_Linda Takes Off_
It was Linda's custom to read the daily report of the flying weather,
and as soon as she heard the news of Bess Hulbert's take-off, she
rushed into the office to find out the conditions. It was a lovely
day, seeming to promise hours of sunshine and starlight ahead. But the
barometer was dropping, and the forecast read, "Storm over the Atlantic
tonight."
"Storm over the Atlantic!" Linda repeated with a shudder. Although she
had disliked Bess Hulbert intensely, she had never hated her with the
same violence that Louise had felt, and in the past few weeks, she had
almost come to the point where she was willing to forgive her. It was
not in Linda Carlton's nature to wish any such vengeance as the report
might indicate, even to an enemy.
Yet she would not have been human if she had not hoped that something
would happen to keep her rival from winning the honors she herself
had been working so hard to secure. Something should happen, of
course--but nothing too tragic!
All day long she went about her work in grim silence, steeling herself
to meet disappointment if Bess were finally victorious. The sun
continued to shine, and the radio brought frequent reports of the lone
flyer, sighted by ships out on the Atlantic Ocean.
Dusk set in, and then darkness, and the clouds began to gather. Until
ten o'clock that night Linda heard that the other girl was still
making progress. Then she turned off the radio and fell sound asleep,
thoroughly tired out from work and from suspense.
It was shortly after midnight that she was suddenly awakened by a loud
clap of thunder, announcing one of those freak storms that sometimes
come late in April. The wind was blowing, and the rain pouring down in
torrents. A shiver of horror ran through the girl as she peered out of
the window into the thick blackness beyond.
"Poor Bess!" she muttered. "All alone, too! Where can she be now?"
The thought came to her that perhaps she was mistaken, and her rival
was already safely beyond the storm area, at this moment pressing on
towards Paris. She smiled grimly; how foolish Louise would think her
to waste sympathy on a girl who was really a criminal!
With this thought she returned to bed, and fell asleep again, to dream
herself in an airplane, dashed into icy waters at the hand of the
storm. She awakened immediately; it was dawn and she decided to get up,
in order to hear the news of Bess Hulbert.
The moment the newspaper arrived, she opened it eagerly. "No trace of
lone girl flyer!" were the flaming headlines that met her eyes. The
paper went on to state that Bess Hulbert--a young girl of twenty-two
(she can still lie, thought Linda, knowing that Bess was at least
twenty-five) had not been sighted since ten o'clock the preceding
evening, when the storm broke.
Linda shook her head wearily, and looked out of the window. It was
still raining, with a steadiness that gave no promise of clearing in
the near future. How dismal and disheartening everything was, though
Louise would have reminded her that she had only cause for rejoicing.
As soon as she reached the ground school, she went straight to Mr.
Eckers' office. The latter had known all along that Bess Hulbert was a
competitor for the prize, but he had no idea that she had been an enemy
of Linda and Louise.
"Looks like two down, Miss Carlton," he remarked lightly, as she
entered.
"Two down?" repeated Linda. "Miss Hulbert went alone."
"I meant two defeats. The Lightcaps first, and then Miss Hulbert."
"Oh, I see. But she may get there yet. There wasn't any time limit, Mr.
Eckers, you know."
"No, but there's a limit to the gasoline she could carry. That little
boat Miss Hulbert was flying has nothing like the capacity of your
Bellanca.... No, I'm sure that storm marked the end of her flight,
although I sincerely hope that it isn't the end of Miss Hulbert. She
may have been picked up by some vessel."
"Yes, I hope so," agreed Linda. "But wasn't it hard luck for her?"
"It was only to be expected," replied the man gravely. "She must have
known that she was taking an awful chance. If it had been you who had
wanted to go at this particular time, I would have done all in my power
to keep you home, Miss Carlton--even in a Bellanca Model J!"
"I wouldn't have taken the chance myself, with that weather report,"
she assured him.
"I'm sure of that. I can't understand any sensible pilot's doing it.
She must have been in an awful hurry to beat you!"
Linda was silent, thinking what chances Bess Hulbert had taken, in
the short time since she had known her. Flying low that day she had
met her, perilously near to house-tops and children; stealing Linda's
father's business by a lie to the Convent sisters; smuggling goods
into the country; putting a leak in the gas tank of the Arrow Pursuit!
