FROM LONDON TO AUSTRALIA BY AEROPLANE 



305 



© Photograph by F. O. Koch 



A PRIMITIVE OIL MILE USED FOR PRESSING COCONUTS ON THE MALAY PENINSULA 



While flying along -the Malay Peninsula, the Vimy successfully outrode a monsoonal storm 

 after several narrow escapes from disaster (see text, page 315). 



the police kept back the multitude of na- 

 tives that surged around the machine. A 

 barrier was at last placed around the 

 Vimy, and soon we became the center of 

 a compact mass of peering faces, all 

 struggling to get closer and obtain a bet- 

 ter view. The elusive Poulet, we learned, 

 had moved off the same morning for 

 Akyab. 



PAST THE II ALE- WAY MARK 



That night, after the usual overhaul of 

 engines and filling up with petrol, we 

 stayed with friends and slept well. We 

 had crossed India and were now more 

 than half-way to Australia. 



Our departure next morning from Cal- 

 cutta was marked by an incident that to 

 the layman may sound insignificant, but 

 it might easily have spelled disaster to us. 

 Thousands of natives and a great many 

 distinguished white people came down to 

 see the start. The race-course is really 

 too small for a machine as large as our 

 Vimy to maneuver with safety, and I was 

 a trifle nervous about the take-off ; but 



the surface was good, our engines in fine 

 trim, and she rose like a bird. 



A NARROW ESCAPE FROM DESTRUCTION BY 

 HAWKS 



Then came our narrow escape. A 

 large number of kite hawks were flying 

 round, alarmed by the size and noise of 

 this new great bird in their midst. W 'hen 

 we had cleared the ground by about ten 

 feet two hawks flew across us at an 

 angle ; they seemed to become confused 

 and turned straight into us, one striking 

 the wing and the other flying straight 

 into the port propeller. There was a 

 crash as if a stone had hit the blade, and 

 then a scatter of feathers. 



It may not sound very dreadful — ex- 

 cept for the hawk — but as a matter of 

 fact it was a breathless, not to say a terri- 

 fying, moment, for we fully expected to 

 hear the crash of broken propeller blades. 



We were at the time flying straight for 

 the high trees, and, had the propeller 

 broken, nothing could have saved us from 

 a terrible crash. However, more hawks 

 were circling about, and in endeavoring: 



