The aviator jumps down, the passenger climbs out with somewhat less agility, perhaps, and expresses his very hearty thanks, the plane is turned around, the propeller started, and the machine flies off again, leaving the passenger to tramp slowly through the grass, contemplating the insignificance of the human creature who is forced to walk humbly along the ground. You may remember that the first time you descended from an automobile and began to walk, you seemed to yourself to be only marking time.
This new experience, though of the same nature as that, is far more impressive; not alone the difference in speed, but the whole character of the motion the altitude, the rushing wind, the sense of something long awaited and now realised sets the sensation of flight apart from any other, and makes him who once experiences it resolved to repeat the experience as soon and as often as possible.
The passenger is at once the object of eager inquiries as to how he felt, and he usually makes it his business to express his satisfaction whenever asked and sometimes without being asked, so there is little wonder that aviators are besieged by applicants for rides. A few months ago a lady who had been a passenger in an aeroplane was certain to get her picture in the papers; now there are so many that it would be difficult even to keep a record of them.
Now that we are coming to regard the aeroplane seriously, more from the practical and less from the grandstand side, it may be noted without fear of loss to gate receipts, that its dangers have been greatly exaggerated. Rational flight is hardly any more hazardous than motor speeding, steeple chasing, and many other sports, not to mention football! Engines stop and planes split, but steering gear breaks and horses stumble. Danger lurks everywhere, but we disregard it because the chances are long in our favour.
The real danger in aviation lies in the chances men take as desire lays hold upon them; chances the dangers of which they fully realise, but disregard for various causes. There are so-called "holes in the air," but they are hardly more numerous than gullies in the road. High wind is dangerous, but the aviator can often avoid its perils if he will. Briefly, aviation confined to its now well-defined limitations, is a thoroughly rational sport.
The "queer" sensation of flight comes in a quick rise, dip or short turn, and you can experience the same sensation in the elevator of a New York sky-scraper, Ferris wheel, shoot-the-chutes or even the back yard swing, for that matter! Dizziness from height is not experienced, for one sees the landscape spread out from high up and afar off, as if from a sheltered balcony; the tendency is not to look down but away.
While the rush of air is tremendous, it is not disagreeable, and one even forgets the deafening, unmuffled motor in the indescribable joys, mainly because of the wondrous charm and variety of the landscape which we have known only in detail, ignorant of its beauty as a mass. Apprehension, shuddering, gruesome, childish apprehension perhaps, at the starting, replaced by profound security as mastery, perfect mastery, is apparent; a sense of joyous freedom following as the marvellous world below is revealed. Like an exquisite monotone in low relief it is, each note of colour with its value and in perfect harmony with the whole; ever subtly changing, always some new surprise, some unexpected revelation, lifting one on the wings of exaltation.
The popular literary vehicle of to-day, rivalling the "fairy coach of Cinderella," is without question the alluring aeroplane, fitted with all the latest improvements: tachometer, inclinometer, animometer, barograph, aneroid, compass with map holders, lights, and all the modern conveniences and aviation equipment, including a wire-less telegraph outfit, having shock absorbers for landing and an enclosed limousine cabin with mica or celluloid windows, in which not only can our spirits be wafted about, but in which we may enjoy all the material comforts of speedy travel, free from present annoyances and inconveniences, and without requiring the inflated rubber suits which Mr. Rudyard Kipling so kindly provided for his passengers on board the now famous "Night Mail." Vehicles of this description already exist and an "aero-bus" has carried as many as thirteen passengers besides its driver. It is confidently predicted that twenty passengers will soon be carried in an aeroplane at one time.
There is no doubt but that in flying the higher faculties are called into play. No such elaborate preparation is necessary for learning to drive an automobile, but some instruction is usually found necessary when learning how to balance a bicycle for the first time and until confidence is secured, as is also the case in learning to swim. A good chauffeur does not necessarily make a good aviator even though he have exceptional ability as a driver of racing automobiles, although I think that an aviator might make a good driver of a racing automobile. This seems to indicate clearly to my mind that there is some additional quality required in flying. I know of one case where a successful automobile builder and driver killed himself on account of desperation over the fact that he could not master flying.
Actors and men with a keen sense of feeling seem to do well in the air. They seem to get the "feel of the air," or to have the delicate sense of touch which is required to handle an aeroplane among the illusive vagaries of the atmosphere, and to be able to sense its rapid action and feel its ever-changing conditions almost before they take effect. One must be absolutely en rapport with his machine, as an expert horseman is part of his horse or his horse is part of him; such a rider stands out from all the rest, a beautiful sight to see and an expression of the poetry of motion; such also is the manner of the master at the piano, whose very soul is in tune and vibrating with every subtle and rich harmony of the instrument, feeling at the same time the ever-changing mood of his audience as he sways them or is swayed by them in turn, keeping in close sympathy with their thoughts as well as suggesting to their minds the trend that they shall take.