Biggles Learns To Fly

Landed - But Lost

A week later, a Rumpity landed on the aerodrome, and Captain Nerkinson swung himself to the ground. Biggles, in the front cockpit, was about to follow, but the instructor stopped him. 'You're absolutely O.K.,' he said, 'except that you are inclined to come in a bit too fast. Don't forget that. Off you go!' 

'Off I what?' echoed Biggles, refusing to believe his ears. 

'You heard me. You're as right as rain - but don't be more than ten minutes.' 

'I won't - by James I won't, you can bet your life on that!' declared Biggles emphatically. He took a last lingering survey of the aerodrome, as when a swimmer who has climbed up to the high diving-board for the first time looks down. Then, suddenly making up his mind, he thrust the throttle open with a despairing jerk and grabbed at the weird, spectacle-like arrangement that served as a joystick in the Rumpity. 

The machine leapt forward and careered wildly in a wide circle towards the distant hedge. For a moment, as the machine started to swing, Biggles thought he was going to turn a complete circle and charge the hangars; but he kept his head, and straightened it. 

The tail lifted, and he eased the joystick back gently. To his surprise the machine lifted as lightly as a feather, but the needle on the air-speed indicator ran back alarmingly. He shoved the joystick forward again with a frantic movement as he realised with an alarming shock that he had nearly stalled through climbing too quickly. Settling his nose on the horizon and holding the machine on an even keel, he soon began to gather confidence. 

A nasty "bump" over the edge of a wood brought his heart into his mouth, and he muttered 'Whoa, there!' as if he was talking to a horse. The sound of his own voice increased his confidence, so from time to time he encouraged himself with such comments as 'Steady, there! Whoa, my beauty!' and 'Easy does it!'. 

Presently it struck Biggles that it was time he started turning to complete a circuit that would bring him back to the aerodrome. He snatched a swift glance over his left shoulder, but he could not see the hangars. He turned a little farther and looked again. The aerodrome was nowhere in sight. It had disappeared as if the earth had swallowed it up. Perspiration broke out on his brow as he quickened his turn and examined every point of the compass in quick succession; but there was no aerodrome. 

It took him another few seconds to realise that this miracle had actually taken place. 'No matter,' he muttered. 'I've only got to go back the way I came and I can't miss it.' In five minutes he was looking down on country that he knew he had never seen before. His heart fluttered, and his lips turned dry as the full shock of the fact that he was completely lost struck him. Another 'plane appeared in his range of vision, seeming to drift sideways. Biggles followed it eagerly. It might not have been going to his aerodrome, but that did not matter; any aerodrome would suit him equally well. His toe slipped off the rudder bar, and he looked down to adjust it. 

When he looked up again his machine was in an almost vertical bank; he levelled out from a sickening side-slip, with beads of moisture forming inside his goggles. He pushed them up with a nervous jerk, and looked around for the other machine. It had gone. North, south, east and west he strained his eyes, but in vain. His heart sank, but he spotted a railway line and headed towards it. 'It must be the line that goes to Settling,' he thought, and he started to follow it. he was quite right - it was the line that went to Settling; but unfortunately he was going in entirely the wrong direction. 

After what seemed an eternity of time, a curious phenomenon appeared ahead. It seemed as if the land stopped short, ending abruptly in space, so to speak. He pondered it for a moment, and had just arrived at the conclusion that it was a belt of fog, when something else caught his eye, and he stared at it wonderingly. The shape seemed familiar, but for a moment or two he could not make out what it was. It looked like a ship, but how could a ship float in fog. Other small ones came into view, and at last the truth dawned upon him. He was looking at the sea. It seemed impossible. As near as he could judge, by visualising the map, the coast was at least forty miles from Settling.