Then, most dangerous of all to herself, daring a solo flight in a small
plane, that was bought with borrowed money--and in the face of adverse
weather predictions! Yet, Linda mused grimly, when people read the
newspapers' account of Miss Hulbert's disaster, they would shake their
heads and remark how unsafe flying was! How cruel and unfair it was to
the progress of aviation!
All day long Linda worked inside of the hangar, for the storm
continued, and now and then she listened in on the radio for reports
of the missing aviatrix. By night people were giving up hope of ever
seeing Bess Hulbert again, and the evening papers spoke darkly of "One
more flyer gone to her watery grave."
There was a telegram for Linda from her aunt when she reached home,
urging her to take warning at the terrible outcome of Miss Hulbert's
attempt, and to give up her flight.
Linda drew down the corners of her mouth as she read the message.
"Of course Aunt Emily can't understand the difference between Bess
Hulbert's flight and mine," she said to herself, hopelessly. "I never
could convince her, if I tried a thousand years, because she thinks
flying is all haphazard, dependent on luck."
Nevertheless she sent a long night-letter to her aunt and another to
her father, pointing out the difference and giving her reasons for
wishing to continue with her plans.
A week passed before the storm abated and the sun shone brightly again,
but Bess Hulbert was never heard from. Perhaps the only person who
sincerely mourned her loss was Kitty Clavering, who still believed in
the girl's goodness. Even Lieutenant Hulbert had constantly lived in
fear of his sister's tendency towards dishonor and disgrace, and was
almost relieved that she could not sin any more.
Linda worked steadily on, making her preparations as before, studying
her charts, watching the weather reports, and waiting for her plane
to be delivered. The first day of May the Bellanca arrived, flown by
Myrtle Brown herself!
Linda was overjoyed both by the marvelous mono-plane and at seeing this
charming aviatrix, so capable and so well-known to everyone in the air
service. Moreover, her wishes for good luck and success to Linda in her
ocean flight were so sincere and so real that Linda felt tremendously
encouraged. It was something to have Myrtle Brown believe in her.
The Bellanca was indeed a wonderful plane. With its height of eight
feet and a half and its wing span of fifty feet, it looked like a huge
bird, strong and fearless, ready to conquer the air and the ocean.
Linda gazed at it rapturously for some minutes without speaking. Then
she began to examine it in detail.
How much more everything meant to her than when she had been presented
with her Pursuit! She looked at the metal propeller, the navigation
lights, the front and rear tanks for gasoline, and inspected the
powerful Wright J 6 three hundred h.p. nine-cylinder engine, which
had been so carefully selected and super-tested during assembly at the
Wright Aëronautical Corporation's plant. This indeed, was a marvel
of modern science, Linda thought, proud to be the possessor. And the
lubrication system, with its rocker-arm bearing from the cockpit!
But perhaps best of all were the instruments--instruments which had
been vastly improved since Lindbergh's flight in 1927, which were going
to inspire Linda with the deepest sense of confidence as she journeyed
alone over the ocean. The tachometer, or revolution counter, which
would tell her that her engine was running smoothly; the oil-pressure
gauge, the altimeter measuring the height at which she was flying, the
earth inductor compass, which would keep her true to her course--and
many others, including even a clock that would tick off the hours of
her lonely flight. It was all perfect, she thought, and the next two
days of test-flying proved that she was right. And there would be
no doubt about its ability to complete the trip, for its range was
guaranteed to be five thousand miles in forty-two hours, thus assuring
her ample time to get to Paris.
On the morning of May third, Linda said good-by to Mr. Eckers and to
her other friends at the school, and, with a promise of secrecy from
them, took off for New York. Without the slightest mishap she landed
the Bellanca at Curtis Field for another inspection, and went to her
hotel. But she was not going to call her father or her aunt on the
telephone, or even send them a wire; the longer they were unaware of
her starting, the shorter time for them to worry. It would be easier
for her too, without any touching farewells. Better to keep emotion
entirely out of the whole proposition!
