CHAPTER XIXTWENTY YEARS HENCE

Fig. 100.—Eastbourne to Dover, 54 miles.

At Dover, while resting and taking a meal, you discuss your next flight; and it is decided to make for Eastchurch, in the Isle of Sheppey, where there is a busy and important aerodrome, and the naval airmen have their school. This, as seen byFig. 101,represents a flight of only 27 miles. Away again, therefore, and flying now inland, you pass Canterbury and some belts of woodland: then, flying above the river Swale, you find you are over Sheppey and with Eastchurch right before you. Here, in the middle of the sleepy little island, where an active colony of airmen has been formed, the Royal Aero Club has its flying ground; and it is here, too, that Messrs. Short Brothers, after moving from Leysdown, a few miles away, established an aeroplane factory in which—after building Wright biplanes under licence from the famous brothers—they developed those splendid sea-planes which are used in the naval service.

Fig. 101.—Dover to Eastchurch, 27 miles.

From Eastchurch, where there is much to be seen, many routes may be chosen upon the aerial highway. One may fly to Brooklands or Uphaven, to Farnborough or Amesbury or Huntingdon. But you determine probably that, returning to Hendon for the night, you will house your aircraft there, and so be ready next day for some other tour afield. Your course lies to East Tilbury, a distance of 19 miles; then to Enfield, 25 miles—so asto avoid passing above London; and thence, an 8-mile stretch, steering W.S.W., to the landing ground at Hendon. The route is shown inFig. 102. It makes, in all, a flight of slightly more than 50 miles; and as it necessitates crossing the Thames—a flight out of bounds according to aerial law—you will need to have obtained a permit, as was the case with your journey to Dover.

Fig. 102.—Eastchurch to Hendon, 53 miles.

In the cool of the summer’s evening, refreshed by a cup of tea, you leave Eastchurch behind you and set off upon your final flight. Your course lies W.N.W., and soon you pass from the island and have the waters of the Medway below your feet. Then on again over land, with the mouth of the Thames upon your right. East Tilbury is now ahead, and you cross above the Thames, with Gravesend to the left and a wide, open stretch of river behind. Then with Essex beneath, and the river still winding to his left, your pilot steers towards Enfield. Soon the smoke of London looms in the distance to the west, and you pass near districts where the houses stand close-packed. Now Enfield is reached, and the steersman makes his turn: then, ten minutes or so later, thesong of the engine is stilled; and in the gathering dusk—impressively and without a sound—you begin your downward glide. Round in a wide, smooth circle, and with his planes “banked” steeply, does your pilot wheel. Then you come finally to rest, and climb a little stiffly from your seats: the day’s air-tour is done. Visiting four aerodromes, three of them at the brink of the sea, you have flown a total distance of just over 200 miles.

On another day, perhaps, you will fly to Oxford; or tour above the West of England and alight at Filton, near Bristol; here and there even now, at the grounds dotted about the country, you will find facilities for landing. Should there be no aerodrome near, and a descent becomes inevitable, then your pilot must choose the best field he can see, and alight in that: it is all part of the adventure. Sometimes, certainly, a motor will fail in awkward circumstances—say when a pilot is over wooded or precipitous country. But with the airman, always, it is a point of honour that he should see the humorous side of things; and this gayness of outlook he will, even under most trying circumstances, strive manfully to maintain. Flying across country one day with a passenger, a pilot heard a sound from his motor that told him some valve or rod had broken; and the next moment, without further warning, the engine stopped. The wind at the time was gusty, and the ground below unsuitable for landing; but the pilot remained unperturbed. Perceiving beneath him an orchard, which seemed to offer the least of many evils as an alighting point, he leaned towards his passenger with a smile.

“I hope,” he said, “you’re fond of apples.”

Fig. 103.— Landing areas for foreign aircraft.The portions of the map shaded heavily inblack indicate the alighting points.

