A HUMAN COMET.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LIV, Issue 85, 30 September 1911, Page 1 (Supplement)

A HUMAN COMET.

BI'RXIXf: TUAGEDY OF THE All!. Tlii' perils of aviation have long been a byword, but it lias remained for Paris to provide the most fearful combination of dcatli by fire while falling from an aeroplane that the world lias yet. seen. In most eases the tragedies of the air are. narrated in a few lines, and readers are expected to imagine the awful reality. The following graphic narrative of a fatality during the recent circuit of Europe, is given by the New York Tribune:—

•'Three men have gone oil' like giant birds to melt in the air that seemed to swallow them up. Three pieces of gauze rose and vanished.

"Captain Princeton 1" announces the instanter. ''Captain Prince tail!" murmur the multitude. He is one of the most courageous and capable aviators in the French Army. Me straps himself into his seat, the machine runs at terrific speed along the ground, rises gracefully up and U]>. A great roar of applause goes up from the crowd. It is a relief for them all to cheer again. And then that million of souls sicken and groan. They are horrified to see machine and aviator enveloped in flamesi They hoar a faint report, and they see a ball of lire pitch earthward. His motor has exploded, and burning benzine envelops him. At first the crowd sees only a puff of smoke trailing behind the dropping aeroplane, but as each second adds to the flaming vigor of its descent they soon see the man is fallin« and at the same' time burning in

High and far in the heavens crackles and darts and leaps the blue lightning glare of the benzine-burning demon, carrying a brave man to a hideous fate. ihc spectators break into fune!ra(li sweats. His mother .swoons. A sound like the moaning of Niagara ascends from the million to the tortured wretch, fighting the wind and flames. His fellow oflieors, through their field glasses, see him struggle to undo the strap that holds him firmly to his seat.

How the frantic man begs for mercy. He gasps for breath; lie screams aiid tears his hair. In the downrush he feels the chill of the sepulchre, and also the scorch of the burning benzine. He sees the ground as through a Hash. He was there a few moments ago. Even now it is his tomb, for in the sky he is being cremated. He holds back, all in vain; then? is no retreat.

Ihc victim's eyes arc glaring at the abyss. He shrieks again. His face is a green pallor. His terror makes him motionless and ice-cold; his burning anguish causes him to writhe.

A second ago floating victorious above Olympus! Xow suffering torments unimagined, even by Dante/as to the Seven Hells! Devils with heads of flame dance before him, singe his hair, burn his eyebrows. Vampires, ghouls, imps, snatch at his life and become meaningless spectres before his sickened brain. Diabolic. goblins grin at him—a ghastly train. J

Downward with ever-gaining speed he dives, shuddering, surrounded by a circfa of fire. Yes; that is his fate, to be burned to donth while dropping to the earth that leaps to receive his mangled body.

He hears birds. They sing as they pas* by—and he. in lids death agony, dropping to the dreadful pit. A moment ago he was flying towards the sun! There is an interval of utter insensibility. The heat increases, and once again he is conscious. The agony of his soul finds vent in an awful scream of despair.

Xo more in all its course shall he see the sun. Tile sunlight brought him joy only a few seconds ago, when he had drca.ms of love, success, fame. He hears the rumble of the groans below. The aeroplane turns turtle as it stiikes the ground. Xo need for hurry now. How fiercely and dizzily the thing turns over and over; If he is not dead by this time he has lost his reason.

The lelentlessly descending demon now i.s merely a ball of lire. The aviator has followed the road between time and eternity to a turning point. Xo more for him the song, the day. His body strikes. The flaming aeroplane lands on top of him. His friends rush forward to drag it off liini. But the tire drives them back. They arc sickened by seeing the wretched man, not yet quite dead, scraping the earth with his nails. They shout for fire extinguishers. Xone are to be found. They are forced to witness the bitter end By a superhuman effort the burning aviator rises to his knees, but at once collapses, falls prostrate on his face, and ail is over. Xo more flames now—only smoking ashes, llis soul is free to llv wherever souls do fly.