Tales of Terror and Mystery
The Horror of the Heights
Itwasveryclearthatmyconjecturewasright,andthatthesevast,clearbladdersweredistendedwithsomeliftinggas,forinaninstantthehuge,cloud-likebodyturnedsideways,writhingdesperatelytofinditsbalance,whilethewhitebeaksnappedandgapedinhorriblefury.ButalreadyIhadshotawayonthesteepestglidethatIdaredtoattempt,myenginestillfullon,theflyingpropellerandtheforceofgravityshootingmedownwardslikeanaerolite.FarbehindmeIsawadull,purplishsmudgegrowingswiftlysmallerandmergingintotheblueskybehindit.Iwassafeoutofthedeadlyjungleoftheouterair.
"OnceoutofdangerIthrottledmyengine,fornothingtearsamachinetopiecesquickerthanrunningonfullpowerfromaheight.Itwasaglorious,spiralvol-planefromnearlyeightmilesofaltitude—first,tothelevelofthesilvercloud-bank,thentothatofthestorm-cloudbeneathit,andfinally,inbeatingrain,tothesurfaceoftheearth.IsawtheBristolChannelbeneathmeasIbrokefromtheclouds,but,havingstillsomepetrolinmytank,IgottwentymilesinlandbeforeIfoundmyselfstrandedinafieldhalfamilefromthevillageofAshcombe.ThereIgotthreetinsofpetrolfromapassingmotor-car,andattenminutespastsixthateveningIalightedgentlyinmyownhomemeadowatDevizes,aftersuchajourneyasnomortaluponearthhaseveryettakenandlivedtotellthetale.IhaveseenthebeautyandIhaveseenthehorroroftheheights—andgreaterbeautyorgreaterhorrorthanthatisnotwithinthekenofman.