10 
LAND & WATER 
July 26, 1917 
faster. Bnt before I can anticipate it the wheels leave the 
ground. They rise a few feet above, then move straight 
ahead, as if hesitatii'ig to go higher, until suddenly the nose 
points upwards and the enormous thing climbs steadily and 
rapidly on a long curve. 
The weather was not agreeable. It was unsteadily windy 
Rain clouds hung low, occasionally sprinkling the ground 
with cold drizzle. All blue sky was hidden by high altitude 
clouds above which were probably more. It was black in the 
north-east, like a threatening storm. The wind was now twelve 
miles, now twenty an hour, I guessed. There were no machines 
in the air. 
At luncheon before the start, I had asked :■ " What would 
you do if we met a Hun up there in the ten-thousand foot 
level ? " ■ ^ 
" Dive," answered Protlger, " and as quickly as possible." 
You mean to say that you go out unarmed ? " 
" We took gunners with us the last time, but we don't 
need them to-day. There won't be any Han machines over 
in weather like this." And I thought no more about it until 
later when we were well above the third strata of clouds. 
They offered me the seat of honour, the gun ring at the very 
nose of the fuselage in front of tlie pilot and the Naval Air 
Service officer acting as official observer of the tests. Or 
I could sit in the wireless and bomb-dropping room behind 
the pilot, where, entirely enclosed and comfortable, my 
vision would be limited to the ground below and horizontal 
glimpses through small windows. The after-gunner's position 
was highly recommended, and I took that. An officer climbed 
in after me through the large gun opening, and we mounted 
to what is called " the rack," a latticed floor above the main 
lattice, through which one has a direct down view of the 
earth's surface. Standing on the rack with the top of the 
fuselage under my elbows, I saw, looking forward, the head 
and shoulders of the pilot and observer, and another head in 
the gun ring beyond. Looking back, was the tail, with the 
rudders and elevators seeming very far away. Prodger 
raised his hand, the motors roared, and we raced across the 
field with very little jarring. That ceased entirely as the 
wheels left the ground and we mounted skyward. 
Prodger, anxious to better the record time for the 10,000 
foot climb, held the biplane's nose up to the limit. That made 
the big " bus " move through the air at about one-third les^ 
speed than could be attained on the level. Consequently 
the bumpy air was felt even in this huge craft. Bumps 
cause the machine to drop suddenly a few feet, which would 
be very disagreeable to anyone who was not sure that it was 
not any more dangerous than .the swells at sea are to a good 
ship. The higher the speed of the aeroplane the less all air 
disturbances are felt. 
Without knowing it we pass through the moving rain clouds 
at 1,200 feet, and at 1,800 look down on them. Tliey are 
so light that they barely obstruct the view of the country, 
which begins to appear Lilliputian. Above are heavier clouds, 
still hiding the sun. 
Tired of standing, I go below and get out of the rush of air. 
After amusing myself with the inter-communicating tele- 
phone, checking up our altitude barometer with the'better 
instrument forward, I look about. It is a comfortable interior 
— comfortable except for these slats of a floor with an inch of 
open space between them, thrbugh which earth recalls its 
distant presence, and filmy rain clouds slip by. 
In front of me is a magazine of " dummy " bombs, ready 
in their traps. What an array of power to wipe out the forces 
that make it possible for the enemy to continue to carry out 
that plan of subjugation, which already has caused so much 
misery in the world ! I could crawl by these projectiles, into 
the stations forward,the wireless and bomb-dropping positions, 
to the pilot's and observer's seat and tlie gunner's round hole 
in the nose of the fuselage. But I content myself with look- 
ing, watching the pilot's feet on the rudder bar, and his 
elbows as he actuates the wheel that controls the ailerons for 
lateral stability and the wheel post which keeps the elevator , 
set at the best climbing angle our mighty engines permit. 
But to see movement I must watch closely, for there is very 
little, only fraction^ of inches. 
I walk about this space, on the floor of slats, and inspect 
the various devices that Britaiai's skill has devised to compete 
with the ruthlessness of the enemy. Finally, mv companion 
comes down and we shoiit inlK each other's leather-sheathed 
ears, one observation or another, and finally seat ourselves 
on the rack, while the engines roar and the air rushes by 
overhead. 
" We could play cards, here, if we had any," he shouts and 
signs to me. But as we have none I take out a notebook, and 
demand the altitude. 
" Seven thousand five hundred feet," he signals back. So 
I record as follows : 
" On board His Majesty's Royal Naval Air Ser\Mce plane 
No. X. Some where over England at 7,500 feet, June 25th, 
1.15 p.m. Both engines turning nicely. Slight bump now 
and then as we mount, but steady on the whole. We are still 
on the Way to 10,000 feet for altitude. Clouds above and 
below." 
