The man’s idea about steering his craft is ingenious, and seems a bit reasonable. He says that standing at this post, with his hands on the handlebars, a slight backward shift of his weight elevates his prow and makes his boat soar upward; reversing it turns the course downward. This seems like what ought to result if the boat were actually going. In the same way, tilting the craft sideways might be expected to turn its course to right or left, which Paul assures me is the fact. So we built his boat for him under his directions, and brought it along to see if there is anything to his weird story.

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When will the trial flight be made?

At the first straight, north wind. We have been waiting for that impatiently, but it’s long past due. You may have noticed that the timber runway on the jumping dune faces exactly north-well, that’s the launching device for the Albatross, not an abandoned scheme for launching gliders, as you were told. A kite rises straight up against a brisk breeze. We intend to give the Albatross every chance by launching it straight into the teeth of a north wind having velocity to sustain it.

The secret out and the north wind due at any time, Mr. Chanute decided to move the mysterious air bird up onto the starting platform and get everything ready for the test. It was heavy work, dragging the queer structure up the sandy slope. In general outline it resembled a bird with wings outspread. The wooden crate of light construction forming the cabin was shaped somewhat like a bird’s body. This frame was strengthened by wire struts in every direction. It was about 12 feet long. Two wings of 10 feet length reached out of the middle of the cabin. The wings were surfaced with muslin, varnished.

Never before had reporters been so interested in meteorological conditions. The instrument that showed wind direction and velocity was watched constantly. As all winds from the north had been quartering for weeks, the problem was, when will a straight-down north wind blow? Day after day, we waited wistfully, but it did not come. At length we relaxed, excitement gradually waned, and we stopped watching the aerometer. The press boys were going back to town more often and staying longer, keeping contact with the weatherman in Auditorium Tower, who promised he would notify their offices when the right wind came.

The third Saturday morning, when novelty had worn off, the Albatross and the press agreed that the north wind could go to hell, the reporters except myself went home for Sunday. Operators were expecting to go, too, but before they got away in the afternoon there was some change in conditions, and Mr. Chanute canceled leaves of absence. On going away that morning, Hemingway called back to me, If the wind gets just right, we’ll be down at the station to meet you when the evening train comes in, and get the story. This was his idea, not mine, and I made no reply. My hunch was that if anything good really happened, the Tribune might get a scoop. Working personnel were reduced by the press leaving, but Mr. Chanute still had his regular staff with one extra.

Sunday morning the unexpected happened. A brisk, steady wind sprang up from due north, giving just the conditions that had been waited for. At breakfast coffee, Mr. Chanute said the bird ship would be launched just as soon as we could make ready. He wanted to take advantage of the wind before it shifted. Everybody but Skipper Paul seemed tense and excited. The ways were greased to make the ship’s slide-off easy; guy ropes reached down from the machine to stakes driven in the beach to keep the ship from flying away prematurely; and all took assigned stations. Mine was at a stake on the beach. If Mr. Chanute called out Hold it! I was to take a hitch with my rope around the stake and bring the ship down in shallow water.

It seemed to be feared that if the boat soared out to sea and crashed in deep water, Skipper Paul would be drowned; but if the drop occurred in shallow water, we could jump in and pull him out of his trap. So, despite all skepticism, the work was laid out on the assumption that the boat might fly.

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