So far, when he tours the air, a pilot has few restrictions.He must not fly above certain areas, it is true, but in the main the sky is free to him, and as yet he need not register or number the craft he buys, like the owner of a motor vehicle has to do. The fact is, however, that laws for the air have been studied, and in some cases a schedule prepared; but no definite scheme of rules has, up to the present, been placed upon the Statute books. The intention is, indeed, to allow the science to develop with as few limitations as may be possible. There are so many problems to be solved in regard to the governing of flight, that they can only be dealt with as they arise. The air, as an element in which men may navigate a craft, has aspects which are unique. Oceans and continents, for example, all have their limitations: the land ends and the sea begins, and then the sea in its turn gives place again to land. The traveller from London, say, to Paris, first passing from inland to the sea, has to leave the train and embark upon a boat, only to change again into a train and finish his journey—as he began—by way of the land. But an aerial voyager between the two cities finds no restrictions such as these: the air has only one boundary—the point at which it touches the surface of the earth; and so he may rise from London, and fly with equal facility above land or sea.

Although the air has no limitations, such as are encountered by land or sea, there has been discussion between nations as to the rules they should impose to control the flight of craft. It has been agreed, without question, that the air-space over the high seas should be regarded as free, and also above territory that is unoccupied. The idea of an aerial law which is thoughtmost reasonable, indeed, is that the sky over the whole globe should be declared free for traffic, but that each nation should be allowed to enforce rules to prevent attack or spying from above, and to check aerial smuggling. But that flying over a frontier might be controlled by a corps of aerial police is considered hardly feasible: it would be almost impossible indeed—had he made up his mind to do so—to prevent an airman from crossing above some boundary. Even were there patrol craft on duty, he could rise high among the clouds and so escape detection.

Such difficulties as these will, sooner or later, have to be faced; but at present there are in existence only the simplest of laws, and these have been framed for the safety of the public, and to protect strategical areas from the attentions of foreign spies. Flying over towns is—as has been stated—declared a dangerous practice, and is no longer allowed; while the officials of our Home Office, after consultation with the naval and military authorities, have imposed restrictions upon the entry into this country of foreign craft. A machine reaching our shores from abroad can only land,for instance, between the points specified below, and outlined uponFig. 103, and then only after its pilot has given eighteen hours’ notice to the Home Office, either by letter or telegram, of his intended flight:[3]

It is declared unlawful for an aircraft entering England from abroad to carry any goods upon which Customs duty is payable, or the importation of which is prohibited by law; any photographic apparatus, carrier pigeons, explosives, or firearms, or any mails. Upon arrival in one of the landing areas prescribed, the airman fills up an official report, and obtains a permit which allows him to continue his flight inland. Before leaving the country, upon his return abroad, he must alight in one of the coastal areas. No exemptions are granted to these rules unless by the authority of the Home Office, and no foreign naval and military aircraft are permitted to fly over or land in England unless upon a Government invitation.

A number of points in the United Kingdom have been specified over which, for strategical reasons, no flying is permitted—although such rules do not apply ofcourse to British naval and military craft. The mouth of the Thames is closed to aviation; fortifications like those at Dover are declared out of bounds; also dock-yards such as that at Portsmouth. The question arises naturally: how are these rules to be enforced? What is to prevent an aircraft infringing them? By the Act of Parliament in which they are set forth, there is a clause which reads:

“If an aircraft flies or attempts to fly over any area prescribed under this Act for the purposes of the defence or safety of the realm ... it shall be lawful for any officer designated for the purpose by regulations made by the Secretary of State, to cause such signal as may be prescribed by those regulations to be given, and, if after such signal has been given the aircraft fails to respond to the signal ... it shall be lawful for the officer to fire at or into such aircraft, and to use any and every other means necessary to compel compliance.”

Guns for use against aircraft have already been placed around our coasts, and some of these would be employed no doubt to fire upon a pilot who seemed deliberately to break the law; but this assumes of course that he is visible; were he flying very high, or were clouds to obscure the view, he might defy the officials who watched below. Just what may happen, when such laws are required for daily use, time alone will show; at present, beyond the bringing to our police courts of certain foreign pilots who have flown above prohibited areas on their way from France to Hendon, no data is available; and these offending airmen, pleading that they had no knowledge of the new laws, have been treated leniently by magistrates.

