“I have established one astonishing fact in natural history: the deer and other big game in Maine, the Adirondacks and elsewhere know exactly when the close season ends and they govern themselves accordingly. That buck last summer continually got in front of me, was as tantalizing as he could be even to the extent of grinning at me, knowing all the time that I daresn’t harm a hair of his hide. Now that it is the open season, you might run a fine tooth comb from one end of Essex County to the other without bringing him to light. If I stay here until November 1, he will walk out of the woods at sunrise, halt twenty paces away and grin at me again. But let him beware: he may tempt me too far.”
CHAPTER XXVII.
BRAVE MEN ALOFT.
ONE cannot help speculating upon the fascinating subject of aviation. Its progress during the past few years, the advancements of every day and the certainties near at hand lead us to wonder what kind of airship will sail down the invisible highways of the sky in the future. Danger incites rather than deters man from attempts to enter the seemingly forbidden field. Many years ago a philosopher remarked that if a train were advertised to make the run from New York to Philadelphia in twenty minutes, but that it could carry only fifty passengers, of whom one half were absolutely certain to be killed on every trip, not a seat would be vacant when the start was made.
On the last day of the year 1910, Arch Hoxsey at Los Angeles, and John B. Moisant at New Orleans, two of the most daring and successful aviators, plunged to death while giving an exhibition of their wonderful skill. This brought the death list for the year up to forty, and more than likely ere these lines are read the fatalities will be increased. None the less the development of the aeroplane will go on: With what result?
Well within the present decade aeroplanes will easily fly from the Atlantic to the Pacific; express and mail carriers will deliver quickly their packages to the corners of the earth; a speed of two hundred miles an hour will be attained, so that a man may take breakfast in New York and on the following morning do the same in London or Paris. An automatic stability device will render accidents well nigh impossible; aeroplanes will become as numerous and cheaper than automobiles; merchants and day toilers will have their domestic machines in which they will go to and return from their places of business; very soon the electric aeroplanes will be operated by wireless transmission of power, and will become active in war, both as scouts for the army and navy, and through their appalling power of destruction compel nations to remain at peace with one another.
No one is so well qualified to guess the near possibilities of aviation as those who have already been successful in that field.
“The air is the only element conquered by man,” said Glenn Curtiss, “in which the speed promises to be limitless. The improvements that are being made daily will bring a marvelous increase in swiftness of travel. I have no doubt that two hundred miles an hour will be as common as is one-fourth of that rate on our railways.
“This development will be wonderfully assisted by the army and navy. The aeroplane will be a decisive factor in warfare. Not only will it be invaluable for scouting purposes and for carrying messages back and forth, but it will be an awful engine of destruction. A fleet of aeroplanes could annihilate New York in a day. Soaring in the sky, safe beyond rifle or artillery range, it could sound the last trump for the proudest and most populous city in the world.