The biplane's tank -- always in danger in fights
like this -- had been badly punctured by the same hail of Lewis bullets
that had also hit the German, just as his plane got out of control.
Instantly the flames burst forth as the big airship plunged downward,
only a little behind the falling body of its pilot.
With great effort -- for the excitement had weakened the lad -- did
Erwin bring his scouting plane to an easier level and gait. Then he
looked down.
Already both burning biplane and falling pilot had vanished. Far
below, the earth was only faintly visible through the mantling haze
that now permeated the lower atmosphere. All directions looked alike.
The air was comparatively still, and only the far distant rumble of
artillery, seldom absent along that front, was audible. It sounded not
unlike intermittent thunder. What to do next? Which way should he go?
For the first time since starting he felt for his compass. It was
gone.
"What'll I do now?" he asked himself.
"Where is the sun? I suppose all the boys that started when I did must
have gone back long ago. The time must be at least mid-afternoon."
The mists below evidently were rising and thickening. The boy hated to
acknowledge to himself that he must be lost, but it looked that way.
Cautiously he descended to lower levels but the landscape thus opaquely
revealed showed but little that was definite.
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