It wasn't long before Jonathan Gull was off by himself again, far out at sea,

hungry, happy, learning.

The subject was speed, and in a week's practice he learned more about speed than

the fastest gull alive.

From a thousand feet, flapping his wings as hard as he could be pushed over into a

blazing steep dive toward the waves, and learned why seagulls don't make blazing

steep dives. In just six seconds he was moving seventy miles per hour, the speed at

which one's wing goes unstable on the upstroke.

Time after time it happened. Careful as he was, working at the very peak of his

ability, he lost control at high speed.

Climb to a thousand feet. Full power straight ahead first, then push over, flapping,

to a vertical dive. Then, every time, his left wing stalled on an upstroke, he'd roll

violently left, stall his right wing recovering, and flick like fire into a wild tumbling

spin to the right.

He couldn't be careful enough on that upstroke. Ten times he tried, and all ten

times, as he passed through seventy miles per hour, he burst into a churning mass

of feathers, out of control, crashing down into the water.

The key, he thought at last, dripping wet, must be to hold the wings still at high

speeds - to flap up to fifty and then hold the wings still.

From two thousand feet he tried again, rolling into his dive, beak straight down,

wings full out and stable from the moment he passed fifty miles per hour. It took

tremendous strength, but it worked. In ten seconds he had blurred through ninety

miles per hour. Jonathan had set a world speed record for seagulls!

But victory was short-lived. The instant he began his pullout, the instant he changed

and at ninety miles per hour it hit him like dynamite. Jonathan Seagull exploded in

midair and smashed down into a brick hard sea

Part 1 Chapter 2.mp3