“Several,” he declared proudly. “Once I remained in the air for thirty-seven minutes. I can do better than that, now, for I have here an improved machine and the condition of the atmosphere in these latitudes is almost perfect, since the storm cleared.”
He took his seat in the machine. We had cleared a long run along the deck, from stern to stem, for his use in starting.
“First,” said he, “I’ll take a turn among those boats over the reefs. I may land here on my return, or I may keep on over the island; it will depend upon circumstances.”
Every soul aboard had gathered to watch this interesting attempt, and I noticed that Lucia’s eyes were big and sparkling with excitement. Alfonso was quite the hero of the hour and it filled him with pride and elation to be the observed of all observers. His father, who had always vigorously opposed his son’s experiments with airships, but realized the fact that the biplane might be of much service to the revolution, was a curious and silent spectator. He had indulged in a stiff argument with Alfonso the night before, but had met defeat at the hands of his wayward son. The boy’s courage and confidence were indisputable, and perhaps Señor de Jiminez was a bit proud of his son’s progressive ideas.
“The airship is bound to be a great factor in the future history of nations,” asserted Alfonso, and this could not be successfully controverted until the future revealed itself and became history.
Joe and I followed directions in turning the motor and running the machine along the deck for a start. It rose just before it reached the bow, soared over the rail and headed straight out to sea, still ascending. Absolute silence pervaded the anxious group on deck. We could plainly hear the whir of the motors as the biplane, swift as a dart, flew over the reefs, descried a graceful curve and circled around the boats a hundred feet or more in the air.
The Faytans were certainly a stolid lot, as we afterward proved; but the flight of the airship was so startling that they craned their necks to watch it, and some rose in the canoes while others ducked down and covered their heads as if in terror. Fear was unknown to this people, but superstition bound them in chains, and this surely seemed like a demonstration of the gods.
I must admit the boy handled the machine beautifully, and it responded to his touch like a thing of life. Several times he circled around, then swept out to sea until he was a mere birdlike speck, and finally came back and headed directly for the ship. Perhaps it had been five or six minutes since he left us, but to us it seemed an hour, so excited were we by his daring and his success.
We kept the deck clear, pressing close to the rail, and it seemed Alfonso’s intention to land. He came toward us in a straight line; then the machine dipped, for as it neared us it was fully three hundred feet above the sea. Now the aëronaut shut down the motors and glided gracefully downward at an angle of nearly forty degrees. We were preparing to shout our applause, when like a great bird the biplane swept over the deck, struck the mainmast at about its middle and came crashing down in a heap—operator and aëroplane being mixed in a confused jumble.