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Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"Tales of Terror and Mystery"

In my anxiety to get clear, I cocked
her nose up until the automatic alarm-bell rang, and I actually
began to slide backwards. My sopped and dripping wings had made me
heavier than I thought, but presently I was in lighter cloud, and
soon had cleared the first layer. There was a second--opal-
coloured and fleecy--at a great height above my head, a white,
unbroken ceiling above, and a dark, unbroken floor below, with the
monoplane labouring upwards upon a vast spiral between them. It is
deadly lonely in these cloud-spaces. Once a great flight of some
small water-birds went past me, flying very fast to the westwards.
The quick whir of their wings and their musical cry were cheery to
my ear. I fancy that they were teal, but I am a wretched
zoologist. Now that we humans have become birds we must really
learn to know our brethren by sight.
"The wind down beneath me whirled and swayed the broad cloud-
plain. Once a great eddy formed in it, a whirlpool of vapour, and
through it, as down a funnel, I caught sight of the distant world.
A large white biplane was passing at a vast depth beneath me. I
fancy it was the morning mail service betwixt Bristol and London.


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