The whole question of aerial law must be consideredseriously by the nations; and in view of the preparation of some general code of rules the International Aeronautical Federation—which is the central authority upon aviation, and represents the world’s Aero Clubs—has held many meetings and drafted a number of proposals. It is held, to begin with, that all aircraft must be registered, and that an international list of machines must be compiled; also that craft must be marked with letters indicating their nationality—such as “G.B.” for Great Britain and “F” for France. By such means, and particularly by use of an international register, any craft could be identified, even if flying in a foreign country; and should it escape observation while in the air by flying high, it would need ultimately to land, and would then have its identity revealed. The pilot in charge would have identification papers, and a certificate showing his proficiency. The rules for obtaining such a certificate, in days when men take charge of large passenger machines, will need to be more exacting than they are at the present time; and it is argued that, before he is put in control of such a craft, an airman should pass a medical examination so as to show he is organically sound, and fit both in eyesight and nerve to steer a high-speed, powerful machine.

When a craft is registered, and its pilot has his certificate, it is considered necessary that—before he has a right to fly—he should apply for an official form, which would be known as a permit to travel. This would contain all necessary details for the identification of himself and his machine, and would allow him to fly anywhere within his own country: but it would not beavailable for an aerial tour abroad. He would be required, before starting upon a foreign flight, to give up this home permit, and obtain in place of it a special Customs’ bulletin. This would specify the nationality of the machine, give particulars of its registration, and provide details as to its passengers, goods, and baggage; also the date and place of its departure from England, with the destination to which it was bound. On landing abroad, the airman would hand to the authorities his bulletin, and receive in exchange a document showing that the Customs’ officers had examined his machine and that he had paid what duty might be claimed on any goods he carried; then, once he had this new document, he would be free to fly in the country visited.

It is in regard to the Customs that the greatest problem must be faced. Rules may be made, alighting points insisted upon, but how are aerial smugglers to be caught? It has been suggested that there should be a Customs’ police, provided with fast-flying machines; also that if a machine failed to descend when it ought, they should go in chase of it. But in days when, without once alighting, a flight of twenty-four hours will be easily accomplished, such officers might find themselves upon a wearisome pursuit; besides the probability that, either during the night or in a fog, they would be given the slip. Rendering easier aerial smuggling is the fact that, to discharge a small cargo of contraband over a given spot, the pilot need not alight. Fixing the package to a parachute, he could cast it free from his machine and continue swiftly upon his way—the parachute being secured with its burden by the confederates who werebelow. So difficult, in regard to aircraft, is this question of applying the Customs, that it has been argued air-borne traffic should—to save endless trouble and great expense—be allowed to go duty free.

A matter which is easier, and for which straightforward ruling may be framed, concerns the navigation of craft upon the airway. At present, with comparatively few machines, there is no great need for any code of rules: one pilot, should he sight another, can easily steer clear. But as the air becomes peopled, and there are streams of traffic between landing grounds, it will be very necessary to have a scheme of rules—rules, say, for meeting and passing, and for flying by day or night. What is suggested is that, with some modifications, the laws of the sea should be adapted to the air. Craft approaching each other should, it is held, bear away to the right, and never pass nearer than 300 metres (328 yards). When flying at night, a system of lights is recommended: white showing ahead, green to starboard, red to port, and another white light astern. Just before alighting when travelling by day, it is suggested that a pilot should show a red triangular flag; or, at night-time, wave a white light. When flying in daylight, and finding himself in distress, it is advised that a pilot should show a red triangular flag, and at the same time suspend from his machine two black balls, hung one above another; or, in the same circumstances at night-time, wave a white lamp and extinguish his side lights. The reason, in such a case, for extinguishing the side lights would be so as to show to other pilots only one lamp—the white one. This single white light will be the night signal of an ordinary balloon, andit will be the rule for all power-driven craft to make way for it, and an aeroplane or an airship, say when its machinery has broken down, being in the same position as a free balloon, will wave this white-light signal so as to warn other pilots to keep clear.

