CHAPTER VI--DUBLIN DAN
Don Hale, standing before a much battered and bespattered "penguin,"experienced a delightful thrill, which ran through his entire being.Brimming over with ambition, equally full of confidence, he could seenothing ahead of him but success.
The moniteur in whose charge Don and several others were placed was arather youthful and pleasant-spoken Frenchman. In a quick, incisivefashion, he began to give a little lecture on the airplane.
"The body is known as the fuselage," he explained. "At the front andjust beneath the wings, as you see, is the engine and propeller. Thisparticular type of plane, and in fact the majority, are drawn and notpushed through the air. The pilot is seated in the cockpit immediatelybehind the motor. Two rudders and two ailerons are placed at the rear ofthe fuselage. The former, vertical, and used for steering the planehorizontally, are operated by a cross-piece of wood upon which the pilotrests his feet. The ailerons are horizontal, connected with a controlstick by means of wires, and, of course, tilt the plane either up ordown. The control stick is an upright lever in front of the pilot'sseat. These are details, however, that you need not bother with now.Monsieur Hale, take your place in number thirty-five. Monsieur Hagen mayuse number twelve."
Both boys immediately followed instructions, and, after each hadsecurely fastened the belt designed to prevent an unceremonious exitfrom the plane, the moniteur explained, first to one and then the other,the proper handling of the engine and rudders.
"The two most important things to remember," he said, "are to keep thetail off the ground and the engine going at full speed."
With his nerves at the keenest tension, Don Hale waited for the commandto start. Out of the corner of his eye he could see groups standing bythe machine, watching him, it seemed, in deadly silence. The familiarfigure of George Glenn among them nerved the boy to do his utmost.
"Ready, sir?" asked the mechanician standing by the propeller.
"Ready!" answered Don.
"Throw on the switch!"
With a hand that trembled in spite of all his efforts to control it, DonHale obeyed.
The mechanician whirled the propeller, and in another moment the motorwas emitting a deafening roar; and in still another the "penguin," asthough suddenly endowed with life, began a headlong flight over therather uneven ground.
With all his senses keenly alert, Don Hale felt the rushing wind fanninghis cheeks; and a sort of wild exhilaration took possession of him asthe "penguin," like a runaway locomotive, sent the ground speedingbehind at a rate which fairly dazzled his eyes.
But why did the "penguin" wobble and stagger in such an extraordinarymanner?
The more desperately Don strove to assert his authority over theman-made bird the more he seemed to lose his control. Now he felt itswinging to the left; then, a too hasty push with his foot on thesteering apparatus threatened to send it wildly careening off to theright. Above the roar of the motor he could faintly hear the shouts andyells of the crowd which he was leaving so far behind.
The confidence which Don had felt before jumping into the machine wasgiven a rude and unpleasant jolt; and, besides this, the speed anderratic movements of the "penguin" were so bewildering as to make theboy lose, for a moment, his usual coolness. The sudden thought, too,that George Glenn was witnessing the almost absurd capering of the"penguin" served only to add to his discomfiture and apprehension.
In his tremendous eagerness to conquer the difficulties, Don made asudden movement with the control stick, lifting the tail high off theground, and at the same time he added to his mistake by pushing therudder too far around. The result was almost terrifying. The "bird," asthough roused to sudden fury by his action, began to whirl around andaround, its speed seeming to increase with each passing second.
Dazed and dizzy the pilot had just sufficient presence of mind left toshut off the power. But the "penguin" had already begun to somersault.
Don Hale experienced a chilling and sickening fear. So suddenly that hecould scarcely realize what had happened, the airplane tumbled over. Heheard the sound of breaking supports and felt the impact of a blow. Thenhe found himself pinned to the ground amidst a mass of wreckage.
Several seconds elapsed before he could think coherently enough todecide that beyond a few bruises and scratches he had not been injured.And, although the "penguin" was as motionless as though it had nevermade a movement in the whole of its checkered career, the ground stillseemed to be whirling rapidly before his eyes. But the dizziness, thepains and aches he was experiencing were as nothing compared to hisdisillusionment. He had fully expected to make a grand and triumphaltrip straight across the flying _piste_ to the flag which marked the endof the course and to hear the plaudits of George, the praise of themoniteur and the comments of the admiring crowd. And here he was--in anundignified heap, with the breath almost knocked out of his body, andresponsible for the ending of the tempestuous career of what had beenbut a few moments before a staunch and sturdy "penguin."
