I L B U R Wrightwas the idol ofFrance. The incom-prehensible Ameri-can had been popu-larly described as a

"bluffeur" when he invaded the land ofthe Gaul with his crudely constructedflyer and his unmechanical looking mo-tor. But the stranger proved his worthso thoroughly as to arouse the enthusi-asm of the Frenchmen to such a pitchthat they could see no good in their ownaviators.

An act of daring was needed to provethat the Frenchman was not three years

behind the American. It must be morethan an ordinary flight over a preparedground and under ideal weather condi-tions. It must be that sort of daringthat the French denominate "culot"—acombination of cheek and pure dare-deviltry.

Henry Farman decided to provide itwhen he gave the order to MarcelHerbster, his faithful mechanic, to veri-fy motor and aëroplane with more thanusual care. There was suppressed ex-citement among the knot of peoplegathered around his Voisin biplanestanding on a corner of the aviationground at Châlons-sur-Marne, for the

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WILBUR WRIGHT FLYING WITH A PASSENGER OVER THE MOORLAND NEAR PAU.

Illustrated with Photographs

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PAULHAN FLYING FROM MOURMELON TO CHALONS-

SUR-MARNE.

rumor had leaked out that somethingsensational was about to happen.

The usual pull on the propeller anda run over the ground with the soundof the motor growing less and less wasfollowed by the gradual rising of theaëroplane and the cessation of the sus-pense which always accompanies thestart of a flight. Instead of skimmingpartridge-like, Farman quickly rose to alevel with the tops of the tall poplartrees lining the course, then still higheruntil he was far above the monumenton the high ground at the opposite endof the field. Then he disappeared, es-caping from the narrow limits of theaërodrome like a huge bird that has atlast realized the full power of its wings.

The first cross-country flight had be-gun. It ended half an hour later whenthe big machine fluttered down upon a

vast plain on the outskirtsof the city of Rheims, af-ter covering twenty milesabove the tree tops, vil-lages, streams, highroads,railways, and other nat-

ural and artificial ob-structions. France wasamazed, for until then thepilots of artificial birdshad considered an aviarynecessary for their evolu-tions. Their aëroplaneshad been built for the up-per regions, but until thathour not even the best ofthem had dared to escapebeyond the limits of anunobstructed plain or asandy military drill groundupon which they could de-scend at the slightest signof danger.

Farman's exploit broughtrenewed hope to theFrench school. WilburWright was taken off thepedestal and the Anglo-Frenchman put in hisplace. But behind all thepopular applause the voiceof the scientific expertcould be heard in disap-proval. Even Farman ad-mitted that it was a terri-

ble moment when he found himselfabove the tall poplar trees and wonderedif he would clear them.

The following day, in another partof France, Louis Bleriot broke awayfrom the restraining aviation groundand attempted a free flight over hilland valley. But the echoes of the Far-man flight were still too loud for muchattention to be paid to the Bleriot ex-ploit, and though the most persistentand coolly daring aviator in France hadtraveled twenty-one miles, starting fromhis garage and returning there, aftertwo voluntary stops, without any out-side assistance, he did not receive all thecredit to which he was fully entitledfor his exploit.

It is to Henry Farman, then, thatthe honor must be awarded for givingthe aëroplane its true application. But

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for his daring exploit aviators mightstill have been rolling the ground be-fore attempting to fly over it, and theartificial bird might still have had thesame relation to the natural bird as theriver boat has to the ocean-going yacht.When aviators had secured sufficientconfidence in their mounts to soar awayunfettered by any ties to Mother Earth,the flying machine became a practicalinstrument. Incidentally, the show-man's business received a severe blow,for how could he secure spectators ifhis birds were likely at any minute toescape from the boundaries he hadtraced for them, or to rise so high inthe air that penniless Peter outsidewould have as clear a view as thegrand-stand occupant within?

