“A little bit of bank and a little bit of rudder—round she goes. Now you try it. Pull the stick slowly over to the right till your wings bank up; then when you have enough bank, pull the stick back to the center and at the same time push your rudder slightly to the right.”
The plane swung around dizzily.
Armbruster’s voice came through the phones: “Ah, you used a little too much rudder. It skidded that time. Now we’ll try another one.”
This time Kiwi’s combination of bank and rudder were more nearly right, and the plane turned in a more normal fashion.
They flew straight for a while and then tried another turn to the right.
Armbruster now said:
“We’ll try one to the left. That’s harder because the torque of the propeller tends to pull the plane around to the left if you give it half a chance. So this time you need less pressure on the left rudder than you had before on the right.”
Kiwi’s first try was not so bad. But a later one pulled the plane around with a terrific snap and it commenced to do things that were beyond Kiwi’s understanding. He felt Armbruster’s hand on the controls as he rescued him from this predicament, and the old singsong came to him now, “A little bit of bank, a little bit of rudder—round she goes.”
This flight lasted much longer than the other, and before they had landed Kiwi was beginning to make smooth and graceful turns in either direction.
During one of these later turns Kiwi was much startled as his engine stopped in the middle of one of them, and they seemed to be in difficulties. Then he noticed that Armbruster had throttled back the engine, and his clear voice came to Kiwi saying: