"Soon we ought to see something." Nor was that "something" long in appearing.

Not far ahead, yet so much below them as to look tiny, hundreds of flashes were seen.
"German artillery," Dick told himself.
Another minute, and he beheld flashes turned against the Germans.
"Between the two lines of artillery are the fire trenches of the opposing armies," Prescott realized with a thrill.
Next he found himself, at lower altitude, going squarely over a line of French batteries.
"Now comes the really ticklish work of the night!" Reade shouted back.

"When we try for a landing we'll endeavor to make our own crowd understand that, though this is a German machine, it comes on no hostile errand.

If we can't make the Frenchmen understand that, then they'll blow us back into the sky as soon as we range low enough!" Guided by that instinct which is the aviator's best compass at night, Reade steered toward the landing field.
Bang! came the report of a gun below, and a shell exploded dangerously close to the aircraft.

Tom switched on an electric light signal beneath the craft to show that a friendly craft sought safe landing.
At the same time Dick leaned as far over as he could and waved an arm slowly.