Less than six months after the firstfree flight it became evi-dent that aërodromes wereuseless except for learnersand as starting and land-ing grounds. This wasnever more clearly provedthan on the day whenCount de Lambert rosefrom the aërodrome at Ju-visy, a few miles to thesouth of Paris, and afterencircling the field twice,disappeared from the viewof the spectators who hadpaid to see flights. Whilethe grand stand saw anaëroplane rise from theground, disappear behindthe hill, then return andsettle down quietly afteran absence of about onehour, the Parisian, merelyby coming to his door,could enjoy the thrillingsight of an aëroplane soar-ing round the Eiffel tower,the highest monument inthe world, at a height ofa quarter of a mile fromthe ground.

The cool audacity of aman who would dare tofly over one of the mostcrowded cities in theworld, to rise to a heightthat had never before

LOUIS BLERIOT CROSSING THE CHANNEL FROM FRANCE

TO ENGLAND.

been attained by a power-driven ma-chine, held the spectators spellbound,too astounded to cheer, too amazed toutter more than wordless exclamations.

In addition to Farman, Bleriot, andDe Lambert, there are not more thanhalf a dozen others who have as yetmade free flights over land and water.Hubert Latham has to his credit twoattempts to fly across the twenty-onemiles of salt water separating Francefrom England. Three weeks had beenspent in waiting for a calm that thenatives declared would never come.From an hour before daybreak to thehour of sunset the tricolor flag had beenwatched in the hope that it would falllimp and lifeless.

At last, in the early hours of a Ju lymorning, the standing corn ceased to

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bend its head before the breeze, and ina few minutes a well-prepared white-winged flyer had soared above theFrench cliffs and for the first time inthe history of man was speeding abovethe open sea. Half the distance hadbeen covered when a mechanical defect—a mere trifle that would have delayedan automobile but a few seconds—

to a shooting party on his estate six-teen miles away.

"Come on your aëroplane," laughing-ly added the marquis.

"I will," replied Latham.And he kept his word. A rifle and

cartridges were placed in the boat-likebody of the flyer, Latham mounted,started the engine, rose from the ground,

COMTE DE LAMBERT CIRCLING THE EIFFEL TOWER.

caused the engine to stop and allowedthe aëroplane to glide into the sea.

Then Bleriot appeared, made hispreparations quietly, took advantage ofa calm moment, flew over the Channel,and landed safely in England. Un-daunted, Latham made another attemptto fly to the English coast, but wasagain stopped when within one hundredyards of the shore.

Hubert Latham, if he failed to flythe Channel, has the honor of beingthe first man to keep an appointmentby aëroplane. He was at Châlons, test-ing new machines and training pupils,when Marquis de Polignac invited him

and directed the nose of his aëroplanein the direction of the shooting lodgesixteen miles to windward. When aservant announced that a flying ma-chine was in sight, the guests rushed outin excitement, the marquis with a smileon his face, for he knew that his in-vitation had been accepted. After a suc-cessful day's shooting, Latham placedthe game in the body of the aëroplane,mounted, and disappeared with a waveof his hand, landing twenty minuteslater at the door of his shed after pass-ing directly over the roof of his ownhotel.

Louis Paulhan is another daring

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SANTOS-DUMONT ON A CROSS COUNTRY FLIGHT WITH HIS LITTLE "DEMOISELLE."

cross-country flyer, who is naturally asmuch at home in the air as is a sailor atsea. He and Latham are rivals. Theyare of the same age, their sheds are onlya few yards apart, both commenced tofly at the same period, and both are un-usually skilled. Paulhan, an ordinarymechanic who would have remained un-known but for the aëroplane, graduatedin the dirigible balloon service. Froma youth he was connected with airships;even when he accomplished his com-pulsory military service, he was in thedirigible balloon corps.

He built a model aëroplane and waslater provided with a man-carrying fly-er. From the first he showed a pref-erence for high altitudes. When flyingbefore the president of the republic atJuvisy in the late fall of 1909, he brokeaway from the aërodrome, flew over theSeine, the highroads packed with auto-mobiles, and the market gardens. Thenhe returned and landed within a fewfeet of the presidential box.

