Page:Flying Death.pdf/18

 for a monoplane racer, seen from the tail at six miles, makes no great mark on the sky. It's visible but you have to know exactly where to look for it and once you lose it, you can't pick it up again, except by chance. You have to search the sky not only from right to left but you have to look at so many levels for the speck.

Moreover, since it was morning, we were flying at the sun which swallows with invisibility everything caught in its glare. Pete, to me, had disappeared into the sun.

I rediscovered him, but not his plane, most suddenly and startlingly. There I was, rushing on at five miles a minute and imagining Pete was far ahead under the glare when, all at once, here he was in midair in front of me, suspended from a parachute. His seaplane had vanished; nothing else and nobody about; just Pete hanging there ten thousand feet above the sea and fifty miles out, with his white parachute ballooned over him.

He was turning slowly as he floated; and when he twisted toward me, he squirmed and pointed upward and eastward, straight into