Then he suddenly decided that the motor he heard must be that of an aeroplane in the midst of the cloud just above him. An enemy aeroplane!
He had been observed from a distance, and a German taube had been sent to attack him, the enemy using the screen of this cloud to make the attack sure. As Sanderson started downward he saw the black shape of the taube swoop out of the cloud.
His antagonist had the advantage at the start, and well Sanderson knew it, for he was attacking the American's machine from above. The German's mitrailleuse was already beginning to spit a hail of bullets about the falling aeroplane, a fire which the American could not return until he could change his flight and "point" his machine.
Every moment Sanderson delayed in changing his course added to his peril, yet he hesitated to mount upward again. There was a chance—a narrow one but a conclusive strategy if successful—that he was tempted to put to the test. It was a desperate expedient and might end fatally to himself as well as to the German; yet the American contemplated putting it into execution.
The German continued to shoot as he fell upon Sanderson's machine, and already there were several fresh bullet holes through the wings of the latter's aeroplane. As always, the fear of a bullet in his gasoline tank fretted the American's mind. And, too, he had thus far not fired a shot in self-defense.
It was the desperate resort, therefore, that he embraced. He started his motor, righted his aeroplane, and as soon as he was sure of his speed, lifted the machine's nose for a higher altitude.
Seeing this change on the part of the Nieuport, the pilot of the taube instantly followed suit. At least, he shot into a level and his own motor began to buzz again.
But Sanderson had expected this. He knew the German would not be likely to give him a chance to pass and rake him broadside with his mitrailleuse. He, however, trusted in the speed of the Nieuport. As though shot out of one of the great guns hammering awe at each other below, his appareil de chasse darted up, turned, and was aimed directly for the under side of the taube—and at the most vulnerable part, the tail.
The speed of the American's aeroplane was what counted. His rain of bullets crippled the German machine. It "went off on the wing," dropped some hundreds of yards, and then righted before Sanderson could turn again and shoot from above upon it.
Sanderson now had the advantage the German had previously held. He was the pursuer and the German was in flight.