Later he made a trip from the avia-tion ground of Châlons to the military

town of the same name, eighteen milesaway. There was a strong breeze be-hind him when he started, making pos-sible a speed of sixty miles an hour, atwhich rate the automobiles, obliged tofollow the sinuosities of the road, wereunable to follow. A circuit of the townwas made, thus giving an object lessonto the military occupants of the easewith which all their fortifications couldhave been discovered and their planslaid bare. The return was a beat towindward, with the aëroplane obligedto tack like a sailing ship, while the ac-companying automobiles rushed aheadand won the race home.

The future doubtless reserves curi-ous adventures for those who travel byair. This was shown by an incidentwhich occurred to Santos-Dumont. Hehad started a little before nightfall andwhile a storm was brewing. Withoutany well-defined object in view, he lethis aëroplane carry him where it willed,only to awake suddenly to the fact thathe had lost his bearings.

As there was a large forest ahead and

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the gathering storm was behind him, hedecided to land on the lawn of a coun-try residence near at hand. The ladyof the house and her daughter urged theunexpected visitor to take dinner andpass the night at the chateau. Whilethe meal was in progress, an automo-bile drove up to the door, and a youngman jumped out and rushed into thehouse with the news that Santos-Du-mont had set out on a flight and neverreturned.

"Allow me to present him to you,"replied his mother.

Newspaper men and intimate friendsspent half the night scouring the coun-try for the lost aviator. Next morningSantos-Dumont drove back to his shedwith his aëroplane attached to the rearof his host's automobile.

Maurice Farman, brother of the bet-ter known Henry, is proud of the factthat he has never made a flight exceptover open country; he is still prouderof the fact that he holds the world'slong-distance cross-country record for ajourney from his shed at Buc, ten milesfrom Paris, to the town of Chartres.The distance is forty-four miles, whichwere covered in fifty-nine minutes, atan average height of about three hun-dred feet. On the whole, the countryis level, with the exception of a portionat the outset and another part nearChartres, where a deep valley has to becrossed.

On the trip Farman guided himselfby the main road and the railway linefrom Paris to Bordeaux. As he spedalong in a southwesterly direction hewas clearly visible to the occupants ofthe trains.

In all probability Farman will con-tinue his southwesterly flight in stagesas far as Bordeaux, 350 miles fromParis. There is a fascination about aflight to the capital of the wine coun-try, for it is over this route that theearly bicycle and automobile races wereheld. Farman himself, in the dayswhen he was a cyclist, riding tandemwith his brother Henry, and later whenhe drove powerful automobiles, hasmany a time raced over the smoothroads from Paris to Bordeaux.

Already one of the greatest difficul-

ties of the cross-country flyer is in find-ing his course. It will be necessary tocultivate a homing instinct, or, better,as is already being done in France, toerect conspicuous landmarks and estab-lish landing grounds for the benefit oftravelers in the air. Louis Paulhan hashad to abandon his projected flight inEngland from London to Manchester,owing to the impossibility of finding hisway through the air of the fog-boundcountry.

Count de Lambert, although he hadstudied his course thoroughly, was indifficulties for a few seconds after hehad rounded the Eiffel tower and foundhimself over Paris and desirous of re-turning to his garage at Juvisy. Bleri-ot says that he was completely lost fora few seconds during his cross-channelflight, for he had shot ahead of the de-stroyer, and yet was not near enoughto the English coast to see it. In orderto pick up his bearings he had to de-scribe a huge circle in midchannel, outof sight of any land, until the destroy-er arrived and showed him the courseto follow.

Although the first instances of cross-country flying have taken place inFrance, the most notable instance offree flight in America being that ofWilbur Wright up the Hudson at thetime of the Hudson-Fulton celebration,it is likely that its greatest developmentwill be in such countries as the UnitedStates. The vast tracts of open coun-try remove all danger in case of an en-forced landing. The greater the dis-tance, too, the greater the utility of theaëroplane. As speed is likely to in-crease enormously, transcontinental andother long-distance trips will be under-taken by the aërial way when time isof value.

France intends that the year 1910shall be one of cross-country flights.An aëroplane race from Paris to Brus-sels, a distance of two hundred miles,is being planned and the English Chan-nel will doubtless be crossed severaltimes during the year. Several aviatorshope to fly from the capital to Bor-deaux, and numerous trips along theshores of the Mediterranean are pro-jected.

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