At half past five in the afternoon, Paulhan suddenly set out for Manchester. Mr. White, who was much fatigued and expecting to start on the morrow at dawn, after much-needed rest, learned toward six o’clock that his rival was on the wing, and hurriedly sailed from London, hoping by skill and good chance to overtake the flying Frenchman. The race was now the most exciting event in the world. The first flyers of France and England were competing for the greatest prize yet offered in the history of aviation, competing in a most modern and extraordinary race, attended with abundant danger and hardship. The contestants were evenly matched in mechanism and capability, but the Frenchman had gotten the march on the unwary Englishman. Paulhan followed the Northwestern Railway, at times outracing the special pilot train carrying his mechanics and supplies. At ten minutes after eight o’clock, he landed at Lichfield, having covered 115 miles. Mr. White had landed five minutes before eight near Roade, after flying fifty-nine miles. Next morning, Paulhan sailed away at a quarter past four. Mr. White, hoping to overtake him, had started at dead of night and covered twenty miles before Paulhan had started. It was a heroic effort, but unavailing. At twelve minutes after five, Mr. White landed at Hademore, having completed two thirds of the entire journey. Twenty-five minutes later Paulhan landed on the outskirts of Manchester, greeted by a thousand persons. He had covered the whole distance in 4.2 hours, and had fulfilled all the essential conditions for winning the great prize. The next world-famous aëroplane voyage was that of Glenn H. Curtiss for the New York _World’s_ prize of $10,000 for the first aërial journey from Albany to New York, allowing two stops. Aviators had been yearning for this prize since the previous year, but had been too timidly shying at the dangers of the route. After most careful preparations for this voyage, Curtiss, bearing a letter from the Mayor of Albany to the Mayor of New York, sailed away at seven o’clock on Sunday morning, May 29th, accompanied by a New York Central special train, bearing his wife and a few friends and newspaper men. He landed an hour for supplies and adjustment at Camelot, 41 miles down the river, and thence flew to Spuyten Duyvil, at the northern extremity of New York, having completed the required distance, 128 miles, in 2 hours and 32 minutes, or at the rate of 50.52 miles per hour along the course. An hour later, he flew down the river to New York Harbor and landed on Governor’s Island, where he received a becoming ovation. Perhaps the most exciting incident of the voyage to Mr. Curtiss was his transit of the Storm King Mountain. As he was flying through the narrow gap at this place he caught the down-rolling air on one side more than on the other, and dropped very suddenly sidewise 30 or 40 feet. By shifting his front control, he quickly gained headway and promptly righted his machine.