The Boy with the U. S. Weather Men Part 21

"A trifle over thirty-six feet, sir," he said. "I can give you the fractions, if you like."

"No, that's near enough," said the Forecaster. "Thirty-six feet of sail area in a fourteen mile wind will lift nearly twenty pounds of wire and, probably, will have a pull of about sixty pounds. I don't think you'd care to stand a sixty-pound drag very long, Monroe. We'll let our new reel do the work."

"About how high could we make this kite go, sir?" asked Tom. "Does that depend on the wind?"

"No," the Forecaster answered, "it depends on the sail area of the kite and the weight of the wire. Ten square feet of sail area will lift three pounds or, a thousand feet of wire. There are over five thousand feet to a mile, and a kite usually ascends at about an angle of forty-five degrees. So, if you allow for sag and so forth, you'd have to put out eight or nine thousand feet of wire to reach a mile, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," said Tom, "I guess that's how it would go."

"It's an awful lot of line," commented Fred.

"Therefore," said the Forecaster, "if ten square feet will lift a thousand feet of wire, for eight thousand feet, you'd need eighty square feet of sail area."

"Then even the two of these together aren't big enough to go up a mile!"

cried Tom.

"A mile is pretty high, my boy," said the Forecaster; "you've never seen a kite go up a quarter as far."

"What's the highest flight that ever was made?" queried Tom.

"America holds the World's Record," was the answer. "The United States Weather Bureau sent up a string of kites at Mount Weather, in Virginia, that ascended higher than four miles and a quarter, 21,385 feet above the reel, to be exact."

"How many kites did they use?" Tom asked.

"Eight," the Forecaster answered, "with a lifting surface of five hundred and forty-four square feet of sail area. There wouldn't have been much chance for you, Monroe, if you'd tried to hold that bunch in your hand. The kites would have picked you off the ground and whisked away with you like a piece of rag tied to the tail of a j.a.panese kite.

There," he concluded as he stepped back, "I think we're ready now. Tom, how's the wind?"

The official wind-measurer ran up the ladder to his dial, calculated rapidly and answered:

"Freshening, sir. It's about seventeen miles an hour, now."

"That's all right," the weather expert declared. "Tom, you start her off."

"What do I do, sir?" asked the boy.

"Just toss the kite in the air," the Forecaster answered.

"Don't I have to run with it?"

"Not a step, except when the wind is very light. Off with you!"

Tom carried the kite about a hundred feet, the line paying out as he went, and waited the word. The boys cl.u.s.tered around the reel excitedly.

Monroe went along with Tom. Rex also wanted to follow, but as Ross was afraid that he might jump at the kite and tear it with his teeth, though in play, he called the terrier back.

"Ross," then said the Forecaster, "you take the time of the flight, and Anton, I think you'd better watch the reel and see that the line doesn't foul."

The excitement of the boys grew intense. The box kite looked so unlike any of the kites that they had flown that some wondered whether it would go up in the air. Fred, in his capacity as editor, having seen a picture of a box-kite up in the air, was quite arrogant in his a.s.surances that it would really fly.

"Are you ready?" the Forecaster said, watching the whirling anemometer.

"Throw!"

At the word, Tom gave the kite a light toss in the air, against the direction of the wind, as indicated.

The kite swayed from side to side, but having four surfaces to the wind, did not swoop and dive like the flat kites. Only half a dozen times did it dart from side to side, then the current of the wind caught it at the right angle and it began to climb up into the air.

Tom waved his cap at it with an excited cheer, in which all the boys joined.

The first kite-flight of the League was on!

Smaller and smaller grew the kite, climbing until it was almost out of sight. The rattle of the reel, as the wire ran out, was music in the boys' ears. When the half-mile mark on the wire was pa.s.sed, the Forecaster said:

"I think that's enough for a first flight, boys. Better pull her in."

Some of the boys begged that the kite might be allowed to go up a little higher, but the home-made reel was a trifle rickety and would need strengthening. Winding the reel by hand took quite a long time, but the kite came to the ground, safely, unharmed.

From that time on, kite-flying became a pa.s.sion with the boys. The official measurements of the Weather Bureau kites were secured, together with diagrams showing exactly how the kites were to be built. Before a month was over, every member had a kite, and, as kite-races were to be held, every boy had to build his kite himself, absolutely without any outside help. It was nothing less than amazing to see how these kites, all built on the same pattern by different boys, behaved differently. It seemed almost as if the characters of the boys appeared in their kites.

Bob's was the slowest and most powerful, Anton's the fastest but behaved poorly in a strong wind, Monroe's was absolutely useless in a zephyr.

Tom, who up to that time, had felt that his share in the work of the League was extremely small, now found himself of great importance. He thought of kites in every spare minute of the day and dreamed of kites at night. His father had to forbid the mention of the word "kite" at meal-times. The lad made fliers of every shape and pattern, and his kites were usually so stable that it was upon his model that the meteorograph was fastened which registered the pressure, humidity and temperature of the air and the velocity of the wind, according to the request of the young fellow who had sent the League the two first kites.

The _Issaquena County Weather Review_ was compelled to run a regular weekly feature of "Kite Records" and few were the weeks without a flight.

At last came the fateful Sat.u.r.day, the last Sat.u.r.day in October, the day set for the kite races. Many of the boys had made new kites for the occasion and all had overhauled them. Secret practice flights had been made and the rivalry was keen. What was the wind going to be like? Would the day be fine? It was hinted that Tom had some special secret, but what it was no one knew, unless, perhaps, the Forecaster. The event had been quite widely advertised--had it not appeared in the _Review_!--and the neighborhood gathered as though to a country fair. The roped inclosure was full of people and the dimes which rattled into the dried gourd more than paid up the club's indebtedness for the wire and the s.h.i.+pment of the kites.

There were all kinds of races, races for speed, to see whose kite would reach a certain height the soonest; races for steadiness; races for alt.i.tude. Anton created great excitement by sending up one of the puppies in a basket attached to a parachute fastened to a kite which was released when he pulled a string. It was a big parachute and a small puppy, so that no one feared for the pup's safety.

Ross then came forward with his big kite. It could not be entered in the races, because all the kites for racing had been of standard size.

"What are those little b.a.l.l.s?" one of the boys asked, pointing to bundles covered with paper and attached to a leading string, which were fastened at fifty-foot intervals to the leading wire.

"You'll see," said Ross, and up went the big kite. It flew steadily and well and when a couple of hundred yards above the ground, he made it fast to one of the stakes. Then, while every one watched, he gave the leading string a sharp tug, and then a succession of pulls, breaking loose each of the little bundles attached to the leading wire. And, as the people looked, first one and then another American flag burst out of its covering, the lowermost and largest bundle being a big Stars and Stripes that floated out gallantly above the kite-ground.

"Now," said Ross, turning to the Kite-Master, as the boys had begun to call Tom, "out with your secret! What is it?"

Tom turned to the Forecaster.

"Is it all right for to-day?" he asked.

The weather expert looked keenly at the sky, glanced at the weather-vane and the whirling anemometer, and nodded his head.

"I think so," he said. "The weather's a little gusty, but this is the time to try. Nothing venture, nothing have!"

At the word, Tom ran off into the house. The boys watched him, wondering what new contrivance the Kite-Master was going to produce.

He reappeared in a moment, carrying with him a new kite, a little larger than the others, but of the same usual pattern. This was not particularly exciting. He laid the kite down on the ground and ran into the house again. In a moment, he was out again with another.

"Going to fly them tandem?" asked Ross.

Tom did not answer. He laid that one on the ground and returned into the house again.