“Is that what this is for?” asked Jack.
“Yes,” replied Mr. Swaim. “We cleared the snow off it on purpose to use for our trials. An aeroplane, you know, as at present constructed, has to get a start on the ground, in order to acquire enough momentum to rise. I find it much easier to skim along on the slippery ice, than over the ground. Well, are we all ready, Stephen?”
The red-haired man, who was the chief mechanic, nodded an assent. He and Mr. Swaim got into a seat, adjusted some levers and wheels, and then another man cranked up the motor.
The great propellers, built like the wings of a bird, began to work, with a sound that was exactly like that heard over the camp. The aeroplane slid forward, and after going for some distance over the frozen pond, rose into the air, as Mr. Swaim shifted the elevation rudders.
Up, up, up it went, until it was higher than the mountain down which the boys had slid. Then it began to circle about.
“My! But that’s fine!” exclaimed Jack.
“Jupiter’s Johnnie cake! But it certainly is!” exclaimed Nat fervently.
For half an hour or more Mr. Swaim circled about in the air overhead; then he and Stephen came down, landing on the pond with scarcely a jolt.