A Voyage in a Balloon | Page 7

the lower part of the balloon'--'But we are still
descending. We are lost! Everything not indispensable must be thrown

overboard!' Their provisions, oars and helm were thrown out into the
sea. They were now only 100 metres in height. 'We are remounting,'
said the Doctor.--' No, it is the jerk caused by the diminution of weight.
There is not a ship in sight! Not a bark on the horizon! To the sea with
our garments!' And the unfortunate men stripped, but the balloon
continued to descend. 'Blanchard,' said Jefferies, 'you were to have
made this voyage alone; you consented to take me; I will sacrifice
myself to you! I will throw myself into the water, and the balloon,
relieved, will re-ascend!'--' No, no, it is frightful.' The balloon collapsed
more and more, and its concavity forming a parachute, forced the gas
against its sides and accelerated its motion. 'Adieu, my friend,' said the
Doctor. 'May God preserve you!' He was about to have taken the leap,
when Blanchard detained him. 'One resource remains to us! We can cut
the cords by which the car is attached, and cling to the network?
perhaps the balloon will rise. Ready! But the barometer falls! We
remount! The wind freshens! We are saved!' The voyagers perceived
Calais! Their joy became delirium; a few moments later, they
descended in the forest of Guines. I doubt not," continued the unknown,
"that in similar circumstances you would follow the example of Doctor
Jefferies."
The clouds were unrolling beneath our feet in glittering cascades; the
balloon cast a deep shadow on this pile of clouds, and was surrounded
by them as with an aureola! The thunder growled beneath our feet! All
this was frightful!
"Let us descend!" exclaimed I.
"Descend, when the sun is awaiting us yonder! Down with the bags!"
And he lightened the balloon of more than fifty pounds. At 3000 metres
we remained stationary. The unknown talked incessantly, but I scarcely
heard him; I was completely prostrated, while he seemed in his
element.
"With a good wind, we shall go far, but we must especially go high!"
"We are lost!"
"In the Antilles there are currents of air which travel a hundred leagues
an hour! On the occasion of Napoleon's coronation, Gavnerin let off a
balloon illuminated with coloured lamps, at eleven o'clock in the
evening! The wind blew from the N.N.E.; the next morning at daybreak
the inhabitants of Rome saluted its passage above the dome of St.

Peter's. We will go farther."
I scarcely heard him; everything was buzzing around me! There was an
opening in the clouds!
"See that city, my host;" said the unknown. "It is Spire. Nothing else!"
I dared not lean over the railing of the car. Nevertheless I perceived a
little black spot. This was Spire. The broad Rhine looked like a riband,
the great roads like threads. Above our heads the sky was of a deep
azure; I was benumbed with the cold. The birds had long since forsaken
us; in this rarefied sir their flight would have been impossible. We were
alone in space, and I in the presence of a strange man!
"It is useless for you to know whither I am taking you," said he, and he
threw the compass into the clouds. "A fall is a fine thing. You know
that there have been a few victims from Pilatre des Rosiers down to
Lieutenant Gale, and these misfortunes have always been caused by
imprudence. Pilatre des Rosiers ascended in company with Remain, at
Boulogne, on the 13th of June, 1785. To his balloon, inflated with gas,
he had suspended a mongolfier filled with warm air, undoubtedly to
save the trouble of letting off gas, or throwing out ballast. It was like
putting a chafing-dish beneath a powder-cask. The imprudent men rose
to a height of four hundred metres, and encountered opposing winds,
which drove them over the ocean. In order to descend, Pilatre attempted
to open the valve of the aerostat; but the cord of this valve caught in the
balloon, and tore it so that it was emptied in an instant. It fell on the
mongolfier, overturned it, and the imprudent men were dashed to
pieces in a few seconds. It is _frightful, is_ it not?" said the unknown,
shaking me from my torpor.
I could reply only by these words:
"In pity, let us descend! The clouds are gathering around us in every
direction, and frightful detonations reverberating from the cavity of the
aerostat are multiplying around us."
"You make me impatient!" said he. "You shall no longer know whether
we are ascending or descending."
And the barometer went after the compass, along with some bags of
sand. We must have been at a height of four thousand metres. Some
icicles were attached