is to
reject the dirigible for the swifter, less costly, and more
airworthy (leave "seaworthy" to the plodding ships on old ocean's
breast) airplanes. If, however, we condone this glaring
improbability we find Mr. Kipling's tale full of action and
imaginary incident that give it an air of truth. His ship is not
docked on the ground at the tempest's mercy, but is moored high in
air to the top of a tall tower up which passengers and freight are
conveyed in elevators. His lighthouses send their beams straight up
into the sky instead of projecting them horizontally as do those
which now guard our coasts. Just why lighthouses are needed,
however, he does not explain. There are no reefs on which a packet
of the air may run, no lee shores which they must avoid. On overland
voyages guiding lights by night may be useful, as great white
direction strips laid out on the ground are even now suggested as
guides for daylight flying. But the main reliance of the airman must
be his compass. Crossing the broad oceans no lighted path is
possible, and even in a voyage from New York to Chicago, or from
London to Rome good airmanship will dictate flight at a height that
will make reliance upon natural objects as a guide perilous. The
airman has the advantage over the sailor in that he may lay his
course on leaving his port, or flying field, and pursue it straight
as an arrow to his destination. No rocks or other obstacles bar his
path, no tortuous channels must be navigated. All that can divert
him from his chosen course is a steady wind on the beam, and that
is instantly detected by his instruments and allowance made for it.
On the other hand the sailor has a certain advantage over the airman
in that his more leisurely progress allows time for the
rectification of errors in course arising from contrary currents or
winds. An error of a point, or even two, amounts to but little in a
day's steaming of perhaps four hundred miles. It can readily be
remedied, unless the ship is too near shore. But when the whole
three thousand miles of Atlantic are covered in twenty hours in the
air, the course must be right from the start and exactly adhered to,
else the passenger for New York may be set down in Florida.

It is not improbable that even before the war is over the crossing
of the Atlantic by plane will be accomplished. Certainly it will be
one of the first tasks undertaken by airmen on the return of peace.
But it is probable that the adaptatio