CHAPTER XI
A FLIGHT IN AN AEROPLANE WITH AN IRISH GIRL
N
Nextmorning at breakfast Miss O’Neill again asked her father’s permission to ascend in the aeroplane with Mike. I assured him that if Mike promised to go over land there was absolutely no danger, for, as I put it: “Mr. Connor can alight as easily as a crow.”
“But what if he were to alight on a tree?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye, which showed me that Mike and Miss O’Neill were going to fly together all right.
At last, the father gave his consent, but warned Mike not to go out over the sea. It was arranged that they should ascend at 10:00 o’clock.
Mike had to make a trip to Portrush to get some petrol, and he decided to take Miss O’Neill along with him on that journey.
“Can she take such a long trip on her first flight?” I asked, remembering my own experiences.
“Jack,” said Mike, confidently, “she can beat you now as an aeronaut. She knows all about it already. I am sure she will have no trouble.”
We fixed up a starting rail in the sloping field in front of the hotel, and at 10:00 o’clock Miss Edith and her father and mother appeared.
Word had gotten out about the trip and every touristaround the Causeway was gathered in the field to see the ascent.
Edith was a perfect picture. Not having an airship dress, she had arranged herself in closely fitting riding habit. She made a few necessary changes, and the dress was adapted well for her unique excursion. She wore a blue sailor cap, matching her dress, and also a pair of blue gloves.
As Mike was assisting her into the aeroplane, I heard a lady exclaim, “What a pretty blue-bird.” I could not help thinking that a fairer bird than Miss Edith never flew beneath the kindly Irish skies.
It was a perfect day, and there was a very slight breeze.
After seeing that Edith was seated, Mike vaulted easily into his seat.
“All ready,” he shouted, as he started the motor. “Good-bye,” said Edith to us all, as the aeroplane started.
It rose beautifully and after ascending about 75 feet, Mike circled around us. We could see Edith waving her handkerchief. I was surprised at her composure. After making one circle, Mike started off, like a huge bird, for Portrush. We watched the airship until it became a speck in the distance. Mr. and Mrs. O’Neill walked back with me to the hotel and I had to earnestly assure Edith’s mother that her daughter was in safe hands.
Just before noon I heard a shout, “They’re coming back.”
I rushed out of the hotel and saw the aeroplane about a half a mile off, bearing down on us with all speed. When they came nearer I saw them rise, and I knew Mike was going to circle. He went up to a height of fully 400 feet, and circled around over the hotel three times. In making the third circle, he went out far over the sea.
The descent was made without difficulty, and the aeroplane touched the ground without a perceptible jar.
Edith jumped out before Mike could descend to help her, and before I reached the aeroplane. She ran at once to her mother and kissed her.
“Edith, child,” said her mother, with tears in her eyes, “you must not go flying again.”
“Oh, Mamma,” said the happy girl, “it was grand. I never, never enjoyed anything like it.”
“You rascal,” said Mr. O’Neill, smiling, to Mike, “I thought you promised to keep off the sea.”
“I made him do it,” said Edith, hastily. “He didn’t want to, but I wanted to fly above the water.”
Mike hung his head. Mike was always proud of keeping his word. It was the atmosphere again. It changed Mike.
Edith cheered him by going to him with outstretched hand, and saying in her sweet, musical voice: “Thank you ever so much, Mr. Connor.”
Mike’s face brightened and he took off his cap gallantly, saying: “The pleasure was mine, Miss O’Neill.”
DUNLUCE CASTLE.
DUNLUCE CASTLE.
After Edith and her parents were gone I asked Mike about the flight.
“Capital, Jack, capital,” Mike said with enthusiasm, “I tell you Jack, there are few girls like Edith.”
I noticed that he had unconsciously used her first name.
