“Nothing could be more simple; and when you desire to change your direction to the right or left?”
“I work this lever with my feet, as we do in tobogganing.”
“You have two smaller levers on the left.”
“They control the spark and throttle.”
“We won’t enter further into the construction of the machine at present. I am sure you were born to be a successful aviator.”
The quiet assurance of these words vastly strengthened the confidence of Harvey Hamilton. He knew the Professor believed what he said, and who could be more capable of correct judgment? Then, as if fearing he had infused too much courage into the youth, the instructor added:
“So far everything seems easy and simple. We were fortunate on our way here, in having the most favorable weather conditions, but you are sure sooner or later to run into complex conditions. Columns of cold air are forever pressing downward and warm ones pushing upward. This constant conflict creates air holes and all sorts of twists and gyrations that play the mischief with aviators, unless they know all about them.
“You have seated yourself, but don’t try to start till I give the word. I wish first to put you through a little drill. I shall call certain conditions and you must do the right thing on the instant. Are you ready?”
“Fire away,” replied Harvey, on edge in his expectancy.
“Ascend!”