thrust of the propellers and the machine starting directly
into the wind, we did not anticipate any trouble in getting up flying
speed on the 60-foot monorail track. But we did not feel certain the
operator could keep the machine balanced on the track.

When the machine had been fastened with a wire to the track, so that it
could not start until released by the operator, and the motor had been
run to make sure that it was in condition, we tossed up a coin to decide
who should have the first trial. Wilbur won. I took a position at one of
the wings, intending to help balance the machine as it ran down the
track. But when the restraining wire was slipped, the machine started
off so quickly I could stay with it only a few feet. After a 35 to
40-foot run it lifted from the rail. But it was allowed to turn up too
much. It climbed a few feet, stalled, and then settled to the ground
near the foot of the hill, 105 feet below. My stop watch showed that it
had been in the air just 3-1/2 seconds. In landing the left wing touched
first. The machine swung around, dug the skids into the sand and broke
one of them. Several other parts were also broken, but the damage to the
machine was not serious. While the test had shown nothing as to whether
the power of the motor was sufficient to keep the machine up, since the
landing was made many feet below the starting point, the experiment had
demonstrated that the method adopted for launching the machine was a
safe and practical one. On the whole, we were much pleased.

Two days were consumed in making repairs, and the machine was not ready
again till late in the afternoon of the 16th. While we had it out on the
track in front of the building, making the final adjustments, a stranger
came along. After looking at the machine a few seconds he inquired what
it was. When we told him it was a flying machine he asked whether we
intended to fly it. We said we did, as soon as we had a suitable wind.
He looked at it several minutes longer and then, wishing to be
courteous, remarked that it looked as if it would fly, if it had a
"suitable wind." We were much amused, for, no doubt, he had in mind the
recent 75-mile gale when he repeated our words, "a suitable wind!"

During the night of December 16, 1903, a strong cold wind blew from the
north. When we arose on the morning of the 17th, the puddles of water,
which had been standing about camp since the recent rains, were covered
with ice. The wind had