icable, and that its ultimate entry into the busy
life of the world is no more than a matter of perfecting details.

The first L10,000 prize was offered in November, 1906, for a flight by
aeroplane from London to Manchester in twenty-four hours, with not more
than two stoppages en route. In 1910 two competitors entered the lists
for the flight; one, an Englishman, Mr. Claude Grahame-White; the other,
a Frenchman, M. Paulhan.

Mr. Grahame-White made the first attempt, and he flew remarkably well
too, but he was forced to descend at Lichfield--about 113 miles on the
journey--owing to the high and gusty winds which prevailed in the Trent
valley. The plucky pilot intended to continue the flight early the next
morning, but during the night his biplane was blown over in a gale while
it stood in a field, and it was so badly damaged that the machine had to
be sent back to London to be repaired.

This took so long that his French rival, M. Paulhan, was able to
complete his plans and start from Hendon, on 27th April. So rapidly
had Paulhan's machine been transported from Dover, and "assembled" at
Hendon, that Mr. White, whose biplane was standing ready at Wormwood
Scrubbs, was taken by surprise when he heard that his rival had started
on the journey and "stolen a march on him", so to speak. Nothing
daunted, however, the plucky British aviator had his machine brought
out, and he went in pursuit of Paulhan late in the afternoon. When
darkness set in Mr. White had reached Roade, but the French pilot was
several miles ahead.

Now came one of the most thrilling feats in the history of aviation. Mr.
White knew that his only chance of catching Paulhan was to make a flight
in the darkness, and though this was extremely hazardous he arose from
a small field in the early morning, some hours before daybreak arrived,
and flew to the north. His friends had planned ingenious devices to
guide him on his way: thus it was proposed to send fast motor-cars,
bearing very powerful lights, along the route, and huge flares were
lighted on the railway; but the airman kept to his course chiefly by the
help of the lights from the railway stations.

Over hill and valley, forest and meadow, sleeping town and slumbering
village, the airman flew, and when dawn arrived he had nearly overhauled
his rival, who, in complete ignorance of Mr. White's daring pursuit, had
not yet started.

But now came another piece of very bad luck for the British aviator. At