War is a cruel and pitiless thing, in which compassion and the kindlier impulses of the human heart have no place. He himself could give no quarter, nor could he expect any.
And now there was something else besides the relentless foe which began to cause him anxiety—even alarm. The weather conditions had been becoming steadily worse, and the force of the wind, still blowing steadily into “Germany,” made the movements of the Nieuport like that of a boat wallowing in the trough of a heavy sea. Sometimes, without an instant’s warning, he found himself dropping like a shot, and the next moment, as though raised on the crest of a mighty billow, sent shooting upward.
The clouds were growing thicker; the curious, half luminous light was being replaced by a deep and forbidding gloom, not like that of night or of anything else he had ever seen. And through this weird and seemingly unnatural darkness there occasionally came gleams of spectral bluish light which told him that the greatest artillery in the world was rapidly getting ready for action, and that before long it might be expected to break loose in all its majestic power.
Where was he?—far over the German territory? He could not tell; yet it seemed very likely that such was the case. At any rate, he must make for home. How?—below the clouds? No. There are limits to which one’s nerves can be subjected. He must climb through them and fly above. Single-handed it would not do to face those lying in wait below. He felt terribly alone—terribly friendless.
The darkness was suddenly torn asunder by a brighter flash and, for the first time, he heard a sullen rumble, which, beginning like the roll of muffled drums, rapidly increased until it was sounding in a crashing crescendo.
“Great Scott! This is about the worst ever!” muttered Don. “Yes, I certainly shall have something to talk about—only, it will be too much! I never expected that I’d be witnessing a storm from a balcony seat.”
He tried to impart a little jocularity to his tone, but the attempt was unsuccessful.
It was a pretty awesome thing to be amid the storm-clouds, with the coppery colored and bluish gleams now playing almost constantly about him; and this singular situation conjured up all sorts of strange fancies.
Now the wind was buffeting the Nieuport wildly about, tearing against the fuselage and planes in heavy gusts.
But at last Don Hale’s heart was gladdened by the sight of a circular patch of misty light; and presently shooting through a ragged opening in the clouds he saw the illumination spreading out on every side and caught a glimpse of blue in the great expanse above. Probably the most inspiring thing he had ever seen, it lifted a load from his mind. As the shadows produced a depressing effect, so the light seemed to radiate optimism and cheer.