By degrees, as air-traffic grows, new laws and regulations will need to be applied. But at present, save for restrictions such as have been cited, an aerial tourist wings unfettered flight. The motorist has a speed limit of 20 miles; but the airman, 3000 feet aloft, has none; and, save for certain areas out of bounds, the sky is free wherever he may fly. Presently, however, the law must have its say, and air transit will be regulated as is the traffic of the land or sea. Already, in fact, our Home Office, after consulting experts, has its scheme of rules on paper; but these will not be enforced till the need comes.

The air, our future highway—Crossing the Atlantic—New York, for the week-end, by flying Pullman—Mail-carrying by air—The organisation of airways and air-stations.

It was in 1903 that the Wrights flew; and after this there were some years of waiting: then, in 1909, the world became aware that the air was conquered—not a conquest complete and absolute, but the first fruits of man’s victory. And now another five years have elapsed, and men ascend in gales of wind, fly between the capitals of Europe in a few hours, and travel 1000 miles without alighting. Above all, flying has been rendered safe: with a sound machine to-day, and a competent pilot, it is as safe in the air as it is on the ground. So much for five years: but aeroplanes are still small, and their engine-power is low; and airmen may be likened perhaps to the first navigators of the sea. They paddled tiny boats, and found they could control them; then longed for larger craft, with which they might cross the ocean, and bear passengers from land to land. And the aviator, weary of such planes as he must steer, longs also for a finer craft—larger, more powerful, capable of carrying heavy loads, and of crossing the Atlantic in a day.

The world’s demand is all for quicker transport; yet, either by land or sea, the speed of travel has almost reached its limit. To save a minute upon a time-table, even with express trains, is now a problem; while with a liner upon the sea, should a knot or so be gained, it is only at an expenditure which is costly both of money and of coal. But daily the cry is heard—speed, more speed; time, which represents money, is growing always more valuable. Men can speak to one another upon an instant, by the use of the telephone, even when many miles apart; they can flash messages across continents by cable, or through the air by wireless waves; but when they themselves seek to travel, or when they send their goods from place to place, they must rely still upon a train or steamer, and the best speed that these can make. Larger sums of money would be earned if passengers, letters, and merchandise could be moved more quickly. Business men become irritable when on long journeys, even in a 60-mile-an-hour dining-car train; and from merchants there is the cry always that mail services should be more rapid, and the transport of goods speeded up. In meeting this demand for high-speed transit lies the vast future of the aeroplane. Along the highways of the air, thousands of feet aloft—above mountains, forests, rivers, or seas—will pass the high-speed traffic of the future. No rails or permanent way need be built for the aeroplane; it provides its own. All the air service requires, indeed, is a chain of landing stations.

Already, by aeroplane, a speed of 140 miles an hour has been reached—more than two miles a minute; and this represents no limit. Higher-powered enginesare needed, and are now being built—although at the present time a motor giving 200 h.p. is approximately the best that can be obtained. What aeroplane constructors hope to procure, as soon as engine makers can provide them, are motors yielding thousands of horse-power—similar to those which are available for ships; and when such enginesareproduced, although large sums must be expended upon their development, the possibilities of aviation will be almost beyond belief. Aeroplanes will leap in size from that of a cockleshell to a liner; we shall have huge aerial vessels which will carry hundreds of passengers; and within twenty years—seated in comfortable, Pullman-car saloons, 10,000 feet above the water—we shall be crossing the wide Atlantic in less than twenty hours. Already, as shown by the photograph onPlate XVI, it is possible to build a biplane which will carry a crew of nine.

