In the leading machine the Head of the Air Force was sitting beside the pilot. He had a world atlas on his knees and he kept staring first at the atlas, then at the ground below, trying to figure out where they were going. Frantically he turned the pages of the atlas.
“Where the devil are we going?” he cried.
“I haven’t got the foggiest idea,” the pilot answered. “The Queen’s orders were to follow the giant and that’s exactly what I’m doing […] This place we’re flying over now isn’t on the atlas, is it?”
[…]”You’re darn right it isn’t on the atlas!” cried the Head of the Air Force. “We’ve flown clear off the last pages!” […] He turned the page. As in all atlases, there were two completely blank pages at the very end. “So now we must be somewhere here,” he said, putting his finger on one of the blank pages.
“Where’s here?” cried the Head of the Army.
The young pilot was still grinning broadly. He said to them, “That’s why they always put two blank pages at the back of the atlas. They’re for new countries. You’re meant to fill them in yourself.”