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128
Wonderful Balloon Ascents; Or, The Conquest of the Skies
·
Fulgence Marion
97
the
pleasure
of
existence
for
the
first
time,
for
I
am
in
full
possession,
as
on
no
other
occasion,
of
perfect
health
of
mind
and
body.
The
aeronauts
of
the
‘Geant’
will
scarcely
condescend
to
pity
those
miserable
mortals
whom
they
can
only
faintly
recognise
by
their
gigantic
works,
which
appear
to
them
not
more
dignified
than
ant-hills!
“The
sun
had
already
set
behind
the
purple
horizon
in
our
rear.
The
atmosphere
was
still
quite
clear
round
the
‘Geant,’
although
there
was
a
thick
haze
underneath,
through
which
we
could
occasionally
see
lights
glimmering
from
the
earth.
We
had
attained
a
sufficient
altitude
to
be
only
just
able
to
hear
noises
from
villages
that
we
left
beneath
us,
and
were
beginning
to
enjoy
the
delicious
calm
and
repose
peculiar
to
aerial
ascents.
“There
is,
however,
a
talk
about
dinner,
or
rather
supper,
and
night
is
now
fast
approaching.
Every
one
eats
with
the
best
possible
appetite.
Hams,
fowls
and
dessert
only
appear
to
disappear
with
an
equal
promptitude,
and
we
quench
our
thirst
with
bordeaux
and
champagne.
I
remind
our
companions
of
the
pigeons
we
brought
with
us,
and
which
are
hanging
in
a
cage
outside
the
railing.
I
knew
there
was
no
danger
of
their
flying
away,
so
fearlessly
opened
the
cage.
The
three
or
four
birds
I
had
put
in
the
car
seemed
struck
with
terror.
They
flew
awkwardly
towards
the
centre
of
our
party,
tumbling
among
the
plates
and
dishes
and
under
our
feet.
It
was
not
a
case
of
hunger
with
them,
and
I
ought
to
have
remembered
that
their
feeding
time
was
long
since
past.
I
replaced
them
in
their
cage.
“Meanwhile,
the
sun
has
left
us
for
some
time.
Our
longing
gaze
followed
it
behind
the
dark
clouds
in
the
horizon,
whose
edges
it
tipped
with
a
glorious
purple.
Its
last
rays
shone
on
us,
and
then
came
a
bluish-grey
twilight.
Suddenly
we
are
enveloped
in
a
dense
fog.
We
look
around,
above
us.
Everything
has
disappeared
in
the
mist.
The
balloon
itself
is
no
longer
visible.
We
can
see
nothing
except
the
ropes
which
suspend
us,
and
these
are
only
visible
for
a
few
feet
above
our
heads,
when
they
lose
themselves
in
the
fog.
We
are
alone
with
our
wickerwork
house
in
an
unfathomable
vault.
“We
still
ascend,
however,
through
the
compact
and
terrible
fog,
which
is
so
solid-looking
as
to
seem
capable
of
being
carved
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