One wonders whether, throughout the long hours, weeks and months, in darkness which renders her eyes a mockery, there ever comes to her dull ganglion a flash of memory of The Day, of the rushing wind, the escape from pursuing puff-birds, the jungle stretching away for miles beneath, her mate, the cool tap of drops from a passing shower, the Volplane to earth, and the obliteration of all save labor.
"Edge of the Jungle"
William Beebe
He passed over high buildings, skirted what seemed like a factory district, and began to Volplane.
"Dave Dashaway and his Hydroplane"
Roy Rockwood