The wind
acted as the motive power, the bending and warping wings, and the
rudders and weights controlling its force.
"I'm going higher, and see if I can remain stationary!" yelled Tom in
Ned's ear. His chum only nodded. Mr. Damon was seated on a bench,
clinging to the sides of it as if he feared he would fall off.
Higher and higher went the Vulture, ever higher, until, all at once, Tom
pulled on another lever and she was still. There she hung in the air,
the wind rushing through her planes, but the glider herself as still and
quiet as though she rested on the ground in a calm. She hardly moved a
foot in either direction, and yet the wind, as evidenced by the
anemometer was howling along at a hundred and twenty miles an hour!
"Success!" cried Tom. "Success! Now we can lie stationary in any spot,
and spy out the land through our telescope. Now we will find the lost
platinum mine!"
"Well, I'm not deaf," responded Ned with a smile, for Tom had fairly
yelled as he had at the start, and there was no need of this now, for
though the wind blew harder than ever it was not opposed to any of the
weights or planes, and there was only a gentle humming sound as it
rushed through the open spaces of the queer craft.
Tom gave his glider other and more severe tests, and she answered every
one.
Pages:
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169