Around the World in Ten Days | Page 8

much like our southern cottonwood, and the wood apparently has no grain. It has a surprising toughness and strength, and is a trifle over half the weight of cork, weighing only 7.8 pounds per cubic foot, while the same sized piece of cork weighs 13.7 pounds."
"Has this wood ever been used in constructing full-sized airplanes?" asked Mr. Giddings.
"I think not; but Paul and I believe it will be the coming wood for them," said John with enthusiasm. "We have used it plain on this machine. On a large airplane it ought to be reinforced with transverse sections of very thin spruce laid latticewise. That would add considerably to its natural strength, and increase the total weight very little."
"H'm, h'm!" said the great newspaper publisher, "this is very interesting, I am sure. Now let us see how this little affair behaves itself in the air."
Paul and his brother led the way out into one corner of the big field, so as to bring what slight breeze might spring up into the head of the airplane, explaining that machines without a pilot would keep a better keel under such conditions. John then carefully attached the bicycle-pump and recharged the air-tank, following which he took out his watch to time the flight. Mr. Giddings and Bob also took out their watches.
Paul set the little Sky-Bird down on the hard earth, in a spot where there was no grass or other obstacle, and with his finger on the air-valve, said: "Practically all rubber-band motors require starting the model airplane off by picking it up and tossing it away from you up into the air; but I think this machine will rise from the ground like a large plane, on account of its great lightness and unusual power. We will now see if I am right."
To tell the truth, this being the first time he had really tried the Sky-Bird in a flight, Paul was nervous as he turned the valve, removed his hands from the graceful little plane, and straightened up.
With a whirr like the wings of a partridge as it is flushed out of the grass by the huntsman's dog, the small machine shot forward a few feet over the smooth ground, then gracefully arose in the air and started away toward the opposite corner of the field. As it proceeded it continued to rise, until it reached a height of possibly ninety or a hundred feet, when it began to dip unsteadily.
"It's a gust of wind striking it," remarked John uneasily. "I hope she weathers it. If there was only a pilot in her now, he could----"
But even as he spoke the Sky-Bird seemed to recover her balance. Making a pretty circle, away she sped on her course, neither rising nor falling. Like a real bird she sailed onward, the noise of her whirring propeller now lost to her fliers, but her little pale-yellow silk wings against the blue sky plainly tracing her course for them. Paul was running after her now as fast as his legs could carry him. What if she should keep right on and go over the far fence?--he might lose the little darling!
That fence was a good half-mile away. For his pet to cover such a distance had not seemed within the bounds of probability to either himself or John at the start, for all of their great confidence in the flying powers of the new model. Now, as he kept on running and the Sky-Bird continued going with no sign of dropping, Paul really became alarmed for her safety in landing.
But just before it reached the boundary of the grounds, the youth saw that the airplane was slowly settling. Into the next field it flew, and the high board fence shut it from Paul's view as he came up to it. With a jump he caught the top boards, and scrambled up, springing down on the opposite side. It was to see his little machine just miss the branches of an oak tree and settle down into some long grass about a hundred yards beyond.
He found it undamaged, and hurried back to his friends in the fair-grounds, his heart beating jubilantly at the splendid results of the flight. He hugged the small airplane to his heart as if it were the most precious possession in the world, as indeed it was to him.
Mr. Giddings and Bob were loud in their praise, and John smiled in that quiet way that told the younger brother how well pleased he was. It was found that the Sky-Bird had passed over the lower fence in just one minute and three seconds, which was certainly good speed for such a diminutive contrivance. Several other flights were then made, all of which were equally successful. At the conclusion Bob Giddings was so