Air travel will have a luxury which is unknown by land or sea. Machines will rush forward with a smooth, vibrationless ease, and only the subdued hum from the power-plant, and the hissing of air past the polished hull, will indicate the speeds that are attained. In 1934, leaving London say on Friday in the afternoon, one will ascend in an air-liner and eat and sleep on board, arriving at New York on Saturday morning. Then, assuming you are a business man, and calls have been made and your interviews done, you will leave New York on Sunday afternoon and be in London again on Monday morning. There will be no more inconvenience in visiting America in the future, than there is to-day in going to Scotland or spending a week-end inParis. Mr. Rudyard Kipling, picturing the coming of this air age, has said:

“The time is near when men will receive their normal impressions of a new country suddenly and in plan, not slowly and in perspective; when the most extreme distances will be brought within the compass of one week’s—one hundred and sixty-eight hours—travel; when the word inaccessible, as applied to any given spot on the surface of the globe, will cease to have any meaning.”

Problems, of course, have still to be solved; but none are insurmountable or so difficult as was the initial problem of making an aeroplane fly. Granted in due course that greater engine-power will be obtained, a problem outstanding concerns the wing area of a machine. For bearing a heavy load, when a craft is ascending and its speed is low, a large area is needed; but once the machine is well aloft, has ceased climbing, and is driving straight ahead, then its surface may be curtailed. A bullet rushes through the air by its own momentum; and with an aeroplane, as the speed grows high, only a small wing area is required. If a craft cannot curtail its surface, if it exposes when in full flight just as much area as it used when climbing, then the power of its motors is wasted and its efficiency impaired. What is wanted for high-speed flight, and what time and experiment should provide, is a method of reefing the planes of a machine. This would mean that, rising from the ground with its maximum surface, a machine would telescope its plane-ends gradually when a height had been reached, and continue so to reduce them until there came a limit of speed. In this way, and with multiple engines, a flying speed should be attained—evenwith large, heavily laden craft—of quite 200 miles an hour. Wind resistance, of course, will need to be considered, and “stream-lining” brought to its perfection. In the future, indeed, sloped delicately and trimmed to their finest lines, the hulls of high-speed craft should become pictures of grace.

In the carrying of mails, and for bearing urgently-consigned goods, there will be another field for reliable, fast-flying craft; and already, in actual tests which have been made, the value of the air-mail has been demonstrated. At Hendon, for instance, towards the end of 1911, an experiment was performed in which the Post Office showed interest. The object was to carry special letters and postcards, packed in ordinary mail-bags, between the aerodrome and a landing ground at Windsor; and in spite of bad weather, with treacherous winds and rain, flights were made almost daily and at high rates of speed. Letters and postcards borne thus through the air had reached, when the experiment ended, a total of 130,000. But before a public service could be installed machines would need, of course, to be reliable. They would be required to start punctually to the minute and to fly day after day without mishap, defying all weather save the worst of gales. And such efficiency will in fact be reached: it is a question merely of time. The aeroplanes used in this Hendon test were small and of low power; hence, despite the courage and experience of their pilots, they were at the mercy of gusty winds. But the air-mail of the future—large, metal-built, and driven by many motors—will thrust its way, unscathed, into the teeth of a gale of wind. Picture the start of such a craft, in the days when thereis, say, an air-service between London and St. Petersburg. The mail-bags are borne swiftly to the aerodrome, and here stands the machine. Its widespread sustaining planes are fashioned from plates of metal—a metal light and yet amazingly strong; and between the planes, with a wedge-shaped bow, lies the car or body of the machine, with outlook windows along its front, and doors upon either side. Behind the lifting wings there are metal propellers; and sternwards the craft tapers until it ends with the control planes and rudder. In the hull, just behind the fore-car, men of the postal service are busy with the storage of mails; then, when her load is all aboard, appear the crew of three who are to voyage through the air. First comes the air-mail driver; he is in supreme control; and with him is a mechanic, a highly skilled man, whose task it is to tend the motors and see that they, and all the other working parts, are running smoothly during the hours that the machine is in flight. The third man to enter the fore-car is an official of the Post Office, who travels in charge of the mails.

