AVIATORS 177 



Michelet, in speaking of one of these aviators, 

 said: "It is the little ocean eagle, first and chief of 

 the winged race, the daring navigator who never 

 furls his sails, the lord of the tempest, the scorner 

 of all peril — the man-of-war or frigate-bird. . . . 

 (He) is virtually nothing more than wings: 

 scarcely any body — barely as large as that of the 

 domestic cock — while his prodigious pinions are fif- 

 teen feet in span. The great problem of flight is 

 solved and overpassed, for the power of flight seems 

 useless. Such a bird, naturally sustained by such 

 supports, need but allow himself to be borne along. 

 The storm bursts ; he mounts to lofty heights, where 

 he finds tranquillity . . . literally, he sleeps upon 

 the storm. When he chooses to oar his way seri- 

 ously, all distance vanishes: he breakfasts at the 

 Senegal; he dines in America." 



This marvellous aviator travels day and night 

 without apparent weariness. He seems to rest 

 upon the winds, fearing nothing, not even the 

 tyrants of the air — the condors and pygargues! 

 Thus we see this huge airship floating in the heav- 

 ens, while far below him are the snow-white sea 

 swallows playing in the waves. And one is re- 

 minded of the poet's words : 



"Wings to soar above life; 

 Wings to soar beyond death!" 



