Then they dipped and soared, the aviator always telling her what he was going to do so that she might not be taken by surprise. As they approached Chautauqua again they saw the people on the shore and the dock applauding but the noise of the engine was so great that the sounds did not reach them.
"Down we go," warned Mr. Graham, and in landing they reversed the starting process.
There were smiles and shouts of welcome for both of them as they beached.
"Hirondelle looks bully painted on the wings," called Roger.
Mr. Graham helped Ethel from her seat.
"You're the youngest passenger I've ever taken up," he said, "but I've never had a pluckier."
"Never a pluckier." Ethel Blue said the words over and over while Ethel Brown took her turn and sailed away toward Mayville and then down the lake for a five mile stretch.
"Never a pluckier."
She knew exactly why she had not been afraid. She had not felt that she was a girl trying to be a swallow; while the flight lasted she really had been the Hirondelle of her dreams.