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128
Wonderful Balloon Ascents; Or, The Conquest of the Skies
·
Fulgence Marion
102
“This
truth
is
too
palpable
to
all
of
us
to
require
expressing
in
so
many
words,
for
we
are
just
commencing
that
furious,
tearing
course
called
‘trailing.’
“Our
swift
pace
was
considerably
accelerated
by
the
lower
part
of
the
balloon,
which--limp,
empty,
and
forming
nearly
a
third
of
the
whole--had
been
set
free
at
the
first
shock,
and
flapped
against
the
distended
part,
acting
as
a
sail.
The
shocks
continued
to
multiply
so
fast
that
it
was
impossible
to
count
them.
The
car
continued
to
rebound
from
these
shocks
to
the
height
of
five,
ten,
sometimes
thirty,
forty,
and
even
fifty
feet,
for
all
the
world
like
an
India-rubber
ball
from
the
hands
of
an
indefatigable
player.
Unfortunately,
all
our
human
freight,
terror
stricken
and
without
advice,
had
crowded
into
one
side
of
the
car;
and
as
this
happened
to
be
the
side
on
which
we
invariably
bumped,
we
experienced
all
the
worst
effects
of
the
joltings.
“What
a
dizzy
whirl!
What
a
succession
of
breathless
shocks!
What
a
strain
on
both
muscles
and
nerves!
By
the
least
negligence
or
slip,
or
by
the
loss
of
presence
of
mind
for
one
moment,
we
should
have
been
thrown
out
and
dashed
to
atoms.
“Every
collision
tries
our
muscles
and
strains
our
wrists
or
our
shoulders;
and
every
rebound
dashes
us
one
against
the
other,
constituting
each
individual
a
tormentor
and
victim
at
the
same
time.
Our
flight
is
so
rapid
that
we
can
only
distinguish
an
occasional
glimpse
of
anything.
Far,
far
in
the
distance
we
distinguish
an
isolated
tree.
We
approach
it
like
lightning,
and
we
break
it
as
though
it
were
a
straw.
“Two
terrified
horses,
with
manes
and
tails
erect,
endeavour
to
fly
from
us.
But
we
consume
distances;
we
leave
them
behind
immediately.
We
skip
over
a
flock
of
affrighted
sheep
in
one
of
our
bounds.
But
now
comes
the
real
danger.
“At
this
moment,
when
we
were
perfectly
benumbed
with
fear,
and
had
lost
all
power
of
articulation,
we
saw
a
locomotive,
drawing
two
carriages,
running
along
an
embankment
at
right
angles
to
our
course.
A
few
more
revolutions
of
the
wheels,
and
it
will
be
all
over
with
us,
for
we
seem
to
be
fated
to
meet
with
geometrical
precision
at
one
spot!
“What
will
happen?
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