He then gave me some details of the flight. On the return trip, they had paused to circle around Dunluce Castle, and then they had followed the electric railway to the Causeway. This electric railway from Portrush to the Causeway was the first electric railroad that was successfully operated in the world. It was built in 1883, being designed by Sir William Siemens. Formerly it was operated with the third rail, but now it is an overhead trolley. As they were flying along this railroad, about 40 feet high, they overtook a crowded car. When the astonished passengers saw them fly past, their enthusiasm knew no bounds. Edith enjoyed the greeting and waved her handkerchief in return.
Mike wanted to remain a few days longer at the Causeway, but when I told him that Mr. O’Neill had told me he was called back to Dublin the next day, and that his family would accompany him, he decided to start the next day himself.
As we bade the O’Neills goodbye, they gave us a cordial invitation to call on them in Dublin. I was delighted with the invitation, and so was Mike, but for a different reason. I was glad because I knew Mr. O’Neill would show us the places of historic interest inIreland’s capital city, and I was anxious to see a real Irish home. Mike confided to me that he had already arranged to take Miss Edith for a flight over Dublin.
Immediately after breakfast we started. A big crowd cheered us as the aeroplane rose. As we circled around over the crowd, I could see Miss Edith’s handkerchief waving us a farewell.
We sailed along the coast from the Causeway towards Ballycastle, 13 miles away. It was as fine a coast as I have ever seen, excepting along County Clare. We passed over several old ruins, and saw the famous Carrick-a-Rede Bridge. Carrick-a-Rede, which means the Rock in the Track, is a gigantic rock, separated from the mainland by a deep channel, sixty feet wide. Fishermen use the rock from March to October, and a bridge has been constructed of cables between the rock and the mainland. This swinging bridge is fully 80 feet above the water. As you cross it, the bridge bends and sways, but the natives cross it continually, often carrying heavy burdens.
We flew over Ballycastle, a clean-looking little fishing village, making great excitement amongst the villagers. It was nine o’clock when we sailed over the town. There is coal in this vicinity, but it has been properly worked.
In the distance we could see Fair Head towering over the Sea. Near Fair Head is Torr Head, which is only twelve and a half miles from the coast of Scotland.This is the shortest distance between the two countries. We could see the Mull of Cantyre very clearly.
After passing Ballycastle, we flew over a surprisingly beautiful region around Cushendal. Mike was now taking more interest in the Irish scenery and I remarked that he had just begun to appreciate the beauty of Ireland. We found Glen Ariff bathed in sunshine, its innumerable waterfalls glistening in the light of the sunbeams. This is a place of rare beauty. As we passed Larne we could see the excited inhabitants climbing on the walls and roofs to get a better view of the monster bird, as our airship looked to be from land.
Larne has a good harbor protected by a curious, curving headland. Mail steamers leave here for Stranraer across the channel, thirty-nine miles. The crossing is made in two hours. This is the shortest crossing between Ireland and Scotland. There is talk of running an underground railway over to Scotland from somewhere near here.
It was at Larne that Edward Bruce, a brother of the famed Robert Bruce of Scotland, landed in 1315, in an ill-fated expedition which he made to Ireland.
A little later we came to Carrickfergus, where Andrew Jackson’s father used to live. It is ten miles from Belfast, and in former years was a place of greater importance than its neighbor.
There is an old castle at Carrickfergus, built in 1178, which still defies the ravages of time. It is built on a huge rock, projecting thirty feet out of BelfastLough, and is a splendid example of a Norman fortress. There are walls in the ruins ninety feet high and nine feet thick.
WilliamIII.landed at Carrickfergus in 1690, on his way to the Battle of the Boyne.
We could now see the smoke of Belfast, the Chicago of Ireland. Overlooking it is Cave Hill, a lofty mound, back of the city. As we swept over this great metropolis, we rose to a height of 400 feet, so as to get the best possible view of the busy hive of industry. Tall chimneys sent out smoke. Huge shipyards covered acres and acres, houses extended almost as far as the eye could reach. Church spires pierced the sky in every direction.
As I looked down on Belfast that summer morning, it looked like a model city. Its magnificent business streets, and noble city hall, are in keeping with its fame and enterprise.
Passing directly over it, Mike brought the aeroplane to the ground on a level place near the foot of Cave Hill.