CHAPTER XIII.
ON THE WING.
The ground Matt selected for his initial experiments lay about aquarter of a mile from the post trader's store on the road towardLallie, Minnewaukon, and Oberon. For a long distance, at this place,the road was level, flat as a board, and smooth as asphalt. It was justthe right bottom to give the a?roplane a good start on the bicyclewheels.
This part of the road, too, was free from timber, so there could be noaccidents from collisions with stationary objects.
Lieutenant Cameron had a large "A" tent brought down from the post, andpitched in a place convenient to Matt's field of operations. Here theyoung motorist and his assistants could rest, when they so desired, andmake their headquarters at all times.
Four dismounted cavalrymen were to be constantly on guard, each detailrelieving the other, morning and night.
The post farrier placed his working tools at Matt's disposal, andhammers, hatchets, and wrenches were carried down to "Camp Traquair,"as the a?roplane headquarters came to be called, and Matt set activelyto work uncrating the machine.
The two big planes of the flying machine measured thirty-two feet inlength by five in width. For convenience in packing, carrying, andstowing, these planes had been cut into halves, one half dovetailinginto the other by means of iron sockets.
In assembling the a?roplane, Matt worked from memory alone--his studyof the model serving him in good stead.
Both of the thirty-two-foot planes were put together first, and thenjoined, in a double-deck arrangement, by tough spruce rods, which heldthe planes six feet apart. The rods were further braced by wire guys,which could be tightened at will by means of turn-buckles.
For a width of about five feet the middle section of the lower planewas re?nforced with light, tough boards. This platform formed a bed forthe engine, the gasoline tank, the mechanism-operating propeller andbicycle wheels, and afforded seats for the operator and one passenger,as well as giving a rigid support for the various levers controllingmotor and rudders.
The sliding wing extensions, so necessary for keeping the machine'sequilibrium while in the air, gave Matt the most trouble of all. Theyslid on ball bearings from under each plane, and were so adjusted thatwhen one extended the other contracted in the same proportion; for, ifthere was too much air pressure under one wing, it was necessary thatthe area of that wing should be reduced, while the area of the otherwas enlarged.
The putting together of the two large planes consumed the afternoon;and when Matt, weary and tired, answered the mess call of the coloredcook sent down from the post, he was able to see that the a?roplane wasgradually taking shape.
"Looks about as much like a bird as I do," commented McGlory.
The next morning Matt went to work on the two smaller planes which,in flight, went ahead of the machine, guiding up or down, and doingsomething toward distributing the air pressure. The vertical plane,which had its place in the rear, was likewise adjusted.
So rapidly did the work proceed that, by noon, Matt was ready toinstall the motor.
Traquair, it was evident, had built the a?roplane, put it together, andadjusted every part before shipping it to Fort Totten. The result ofthis forethought was apparent in the installing of the engine. Everypiece had its place and dropped into it readily. The exact point forevery bolt and screw was marked.
By seven o'clock the second night the a?roplane was ready.
McGlory, just before he, Matt, and Ping went for their belated supper,stood in front of the forward planes.
"Every boat, pard," said he, "whether she sails the ocean or the sky,has got to have a name; therefore I, by virtue of my authority asassistant to the big high boy who is to navigate the craft, name thisa?roplane the _June Bug_."
With that, the cowboy broke a bottle of Adam's ale over the lower plane.
"No likee _June Bug_," chattered Ping. "Him velly bum name. Why you nocallee him _Fan Tan_, huh?"
"_Fan Tan!_" jeered McGlory. "Why, you squint-eyed heathen, this ship'sno gamble, but a sure thing. Remember the lines of that beautiful poem:
"The June bug has no wings at all, But it gets there just the same."
"That's good enough," laughed Matt. "I'm going to eat and turn in, forto-morrow I fly."
The motor was a four-cylinder, and Matt judged, after takingmeasurements, that it would develop about twenty-five horse power.
The next day came on with a very high wind, so high that Matt deemedit worse than foolish to attempt his first flight. It was hoped that,later in the day, the wind would go down. Time was not lost whilewaiting, however. Gasoline was secured from the fort, together witha quantity of oil, and the motor was disconnected and given its ownparticular try-out.
It worked splendidly.
Next the power was connected with the bicycle wheels, and the _JuneBug_ was sent along the road under its own power. Matt, in the driver'sseat, came very near taking a fly in spite of himself, for the wingscaught the wind and lifted the a?roplane some four feet in the air.With a twist of the lever, Matt quickly pointed the smaller planesdownward, and glided into the road again without a jar.
