FEATHERING THE GOLDEN EAGLE.
Bright and early the next day the work of completing the erection of the
_Golden Eagle_ went on. The lower planes were covered and threaded on to
the frames with the same care as the covering of the upper set had been
accomplished.
The long bird-like balancing tail was then put in place and the tiller
lines—of bronze rope—threaded through guiding pulleys to its planes
which were designed to raise or lower the course of the ship when in the
air. The lateral steering was accomplished by means of double vertical
rudders of the thinnest bronze obtainable, strengthened by a triangular
frame of aluminum, and were controlled by a clever device of Frank’s
from the same wheel that adjusted the horizontal planes.
Then came the pleasant work of fitting up the car. There was a box for
Frank’s binoculars and separate compartments for each of the instruments
used in determining height and speed. Then the thermometer had to be
screwed in place and the automobile clock adjusted where the steersman
could see it. The food basket was then stocked, for Frank did not
believe in doing things by halves and he was determined that when they
quit work that night that everything about the ship should be in
ship-shape fashion and ready for flight at a moment’s notice.
In the food basket, besides the blankets and medicines already mentioned
and some folding knives and forks, the boys packed:
Four pounds of beans, a small box of hardtack, a plentiful supply of
soup and meat tablets as used by the German army and which contain a
supply of nutriment far in excess of their bulk, five pounds of bacon,
the same quantity of ham, tins of salt, pepper and seasoning, a can of
butter for special occasions and two cans of condensed milk, and five
packages of self-raising flour.
“There doesn’t look to be enough there to feed a flock of canary birds,”
remarked Billy, as he watched the stowing of the grub.
“That’s because you don’t know the exact science of modern rations,”
replied Frank, “experiments in Germany have proved that the condensed
soups and meat essences we have in that are alone capable of sustaining
life for a long period, the other things are luxuries.”
“Well, me for porterhouse steaks and food you can get your teeth into,”
replied Billy. “Count me out on this tabloid table-d’hôte idea.”
“It’s easy to see you were never cut out for an aeronaut,” laughed
Harry, “here, lay hold of this bar and make yourself useful.”
The body of the car was raised on screw-jacks, when the work of
attaching it to the planes had been completed, and the food basket
carefully slung underneath, where it was readily getatable through a
small hinged hatch in the floor of the pilot’s cockpit. Then came the
work of attaching to the bottom of the frame, and to the tail, the
wheels and spring braces which were devised to make a descent in the
airship as easy as alighting from a taxicab. The wheels were also to aid
in starting the craft.
Frank and Harry had come to the conclusion long before they finished
building the _Golden Eagle_ that they did not want to have to cart
around a runway with them to give the ship start when they wished to
make a flight, as is the case with the Wright Brothers’ machines. Their
air craft was equipped with pneumatic tired-wheels like those of a
bicycle, only several times as strong, in order to give her a good
running start when her twin propellers were started.
When they wished the _Golden Eagle_ to soar aloft from the ground, all
that was necessary to do with this equipment was to throw in a clutch
geared to the rear pair of wheels and the _Golden Eagle_, like a great
bird with her wings spread, began to glide over the ground, and in a few
seconds the pressure of the air under her curved planes gave her the
necessary lift and she shot up like a hawk, or her namesake, leaving the
eyrie.
The forward pair of wheels were movable, castor-fashion, so that when
the ship struck the ground they were free to head in any direction in
which the ship might take the earth. The rear wheels were attached to
the body of the aeroplane in the same manner, except that they had a
device connected with them which made it possible to lock them when the
operator wished to throw in the clutch that started the engine up. The
forward wheels also had a detachable steering appliance connected with
them so that in starting the machine it could be steered in any
direction the operator desired, like an automobile.
Besides these wheels the forepart of the _Golden Eagle_ possessed a pair
of inclined planes moving on an axis. To the outer ends of these planes
were attached powerful springs. The action of these planes when the
forward end of the ship struck the ground on them was of course made
free from jar by the spring attachment which acted as a sort of buffer.
The wheeled arm attached to the bird-like tail astern was geared in a
similar fashion and was designed to support this important part of the
aeroplane and protect it from damage when the _Golden Eagle_ settled.
