FROM LONDON TO AUSTRALIA BY AEROPLANE 



295 



in its wake this fantastic chaos of scarred 

 mountains and gouged valleys. 



DOWN THE PERSIAN GULF TO BANDER 

 ABBAS 



In striking contrast, the shores of this 

 wild scene are washed by the stagnant 

 waters of the Persian Gulf. The color- 

 ation of this phenomenal panorama was 

 equally bewildering. The dead expanse 

 of the Persian Gulf,, mingled with the 

 mud of the rivers, was an exquisite shade 

 of green, patched here and there with 

 darker areas, where the wind had caught 

 it up into ripples. 



Mountainward, the first impression 

 was that all had been molded in yellow 

 clay. A closer survey showed streakings 

 and strata of infinite shades, of which 

 the rust color of ironstone appeared dom- 

 inant. At intervals the dry beds of 

 waterways cut well-marked defiles from 

 the high mountains to the sea. They 

 stood out like roadways winding through 

 the maze and seeming as if blasted out 

 by the hand of man. 



Throughout this terrible country I 

 scarcely observed a possible landing 

 ground, and had our engines failed us it 

 would have meant either crashing or 

 else an immersion in the Persian Gulf. 

 So it was with no small relief that I 

 brought the Vimy to a safe landing at 

 Bander Abbas, where a hearty welcome 

 was extended to us by the British Con- 

 sul, the Persian Governor, and a great 

 concourse of interested natives. 



Although dog-tired, I could not sleep 

 that night. The coming day's trip, I 

 hoped, would enable us to reach Karachi 

 in a non-stop flight of 730 miles. The 

 distance did not perturb me in the least, 

 but the treacherous country and the iso- 

 lation from civilization in case of a forced 

 landing, and another long stretch of de- 

 testable mountain-scored country was in 

 itself enough to give one a nightmare. 



The British Consul had prepared an 

 ostentatious-looking document which we 

 w r ere to carry. It commanded the mur- 

 derous tribes which infested the country 

 to treat us kindly, in case we were com- 

 pelled to land among them ! 



Fortune favored us once more with a 

 following breeze and excellent weather. 

 The country was a repetition of that 



passed over the previous day, and, with 

 the morning sunlight striking aslant, 

 heavy shadows gave the scene the sem- 

 blance of a mighty rasp. 



The engines were perfectly synchro- 

 nized, and roared away harmoniously; 

 but it is imperative for the pilot to watch 

 every part of his machine, especially the 

 engines. As I sat there hour after hour, 

 I found myself automatically perform- 

 ing the same cycle of observation over 

 and over again. 



My supreme difficulty was to keep my 

 sleep-heavy eyelids from closing and my 

 head from nodding. First of all I would 

 look at my starboard engine and see that 

 the oil-pressure gauge and revolution 

 counter w T ere registering correctly ; then 

 listen to hear if the engine- was firing 

 evenly. Next, glance over the engine 

 and oil-pipe connections and check off the 

 thermometer which indicated the water 

 temperature in the radiators. The alti- 

 meter, air-speed indicator, and petrol 

 flow indicator in turn claimed attention. 



I would then look up to the port engine 

 and go over the instruments and engine 

 as before ; then over the side to scan the 

 landscape, and ever keep an alert eye for 

 a suitable spot in case of a forced land- 

 ing. 



By the time I had completed this per- 

 formance it would be time to start all 

 over again. When flying over interest- 

 ing country the monotony of this cease- 

 less routine is relieved, but where flying 

 over country such as the present stage 

 the only mental stimulus that buoyed us 

 up was the anticipation of rosier times 

 ahead. Often our thoughts were of 

 Poulet, who was somewhere ahead, and 

 we wondered if ever we would catch up 

 with him. 



ENTERING THE AERIAL GATEWAY TO INDIA 

 AFTER A 73O-MILE FLIGHT 



Frequently we passed over small vil- 

 lages, and our advent instilled terror into 

 the inhabitants and their animals. 



For the last 100 miles we left the coast 

 and flew on a compass bearing direct for 

 Karachi, and so we entered the aerial 

 gateway to India after a non-stop flight 

 of eight and a half hours. 



The usual procedure of overhauling the 

 engines and machines and refilling our 