Oh yes, he must have surprised his chum George Glenn--of that therecouldn't be the slightest doubt!
As Don began painfully to extricate himself, with grim forebodings ofwhat the consequences of the disaster might be, he became conscious ofthe fact that from almost every point people were running in hisdirection. He felt the hot blood rushing to his face; he experienced afeeling, too, somewhat akin to anger--for his sharp ears had caught whatsounded suspiciously like bursts of hilarious laughter.
And, to add to the boy's discomfiture, he caught sight of a "penguin,"wobbling and shaking like a ship in a raging sea, approaching. He hadone brief, instantaneous glimpse of a tremendously grinning face--thatof Dublin Dan's--as the machine lurched swiftly past. A short time laterthe foremost of the crowd bore down upon him.
"Are you hurt, Don? Are you hurt?" cried George Glenn, breathlessly.
"No--no!" jerked out Don.
And, as though these words were a signal for a jollification to begin,roars of laughter and howls of merriment broke loose on every side. Thestudents were not averse, it seemed, to enjoying the humor of thesituation.
"We have seen the human spinning-top!" guffawed one.
"What a wonderful merry-go-round!" gurgled another. "Sixty miles an hourwithout budging an inch!"
"Say, boy, wasn't that enough to make you remember it?" chirped a third.
"You were chasing your tail so fast you nearly caught up with it,"chimed in a fourth. "At any rate, it's certainly a case for the Societyfor the Prevention of Cruelty to Birds, even though it was a tough oldrooster."
Now Don Hale, quite unsteady on his feet, having a jumping throb in hisforehead, and being, besides, in a very disgusted state of mind, couldnot, of course, enter into the spirit of jollification, yet,nevertheless, by a strong effort of the will, he managed to control histongue and temper.
"I'm glad you enjoyed the impromptu performance, boys," he said,pleasantly. "I don't believe I'll ever be able to equal it again.Ah----"
This "ah!" uttered with the most peculiar intonation, was brought fromhis lips by the mere fact of his eyes having caught those of themoniteur.
But instead of the angry, steely expression he had expected to see theboy was amazed to observe that the Frenchman appeared as unconcerned asthough the incident was of the most trivial character. Yet even this didnot take away the fear that he was in for a neat little "bawling out."
"Monsieur Hale, one sometimes learns more by his mistakes than by histriumphs," were the words he heard, however. The instructor spoke ingenial tones. "Let us hope that it will be true in this case! Come!--nowfor another trial!"
Like a flash, Don Hale's mood was changed; his usual buoyancy reasserteditself, and he was now as well able to laugh over his adventure as anyof the others. He also had very grateful feelings toward the moniteurfor his forbearance.
"Dublin Dan's ahead in the race so far!" he exclaimed, laughingly, tohis chum George Glenn.
"Never mind! The day isn't over yet,"
said George, with a smile.
Full of ardor, full of determination to retrieve himself, the _eleve_pilot took the lead in marching back to the starting point.
There were always two things on the practice field which well testifiedto the hazardous nature of the work; a fleet of extra "penguins" and anambulance. One of the former was very quickly rolled into place by theassistants. And Don, his ears assailed by a multitude of suggestions andwords of advice, climbed at once to his seat.
By this time numerous other "penguins," at widely separated points, weretraveling over the field. Number twelve, Dan's machine, could actuallybe seen racing toward them on the home stretch; and in an incrediblyshort space of time the dull gray wings loomed up strongly against theturf. Following a few extraordinary movements, the machine stoppedabruptly, and from the occupant of the pilot's seat there immediatelycame a series of loud and boisterous hurrahs.
"Maybe I didn't have a bully trip!" he shouted. "Thought at first,though, I couldn't stop the engine, and that I'd have to go clean aroundthe whole earth and come back again. But say, old stay-in-one-place, Ican almost feel, even now, the caressing touches of those wind-blownclouds on my cheeks."
"Well, that's a great deal better than feeling the caresses of the hardearth, as I did a few moments ago," laughed Don.
"_Allez, allez! En route!_"[2] commanded the moniteur.
Don, experiencing the same measure of confidence he had had before,though it was now tempered by a much greater respect for thedifficulties of the task, waited expectantly.
"Now!" he breathed.
The blades were revolving; the engine began its deafening roar--and,once more, Don was flying over the turf as though hurled from the mouthof a catapult. The new pilot had learned his lesson well. He realizedthat a firm though delicate movement of the controls is necessary toassure safety and success.