Frank eagerly explained the uses and action of all the devices to his
father and Jimmie Blakely, the latter of whom had neglected his work
shamefully since the _Golden Eagle_ had been roosting under its
palm-thatched shed. How the ship got its name was at once apparent as
soon as the boys had completed covering its wings. The balloon silk they
used was of a rich orange hue and indeed the ship looked like nothing so
much as a great golden bird.
The last task the boys had to tackle was the delicate one of placing the
engine and its condenser in position and connecting it to the gasolene,
water and lubricating tanks. Then there was the job of putting in the
ignition apparatus and wiring it up to the spark plugs of the motor.
Frank and Harry used the jump-spark system as being both simpler and
easier to repair in time of trouble than the make and break method. The
spark for starting was obtained from batteries, but when under way the
_Golden Eagle’s_ engine was “sparked” by a magneto. Both boys always
carried a supply of extra spark plugs in case of the carbonization of
the ones already in the cylinders and they had had very little trouble
indeed with this important part of their engine, one which gives more
bother usually than any other part of the motor. The spark plugs were
hooded with waterproof caps as a precaution against short-circuiting by
rain or dampness.
The twin propellers of the Chester boys’ craft, four-bladed ones of
bronze, framed and covered with specially prepared and varnished fabric.
These frames were internally braced by specially tested steel wire and
had shown themselves in every way capable of standing the terrific
strain that 1200 revolutions a minute put on them. The shafts connecting
them with the engine were of the best Tobin bronze, a non-corrosive
material and one of the most suitable metals for the construction of
propeller shafts.
It took Frank and Harry the best part of another day to adjust the
engine to its bed and true up all its connecting parts with spirit-level
and plumb-line. This work they had to do alone as it required expert
knowledge of the most exhaustive kind.
At last, however, everything was adjusted and screwed in place in a way
to satisfy even the critical Frank, who went over every joint and
fastening with an eye that spied out immediately the slightest weakness.
When everything was announced to be complete at last, a holiday was
declared on the estancia and all hands gathered round the palm-thatched
shed to watch Frank and Harry tune up the _Golden Eagle’s_ engine.
Frank’s eyes fairly shone as he stepped lightly into the car and opened
the valve that sent a flow of life-giving gasolene along a brass tube to
the carbureters.
Before he did this, however, the hands had been busy for an hour filling
coffee bags with earth and heavy stones and piling them down on all
sides of the _Golden Eagle_. Stout stakes were also driven into the
ground and the craft securely roped to them in such a way that she could
not free herself when her propellers began to whiz round.
“Now, then, hold tight, everybody!” shouted Frank, as he “tickled” the
carbureter, and Harry threw in the switch. The Boy Aviator gave the
flywheel a light twist back against the compression—there was a loud
“bang,” that made the women shriek and the next minute the engine of the
_Golden Eagle_ was purring away as contentedly as if it had never been
separated from the craft of which it was the heart and packed up for its
long voyage.
But the natives,—where were they? With the exception of one tubby little
fellow who was sprawling on the ground and who scrambled to his feet and
made off at top speed as soon as possible, there was not one to be seen
of all the crowd that had clustered round the _Golden Eagle_ but a few
minutes before.
They had not heeded Frank’s warning cry,—somewhat naturally, not
understanding it,—and when the huge propellers began to whirl round,
creating a regular whirlwind in which hats were snatched from heads, and
dresses blown every which way, they had, with one concerted howl of
“Witchcraft,” fled to their quarters, where only a great deal of
persuasion induced them to leave.
By supper time that night, the boys were delighted to think that their
beautiful craft was ready to soar again. Everything in fact was ready
for an immediate flight. The sand-bags were removed, the ropes untied
from the stakes, and the batteries carefully seen to. It was with light
hearts that the boys hurried to the house for their evening meal. As for
Billy, he danced a sort of what he was pleased to call a “Pean of
Triumph,” round the ship. The performance of the engine and the general
trim and trig appearance of the Chester boys’ flyer had aroused him to
such a height of admiration and enthusiasm that he declared himself
quite willing to take a trip in it himself—which was “going some” for
Billy.