The Lynden tribune. [volume] (Lynden, Wash.) 1908-current, 1911-11-23


face of an aeroplane. To the layman
the full import Of such a realization
cannot be understood in its full force.
Briefly it meant that the cloth which
alone held ME in the air had begun to
rip on that side. and I knew that at
the tremendous speed at which I was
going 1t would take only one good
grip of the wind under such a small
opening to tear the entire fabric from
front to rear, whip 1t OF the frame
and leave me absolutely unsupported
on that side to 60 crashing below.
All this flashed across my mind in
an instant. and I made up my mind
to turn about and try to get back to
the aviation field.
l came down In as easy curves as l
could because l did not want to put
any extra strain on the torn fabric.
and kept my eye glued on that VI
brating piece Of cloth, fascinated. held
spellbound by the problem Of whether
1t would continue to vibrate without
tearing until I got down another one
hundred feet or so to comparative
safety. or whether it was merely wait
ing until the last moment to give q
final shrieking rip as though in fend.
ish desire to tantalize me with false
hope as long as possible.
l know that cold sweat stood out all
over my body. and It was only by in
stinct that worked the controls Of
my machine, for my entire mind was
focused on that little Tapping shred
and all my thoughts revolved about
that one question of whether 1t would
hold long enough to let me get little
closer and have chance for safety
in the fall If the rip did come
Blessing Of Something to Do.
AS look back on it. 1 believe
never even noticed the jolting of the
wheels when at last touched the
ground. Dumbly and by instinct again
I had shut of the power on landing.
bringing the machine to full stop.
sat in my seat as my mechanics
came running up, and with my eyes
still glued fascinated to the spot where
had seen the Tapping cloth waited
for them. When one Of my men came
near l shouted to him to 60 over there
and see what was hanging to the
plane.
II do not see anything" he said
isn't there q shred Of the cloth
hanging there?" I asked.
He ducked under the plane and soon
came up. holding in his hand little
piece Of string four or five inches long.
1T wasn't piece Of CLOTH" he said.
lit was just a bit of string that got
caught in a bolt here"
Do not get the idea from what
have said that an aviator Is more or
less constantly engaged in fighting
fear when he is in fight. As rule.
a man in an aeroplane is far too busy
to think much of fear, especially when
he is taking part in some meet. There
are pylons or turning posts to be
rounded, grand stands and Enclosures
to be avoided. outlines Of ships to
drop bombs upon. circles and squares
to land in for accuracy aud all such
details that keep a mans mind fully
occupied. The earth is near and fash
es by at the rate of mile a minute.
and, more than likely, there are other
machines In the air at the same time.
and the rules Of the road must be
followed or there win be disqualified
ton If not total smashup. So the
aviator is too fully occupied in guild
ing his machine according to the rules
to think much about the danger he Ia
in, yet. oddly enough. 1t is in this very
competitive form Of flying that he 10
in most peril. In working by himself
he is least in danger, yet he Is likely
to be more in fear. for he has more
time to think Of his peril and not 20
much to occupy bis mind and 10 quiet
his nerves.
Panic From Nothing to Do.
Before l had gone very far into aero
planning had an experience In the air
which illustrates the point that the
many things a man has to do while
flying and think about for safety's
sake as a rule operate to keep his
mind away from fear.
had been well up In my Bleriot
several times and had felt very little
nervousness when a friend in England
invited me to accompany him and
party of guests on a balloon trip. As
the ground sank away beneath me
tried to feel some of the thrills that l
had felt in my good Bleriot. But they
did not come. There was no merry
cumming of the motor. no singing
rush of the wind. no sense of great
power overcoming nature, nothing to
give me the idea that l was doing
some of the work and that skill and
courage were necessary to success.
1t seemed that we were only hung
suspended by a tiny thread and that
all Of us were on edge. waiting for the
thread to snap and the whole outfit to
go crashing below to the far distant
earth and to destruction.
l could not get out of my mind this
sense of suspended fate-of helpless
waiting for something awful to hap
pen. I had never experienced 1t In
nv Bleriot. There all was action.
Muscles. mind. nerves were constantly
occupied with the glorious battle.
/ found myself looking at the ropes
that suspended the car. They were al
too thin and weak. 1t seemed to me,
for the weight of such party. I felt
nv nerves going fast felt the need
of fighting something. Of working e
yers. of directing the thing. Of doing
something or other that would give me
a chance. l was in a cold sweat. and
nv knees and teeth actually trembled.
I knew it was silly. yet I could not
help it. 1 was in a complete funk.
The awful stiffness, the oppressive
calm. the sense Of nothing to do and
nothing to be done-all SO different
from the inspiriting struggle in q fight.