The sliding door in the hull is closed; men step back away from the machine; and upon her controlling platform the pilot, leaning forward slightly, pulls over a lever. Instantly, as he does so, there comes a throb and a hum; the engines wake to life and the big propellers, flickering faster and faster, drive astern a screaming gale of wind. Then, moving forward gracefully and with quickly gathering speed, the air-mail rises and is lost to view.

In the engine-car, the floor of which vibrates very slightly with the hum of the motors and the rush of themachine’s speed, stands the driver upon a raised platform. Immediately before him, as the craft rises slantingly, are the outlook windows; and convenient to hand and eye, as he looks first ahead and then back to his controls, are the wheels, levers, dials, and gauges by which he governs all the movements of his swift-flying charge. Bending forward, he moves his steering-wheel; then watches attentively the needle of the compass, which is fitted in an upright stand just before him. Then from the compass dial he turns to a map, which is stretched neatly upon a frame. Again he glances at the compass; then straightens himself and turns to speak to the mechanic. He has now adjusted the craft’s path, and she is flying accurately upon her compass course. After this, with an even, monotonous throb of sound, and a faint clamour from the wind around the hull, the craft rushes upon her way; and while the driver is absorbed upon his platform the mechanic, moving deftly here and there, tends the great, sleepily-humming motors.

Already, in the desire to build large, high-powered machines, some remarkable craft have been produced; and one of the most striking is the Sykorsky, a huge and highly successful Russian biplane. This machine has flown to a height of 3000 feet with sixteen passengers, whose combined weight was nearly a ton and a quarter. In its original form the machine had four motors, each developing 100 horse-power, which were mounted on the lower plane upon either side of the hull, one being placed behind the other and all driving independent screws. But the rear engines were afterwards brought alongside the front ones; and now, in its most recent form, the machine employs three motors, giving a totalof nearly 1000 horse-power. The craft has a metal hull, and boasts a cabin with windows.

The fitting of several motors, a principle tested in this biplane, has been shown to be practical; and it has the obvious advantage that, should one fail while in the air, the other or others will maintain a craft in flight. In such a machine as would fly the Atlantic, for example, it is proposed to fit four motors developing 800 h.p., and to carry a couple of mechanics who would constantly be tending them. Thus, should one engine develop trouble, its repair could be effected withoutdescent, and with no worse result than a temporary fall in speed. InFig. 104is shown a method by which three Gnome motors may be fitted to a biplane.

Fig. 104.—Multiple-engined craft.A. First engine (a 50-h.p. Gnome); B. Second engine (which is on the same shaft, but will run independently); C. Third Gnome engine, also an independent unit; D. Four-bladed propeller (mounted higher than the crank-shaft bearing the engines, and driven by a chain gearing).

Fig. 104.—Multiple-engined craft.

A. First engine (a 50-h.p. Gnome); B. Second engine (which is on the same shaft, but will run independently); C. Third Gnome engine, also an independent unit; D. Four-bladed propeller (mounted higher than the crank-shaft bearing the engines, and driven by a chain gearing).

First probably for mails, and after this for passenger-carrying, will aeroplanes of the future be employed; and they will find a scientific use, too, in exploring remote corners of the earth, and in passing above forests which are now impenetrable. Small, fast machines, much cheaper than those of to-day, will be bought also for private use—many of them, as suggested byFig. 105, having room for only one man within their hulls. Then there will be flying clubs; and to these, after their day’s work, will come a city’s toilers. Through the cheapening of craft, as time goes on, practically all members of the community will experience the joys of flight. Thus, say on a summer’s evening, the doors of the sheds will be pushed aside, and the machines wheeled out and overhauled; then, one by one, these small, fast-movingcraft will rise into the air and dart here and there—circling, manœuvring, dipping, and diving. So, one after another, either as pilots or passengers, will the members of the club ascend; and before the sheds are closed and the aerodrome deserted, each and all will have soared in flight, and tasted that thrill and exultation which comes of a rush in a plane through the cool of the evening air. But to-day, if we try to grasp such a notion as this, our state of mind is very like that of our grandfathers had some prophet dared tell them the day would dawn when, seated comfortably at dinner in a car on wheels, men would be drawn by an engine at 60 miles an hour: and yet the man or woman who has not, say twenty years hence, made a journey through the air, will be in exactly the same position as one who, at the present time, has never been by train.