Yes, looking down through the photographic slots in front 
of me, I see only the white down of clouds; above through 
the aperture in the fuselage, the same. Then I climb back 
to the rack, and standing, peer over our sides. 
In every direction clouds. Thi'ough those that are above 
the sun is just visible, a round white ball. But enough light 
filters through to illuminate the soap-suddy, cotton-like billows 
below. The wind cuts like a winter hurricane. 
Below again., this time on thejrack, where I lie down on my 
side, and. resting in comfort, watch the view from the window 
opposite. Aftei*a while I lower the unbreakable glass, but 
the air is too cold, and it soon goes up again. 
Before I had looked down on gas tanks and factories as we 
passed over them, thinking how pimple it would be to release 
those bombs and how difficult to miss such enormous targets. 
But now the comfort of the thing comes over me, and I 
irnagine this same type of aeroplane after the war, on peaceful 
mission between continental cities. Instead of those bombs 
there will be room for more passengers, and the rack instead 
of being open to. show the ground will be solid to lend con- 
fidence to the passenger. There will be a sort of promenade 
deck from the control room forward to some point aft of the 
present after-gunners' position, and below it seats or berths 
for passengers, who may enjoy the view, as 1 do now, through 
side windows all along the fuselage. Then — bang ! 
Like a small cannon firing close at hand comes this un- 
nerving sound followed by others ; one side, then another at 
unequal mtervals. Quickly I notice that we are pointing 
steeply down, that the motors are barely turning over. It 
was exactly what Prodger said would happen in case we met 
an enemy in the air. 
So I ciimb to my feet while the fusilade continues. Bnt 
before there is time to look about in search of an attacking 
Hun. I realise that the noise comes from the motors, which 
continue to fire spasmodically even after the ignition has 
been cut off. We have attained 10,000 feet and are on the 
way back to the aerodrome. 
The air rushes by witli new speed as, we ghde down from 
10,000 to 6,000 feel in a few minutes, and there is so little 
n )ise that my companion and I converse without difficultv- 
there is only the grinding of the gears and the singing of the 
wind in the wires. At 0,ooo feet we are able to see much 
of the surrounding country again. Prodger gets his bearings 
and heads across country on a slight decline, now flying on one 
motor, now on the other, and then again on both, to show how 
easily it can be done. 
Not very long after I jiear, " There's the aerodrome."* We 
go down steeply with the motors barely turning and bank up 
on a steep angle, like a small machine, to land at the right 
spot, slip over a moving railway train not thirty feet below 
and touch the turf as lightly as any aeroplane can, about one 
hour after the start. 
" How do you like it ? " some one asked. 
" That," I remarked, "is the longest-range, highest calibre 
artillery piece in existence, and I am vefy proud to have 
made its close acquaintance ; for surely it is gohig to do 
much to win the war." 
This articU is copi/right in the V.S.A. by the " Chicago Daily N«U>| ' 
The following lines (which are copvright) were specially \vrif tea 
by Mr. Rudyard Kiphng to help Iving's College Hospital Den- 
mark Hill ; at the present time it is greatly in need of funds : 
Our cliildrcn give Dicmsclves that we may live 
Unhurt behind the thunder of the guns. 
Is It so great a thing that we should give 
u\ Httle from our store to serve our, sons ? 
, The Nakedness of the Land, by Mr. A. H. Savory (B. H Black- 
well-, Oxford, is. 6d. net), is a concise statement by a writer 
who has had 28 years' experience of farming both as "owner and 
occupier. Crammed with facts and conclusions, and most of 
the latter will be generally accepted by those competent to 
judge them. The burden of his text is illustrated by the very 
true couplet, quoted on page 3 : 1 y 
To make a pa.sture will break a man. 
But to break a pasture will make a man. 
This, of course, was said when cereals were making remunerative 
prices sav 25 or 50 years ago. It will remain true so long as wheat 
IS not below 60s. a quarter ; but the Government wh5 are now 
trying to induce farmjrs to break pastures by proposing a 
f^i'he .'ci,''' f '^''"7 """*"'' P^"°d) ^\^ offeVing'^a premium 
to the scamp f^irmer by proposing to paV that guarantee— il 
any be payable— per acre instead of per quarter. To break up 
pasture, torun it for t.vo or three years, and then to retire wiU 
be a most profitable business. Such men will " make," but their 
successors will be broken. This is a useful little brochure to 
recommend to your tounrsfdk friends. 
