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!'* 



