showered the Germans with hand grenades and would probably have overcome the rest of the party and recaptured their auto, when a party of Uhlans was seen riding up the road from the direction of the German lines. It appeared that scouting aviators of both sides had witnessed the fight over the armored car and had carried word back to their respective forces. Once more the gallant French motor fighters were in danger of being wiped out. Acting in co-operation with the officer, Mlle. Duclos ran her car back again, putting it between the survivors of the first German party and the new reinforcements. This move put the former at a great disadvantage, as they were standing about in a flat, open place, but, of course, it exposed the Frenchmen to the newly arriving German forces. The Frenchmen with rifles and pistols disposed of the remnant of the first German party, and then started to hitch their disabled car to Madame Durand's machine. A shower of bullets from the German side warned them that their gallant efforts would probably be in vain. "Whir-r-r! whir-r-r!" came the frightful scream of war cars from the direction of the French lines. Two powerful French armored cars sped down the road, with machine guns spouting death, and engaged the German reinforcements. At the conclusion of this new battle the five French motor fighters were able to secure their disabled car, and Mlle. Duclos at the wheel of her own car led the glorious wreck back in triumph. Thus it happened that she received the military cross of the Legion of Honor and is the heroine of the hour.--(_New York American._) THE RUSSIAN "JOAN OF ARC'S" OWN STORY _Told by Mme. Alexandra Kokotseva, the "Russian Joan of Arc," Colonel Commanding the Sixth Ural Cossack Regiment--Translated from a Letter Forwarded from Petrograd to Friends in New York_ I--"BELIEVE NONE OF THOSE GERMAN LIES"