The wind held until nightfall, and, of course, all hope of a fly forthat day went down with the sun.
On the following morning there was hardly a breath of air stirring.All the troopers came down from the fort, and every person from theimmediate vicinity of the trader's store assembled to see how well Mattwould acquit himself of his first attempt at flight in an a?roplane.
After making sure that everything was properly adjusted and in perfectworking order, Matt had the _June Bug_ pushed to the centre of the hardroad. McGlory was stationed at one wing, and Lieutenant Cameron at theother, in order to run with the machine and help give it a start.
"Nervous, Matt?" queried Cameron, as the king of the motor boys tookhis place on the seat and lifted his feet to the foot rest.
"Not half so nervous as you are, old chap," smiled Matt. "Here, feel mypulse."
"I'll take your word for it. Don't go very high."
"So far as results are concerned, if I'm going to fall it might just aswell be from five hundred feet as from fifty. All ready?"
"All ready!"
McGlory's voice was a bit husky, for he was even more nervous thanCameron.
The engine was already humming like a swarm of bees.
"Let her go," said Matt, switching the power into the bicycle wheels.
In less than a dozen feet, the a?roplane was traveling too fast forCameron and McGlory, and they dropped out. Standing breathless wherethe _June Bug_ had left them, they watched the machine rush faster andfaster along the road, then, suddenly, swing into the air and glideupward.
Cheers rang out from half a hundred throats, only to be suddenlystifled as the great wings tilted, fifty feet above ground, into analmost vertical position. Matt, they could see, was almost hurled fromhis seat.
A groan was wrenched from Cameron's lips, and he turned away.
"Sufferin' thunderbolts, but that was close!" the lieutenant heardMcGlory mutter, and then the cheering was renewed.
Cameron looked again. The _June Bug_ had righted herself, and wasrushing off toward the lake, mounting steadily, higher and higher.
"That feller's head's level, all right," remarked Benner.
"How's that?" asked Cameron.
"Why," laughed the post trader, "if he takes a tumble he intends comin'down in the water."
"Don't you believe it!" cried McGlory. "He don't intend to take atumble. That pard of mine has his head with him, at every stage of thegame."
At the watchers judged, the _June Bug_ passed over the post some twohundred feet in the air. The contortions of the machine were alarming.First one side would tilt, and then the other. Half a dozen timesit looked as though the _June Bug_ must surely go over on its back,and come down a wreck with her intrepid young driver mangled in themachinery.
But Motor Matt, calm and clear brained, was working to "get the knack."Every second he was studying.
Not once did thoughts of a mishap flashthrough his brain.
At the end of ten minutes he returned from the lake, glided downward,and brought the bicycle wheels to a rest in the road within a hundredfeet of the place from which he had started.
His face was flushed, and his gray eyes shining as he stepped from themachine to receive the congratulations of everybody, even of the bluffpost trader.
"I'll try it again this afternoon," said Matt. "That's enough for thismorning. I want to think over my experience, and see if I can improvemy work in any particular point."
"You wabble a good deal," said Cameron.
"I won't--when I get the knack."
So that afternoon, and day after day thereafter, Motor Matt went upand practiced to acquire the "knack." Little by little it came to him,every flight teaching him something that it was necessary for him toknow.
He went up in still air, in light winds, and in breezes that made hisfriends tremble for his safety; but not once did he get a spill, notonce did anything go wrong with the machinery, and not once did he failto bring the _June Bug_ back to earth as gently and easily as he haddone on the morning of his first flight.
Greater and greater crowds assembled to witness the trials. The peoplecame from Minnewaukon, from Oberon, and from Devil's Lake City. Eventhe Indians gathered from various parts of the reservation, and gazedstolidly while "Boy-That-Flies-Like-the-Eagle"--as they calledMatt--continued to keep on the wing, and learn the knack.
As Tuesday--the day of the government test--drew nearer, the railroadsadvertised excursions, and from the Department of the Missouri camesundry men, high in the councils of the war department, to see how wellMotor Matt would meet the supreme test.
On Monday afternoon, after Matt had finished a flight during which hehad kept the _June Bug_ almost level in the air, Lieutenant Cameroncaught his hand in a convulsive grip.
"I'm ready, Matt," said he; "you've got the knack."