Far above the earth Jack and Tom could look down upon a patchwork of
villages, farms, green pastures, yellow grain fields and stretches of
woodland. They were too far up to distinguish figures, but they could
see the white steam of rushing trains along the railroad tracks, and
even catch the sound of the engines' whistles.

Beyond glinted the blue of the sea flecked with sails and with here
and there a steamer's smoke smudging the horizon. Both lads were in
high spirits. It seemed good to be navigating the air again. Every now
and then inquisitive, high-flying crows would swoop toward the machine
and then dash off again with alarmed squawks.

Although they were making a high rate of speed, they hardly seemed to
be moving as they soared in long circles. To get a sense of rapid
motion, stationary objects must be in sight. In the lonely air it was
hard to tell that they were moving at all except by looking down at
the earth which, as they rose, appeared to be rushing from them, as if
it were sinking through space.

But novel as all these sensations would be to an aërial novice, they
were an old story to the boys. Jack devoted his attention to testing a
new steering appliance he had equipped the craft with, and Tom watched
his engines with an eagle eye to detect a skip or a "knock."

"How high now?" asked the young engineer after an interval.

Jack glanced at the barograph on the dashboard in front of him.

"Three thousand feet," he said.