The weather forecast was favorable for the following day, promising
clear weather and a warm temperature, and she was anxious to be off.
Accordingly, she awakened at dawn, and after eating a hearty breakfast,
taxied over to Roosevelt Field, where she had given instructions
for her Bellanca to be wheeled. There it stood in the brightening
daylight--beautiful and powerful, ready to do its part in the
epoch-making event. A number of pilots had gathered to speed Linda on
her way, and she smiled at them cordially.
"Everything all right?" she asked the chief inspector.
"O.K. The boat looks as if she was anxious to be off!"
"So am I!" agreed Linda, tucking her chicken sandwiches and her thermos
bottles of coffee into the cockpit. "Please start her up!"
She climbed into the plane without the slightest misgiving lest this
would be her last contact with solid earth in this world. There was no
assumed bravery on her part, for she felt sure that she was going to
reach Paris the following day.
The engine hummed smoothly, as she taxied the plane along the ground.
Then it nosed upward into the air, and she was off, waving good-by to
her companions as she flew from their sight. Linda Carlton had started
for Paris!
Along the coast she continued to Cape Cod, then across Nova Scotia. The
sun shone brightly and the engine took on speed. She passed over ice,
and through some clouds, but she did not feel the cold, for her heart
was singing with joy. Everything was going so beautifully!
As long as daylight lasted, Linda thoroughly enjoyed the flight, but
as darkness came on, a sickening sensation of loneliness overwhelmed
her. Below--yet not far below, for she was flying low enough to utilize
the cushion of air near the water's surface--stretched the vast black
ocean. Not a ship in sight; she was absolutely, utterly alone! For the
first time since her take-off, she thought of Bess Hulbert, and the
fate she had met, and a shiver went through her, making her suddenly
cold.... Her friends were so far away.... This seemed like another
world....
Desperately trying to shake off this pall that was possessing her, she
reached for the coffee, and tried to drink. But she could not swallow;
the hot liquid seemed to choke her.
Recalling a childhood habit which she had formed during illnesses, she
began to repeat hymns and poems to herself. But curiously enough, the
lines that came to her most vividly were the gruesome words of the
Ancient Mariner:
"Alone, alone, all, all alone,
Alone on a wide, wide, sea--
And never a soul took pity on
My soul in agony----"
For half an hour perhaps, even while she was busy watching her
instruments and piloting the plane, the verse kept repeating itself
over and over in her mind, holding her powerfully in its grip, until
her desolation became agony. Then she happened to look to one side,
and she suddenly saw a star, reminding her of a friendly universe and
watchful all-seeing God, and her fear vanished miraculously, as quickly
and mysteriously as it had come.
Heaving a sigh of relief, knowing that she had conquered, and that she
need not dread such an oppression again, she reached for her coffee,
and this time drank it with immense enjoyment. She ate a sandwich too,
and the meal tasted like a feast. In a few minutes she was singing
again.
Since the engine and the weather were so perfect, sleep was the only
enemy which now arose to contend with her. Bravely she fought it off,
keeping herself awake by whistling and even talking to herself.
When her little clock registered one A.M. (by New York time),
dawn began to appear; the temperature rose, and finally the sun came
out. Then all of Linda's drowsiness abruptly vanished; there was so
much to see as she flew along. Remembering the mirages she had often
read about, she was amazed to see how real they looked, when they
appeared now and then, making her almost positive that she had reached
some island, and was off her course, until she verified herself by the
chart and the compass.
Presently she sighted some ships and tried to wave to them, but she did
not get a reply. It did not occur to her that the boats were eagerly
keeping a watch for her plane; ready to report by their radios the news
of the valiant young flyer to the waiting world!
Hours later she sighted some smaller boats--fishing boats--and she knew
that she must be near to the Irish coast. Over southern Ireland she
flew, along the coast of England, following as closely as she could
the course which Lindbergh had taken. When at last she recognized the
English Channel, her heart leaped with joy. The long journey was almost
ended!
Three o'clock it was by New York time, but nine by Paris time when,
tired but smiling, she brought the Bellanca safely down at Le Bourget,
beating Lindbergh's time by a little more than an hour.
The first solo flight made by a woman across the Atlantic was
accomplished!