She righted, lifted, again gathered speed.
More and more wild became the shooting, as she zigzagged, rose, soared into something like her old-time stride.

Behind her the sea drew back, the baffled destroyer dwindled, the harmless shots crashed in.
Ahead of her the desert opened.

Uncouth, lame, scarred by flame and shell, _Nissr_ spread her vast wings and--still the Eagle of the Sky, undaunted and unbeaten--roared into swift flight toward the waiting mysteries of the vacant abodes.
Mid-morning found _Nissr_ far from the coast, skimming along at fifteen hundred feet altitude over the Tarmanant region of the Sahara.
The one shell from the destroyer that had struck her had done no more than graze the tip of the starboard aileron, inflicting damage of no material consequence.

It could easily be repaired.
For the present, all danger of any interference from any civilized power seemed to be at an end.

But the world had discovered that _Nissr_ and her crew had not yet been destroyed, and the Legionaries felt they must prepare for all eventualities.