IN MID-AIR.

Southern Cross, Volume 1, Issue 50, 10 March 1894, Page 4

IN MID-AIR.

A CHAT WITH A LADY PARACHUTIST.

There are parachutists and parachutists, but few are privileged to live long. At the best of times the “ ascensionist ” holds his life in his own hand, and regards himself as fortunate should he escape serious accident. But the occupation is by no means limited to men, as the visitor to the “Welsh Harp ’ —“which is ’Eodon way” —or to any other popular resort will know. Indeed, it might be safely said that a woman takes to the profession of a parachutist even more readily than a man. At any rate, judging by the daring manner in -which some lady aeronauts perform, this would appear to be the case.

“ I don’t know,” said Madame Crawford, a well-known parachutist, to an interviewer lately, “ what impelled me to become an aeronaut. Just my uncontrollable passion fox* adventure, I suppose,” she added, laughingly. “It was two years ago when the desire seized me, and I haven’t rid myself of it yet. Since then I have made 109 ascensions, have had three ribs broken, and my spine injured. At one town where I appeared my parachute became cranky when I had cut myself loose 8000 feet up above the earth, and it was a -wonder I wasn’t killed. I sailed down easily enough for the first 6000 feet, but at 2,000 feet I struck a swift counter current of air which twisted the parachute around rapidly, and plunged the top down so that I only prevented it from, turning inside out with the greatest difficulty. I knew that 1 'was in danger, but my presence of mind never left me for an instant.” “ And then ” “ When about 70 feet from the oround another gust of wind overpowered me, and turned the parachute completely inside out. The ropes got tangled with my feet, jerked my hold loose from the bar, and I plunged violently downwards. I saw a huge tree directly under me, aixd I reached out my hands to catch a limb, but I missed it, and struck the ground fairly on my feet, fell over, and fainted away.” “ What does it require to become an aeronaut V” “ Well, the only thing I can think of is nerve. I have never yet had that feeling called fear. I wish I could experience it once; it would be such an entirely new sensation to mo. With nerve and a cool head, which always go together*, anyone can be an aeronaut and parachute jumper. Oh no ; I am not afraid of being killed. W hat if others in the business have had the life crushed out of them ? That’s no sign that I’ll meet with the same fate. I have made up my mind that if ever I feel the least apprehensive of the result, I will never go up in a ballcom no matter if a million people are waiting for me. That’s the way 1 shall keep from getting killed. I have never male an ascension lets than 5,000 ft. Eight thousand is the average, and I’ve gone as high as 12,000 ft. I use only the hot-air balloon. It takes me up faster than the average train runs along the earth. The sensations I experience' while I am going up are nothing like those I experience whilst coming down. I travel faster on the descent. A mile a minute is slower than I shoot downward through the air. In ascending*, the balloon continuously whirls like a top. It’s calculated to make one dizzy, but the scenes shift with such lightning-like rapidity that I haven’t time to allow my brain to get a-spinning. “ When I lose sight of the earth, even with the aid of my telescope, I know I am quite 7,000 ft. up. The air is ciisp and chill, and my ears and fingers tingle with the cold. lire rose I wear at my throat is chilled and frozen now, and its petals warp. But still the balloon is whirling me higher. The air is so thin that I breathe with difficulty. Through a

dense cloud I am jerked, and come out drenched and numbed. Nine thousand feet, and the air in my balloon is chilled. A lurch downward, and a tremendous flap of the monster canvas tells me that it is time to cut the rope that binds my parachute to the balloon. But a hurried look around warns me that there is danger. The rope is all twisted and twirled, and the parachute is tied in a knot. lamin a counter-current of air. The wind is blowing a tornado, and if I loosen the rope now the sides of my parachute would be slammed together, so that I could never open them, and I should drop to the earth like a bar of lead. Once past the wind lam safe. Then I cut the rope and shoot downward like an arrow for several hundred feet. “ The swift motion accumulates sufficient air under the folds of my parachute to spread it open like an umbrella, and I have smooth, though swift sailing for the rest of the way. But I go so fast that I am afraid to open my mouth for fear the wind will take my breath away. I have my teeth closed tightly on a little stick smaller than a pencil. Somehow, this stick helps me to keep my mouth shut tio-lrt. lam hardly ever more than a minute c.omin g down. When tire air tells me that I am getting near tire earth, I open ury eyes to look around. I have the parachute under perfect control, and if I see I am about to descend on a tree or roof, I direct the parachute around it. When 200 or 800 feet from the ground, I swing from the cross-bar by my hands in order that I may alight on my feet. “ No. I have known very few aeronauts,” said Madame Crawford, “ I have never met a woman in the business, and only hear of them when they get killed by a parachute leap. The 4 Lady in Gray ’ as she called herself, was killed last August while making a parachute descent; while a lady named Madame Rose met her death at Cincinnati on July 4 last. ‘ Tire Queen Over All Birds ’ —what a funny name —dropped into the middle of a lake in United States last summer, aad hasn’t been seen since ” —Selected