Fig. 105.—The single-seated “air-car”—a suggested type.A. Enclosed body; B. Driver’s position; C. Steering wheel; D. Foot-controlled throttle lever for engine; E.E. The two sustaining-planes; F. The motor; G. Propeller; H. Rudder; I. Elevating-plane; J. Landing gear.

Fig. 105.—The single-seated “air-car”—a suggested type.

A. Enclosed body; B. Driver’s position; C. Steering wheel; D. Foot-controlled throttle lever for engine; E.E. The two sustaining-planes; F. The motor; G. Propeller; H. Rudder; I. Elevating-plane; J. Landing gear.

We shall, with the coming of this air age, have to alter our notions both of distance and of time. From the air-stations which will girdle London, machines will be leaving hourly upon non-stop flights. All over England, in fact, towns and cities will be linked by air. London and Manchester, for example, will be then connected by a regular service, and the journey made in less than two hours. Dotted across country, and following the track of the main airways, will be a well-planned chain of landing grounds; and here local passenger craft will descend, and goods-carrying machines pause to set down their burdens. The national air service, in all details of its operation, will need to be well organised. Towns which are upon the air routes will set aside tracts of land, and upon these will be provided the facilities of an air-station. From London to York; from London to Chester; from London to Bristol; from London toPortsmouth—thus, with their landing grounds en route, will the airways radiate. And passing constantly along these routes will be a volume of air-borne traffic—neat, privately owned planes; large and speedy passenger machines; multi-winged craft for the transport of goods; and here and there, flying swiftly and high, some slim-built war machine. Upon the land in the day-time, to indicate the direction of the airways, will be signs which may be read from high aloft; while at night, from signal towers, will flash forth lights, differing in the frequency and the colour of the beams they throw skyward, to guide the airman on his path.

In this way, and in due time, will the air yield its benefits and pleasures. It is towards this final conquest that we toil to-day—braving dangers that are deadly, overcoming difficulties that appear unsurmountable—ready to sacrifice our money and machines, and even the lives of men. And in the end, repaying us for our perils and our sorrows, the fairest of victories will be won. First Europe, and then the globe, will be linked by flight, and nations so knit together that they will grow to be next-door neighbours. This conquest of the air will prove, ultimately, to be man’s greatest and most glorious triumph. What railways have done for nations, airways will do for the world.

Morrison & Gibb Limited, Edinburgh4/15 2

[1]In addition to the work of the Wright brothers, which was carried to the triumph of actual flight—and with which we shall concern ourselves—valuable gliding tests were made in England by Filcher, and in America by Chanute.

[2]This chapter was written before the outbreak of the great war, and was intended as a forecast of aerial warfare say five or ten years hence. At the present time, seeing that gun-carrying and bomb-dropping machines are still purely experimental, it is as flying scouts, and not as instruments of destruction, that aircraft are doing their vital work.

[3]Since this list was compiled by the authorities, an additional landing area, in the neighbourhood of Folkestone, has been prescribed by law.

Transcriber's Note:The illustrations have been moved so that they do not break up paragraphs and so that they are as close as possible to the text they illustrate.Obvious spelling and punctuation errors were corrected but older spellings of words were retained as is.Internal links to the photographic plates have been provided.

Transcriber's Note:

The illustrations have been moved so that they do not break up paragraphs and so that they are as close as possible to the text they illustrate.

Obvious spelling and punctuation errors were corrected but older spellings of words were retained as is.

Internal links to the photographic plates have been provided.

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