He was completely lost. There was no doubt of it. There was nothing to do but go on, even though his fuel supply was getting dangerously low.
Another town, some distance away, lay wrapt in a haze. Approaching, he was overjoyed to recognize in the center of it a large, star-shaped building, probably a hospital. From this point he knew he could find his way. He remembered that near by there was a large country house surrounded by a formal garden. He looked in the direction where he expected to see it, but it was not there. When he did locate the house it seemed completely turned around, and he had to readjust himself to this changed condition before he could shape his course for home. As he did so, and the compass ceased its slow turning, he discovered that it was off many points and had been one of the causes of his bewilderment. He was now able to find his way to his own airdrome without further trouble.
Now, again, the Skipper had the same peculiar, lost sensation. Even though he had Jack, an expert navigator, with him, the situation in which he found himself brought back the old baffled, hopeless feeling. It had been a long time since they had left the ship behind—since they had seen anything but this rolling plain of clouds—and now they were facing a situation so unusual that he felt numb trying to understand it.
Land seemed to be ahead where their charts told them no land could be. Several planes were flying in their direction. One, large and unwieldy, approached quite close, its occupants leaning over the side, studying them.
Kiwi thought he knew every type of plane that was being flown in his day and age, but he had never seen one like this before. Jack pointed it out to the Skipper and they both examined it closely.
Suddenly the Skipper blurted out, “Why it’s a Gotha!”
As the plane came nearer to them it dipped lower and made its ponderous way to one side; then it swung in a wide circle and drew close behind them.
As they flew on, other planes passed above and beneath them, and the Skipper’s face grew more and more bewildered as he identified, one after another, planes long obsolete in the flying world. A monoplane, such as Bleriot had made history with in crossing the English Channel some twenty years ago, appeared. Early types used in the war swooped down upon them.