Faster, still faster, the "penguin" tore ahead; and though its movementswere far from being smooth it kept to a comparatively straight course,only occasionally displaying an alarming tendency to turn over on itsface.
Almost breathless from the effects of the violent wind which continuallybeat against his face, and as jubilant as a few moments before he hadbeen in despair, Don Hale kept his eyes fixed intently on the flagahead; and there grew in him a curious feeling that he was being carriedalong by some wild, unruly runaway. One moment the flag had appeared dimand small in the distance; the next it rose large and sharply defined.
The young pilot switched off the power, the "penguin" began to diminishspeed and after running many yards beyond the goal stopped its headlongflight.
That was certainly a proud moment to the new candidate. The stain of hisformer defeat was now entirely wiped away. He was convinced that, afterall, he had made an auspicious beginning.
"Much good!" exclaimed one of the Annamites, who was stationed in thefield to turn the machines around. "One grand fly!"
"Thanks!" laughed Don. "And I'll do better next time."
He was, however, to have his confidence a little shaken on the returntrip; for the "bird," apparently without any reason at all, showed analmost irresistible tendency to fly off at a tangent, first in onedirection and then another. And when this was finally overcome it seemedto display an equally ardent desire again to bury its nose in the turf.Several times Don had alarming visions of another inglorious smash.
It was, therefore, with the greatest feelings of relief that he againbrought the machine to a stop.
And before this had been accomplished he heard George Glenn shout:
"Great--great! Well done, old chap!"
"Surprised, George?" asked Don, gleefully, when he could catch hisbreath.
"No; there are never any surprises on an aviation field," laughinglyrejoined the other.
"_Vous avez fait de progres, mon ami_,"[3] commended the moniteur."Better take a few moments' rest before starting in again."
Don Hale thought so, too. Naturally, he hadn't quite recovered from theeffects of his exhilarating experience. His pulse was beating a triflehard, and, unaccustomed to the rushing wind which had beaten sorelentlessly upon him, there still remained some of its effects.
"I'm in a better position now to appreciate the feelings of Drugstore,"laughed Don to a little knot gathered about him. "Honestly, I thinkflying must be the greatest sport in the world."
"It's certainly the highest," chirped Tom Dorsey.
"You've got the right idea, son," chimed in Gene Shannon. "Treat the oldbirds gently, and you'll soon be in a position to treat the Bochesrough."
For a while Don was content to watch the antics of the "penguins," whichwere now swarming over the field in great numbers, and, as on everyprevious occasion, he found plenty of thrills in the sight--collisionsnarrowly averted and machines performing the "chevaux de bois," as theFrench say, which, freely translated, means acting like amerry-go-round.
Some time later on he was off in the airplane again, and shot forth andback across the field a number of times, with generally fair success,before taking another welcome rest.
Equally pleased over the afternoon's work was Dublin Dan; and heproclaimed his satisfaction in a loud and boisterous manner.
"You won't find me encouraging the scrap heap industry," he chuckled."I'm going to tear right through this course and hit the next before I'mmany days older."
"Well, so long as you don't hit me I'm satisfied," said Don, with alaugh.
"Never mind. Don't crow too soon," interjected the pessimistic Ben Holt."You chaps are a long way from the sky yet. It's pretty blue up there;and I've seen a few fellows just as blue when they couldn't make it."
"I'll see red if I don't make it," chirped Dan.
A few minutes later Dublin Dan was taxiing across the field, while Donleisurely prepared to follow his example--in fact, so leisurely that itwas not until number twelve was seen returning that he opened thethrottle and sent the "penguin" at full speed ahead.
Ever mindful of the danger of collision, the boy was particularlycareful to give the oncoming machine plenty of room, for, owing to thetremendously high rate of speed at which they were traveling, it wouldbe only a few moments before the machines were abreast of one another.
Don Hale noticed that number twelve had suddenly begun to act in themost wildly erratic manner--so much so, indeed, as to suggest that thepilot must have gone all to pieces.
What was the matter? How did it happen that the unusually promisingpupil should have lost control of his machine?
And while these thoughts were flashing through his mind he suddenlybecame filled with a chilling sense of dismay and fear; for numbertwelve had deviated from its course and was bearing down upon him in azigzagging line with almost the speed of a lightning express.
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Footnote 2:
"Go--on your way!"
Footnote 3:
"You have made progress, my friend."