Democratic Sentinel, Volume 8, Number 7, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 14 March 1884 — HIGH UP IN A BALLOON. [ARTICLE]

HIGH UP IN A BALLOON.

"Late on a clear autumn afternoon of 188- the well-known “Woodard’s Gardens,” in the city of San Francisco, could scarcely contain a surging crowd come together from all quarters of the city to witness-the ascent of a monster balloon. In that ascent our artist and the faithful reporter were directly interested; nor was the flight into ether which they and the Captain (an experienced aeionaut) of the undertaking proposed by any means a common-place affair, being no less than an attempt to cross in mid-air the mighty range of the Sierra Nevada, and land far on the other side of that tremendous palisade, in Salt Lake City itself. It is hardly necessary to state that this aeronautic feat had never been accomplished. Undertaken, the truthful writer regrets to confess, it had been, and by the same venturesome trio, who, flitting in shame on the roof of the cowmed where they had collapsed at the very outset of their trip, railed at the ■brick chimney which had wrecked their air ship, endured the jeers of the throng below with humility, and vowed to repeat the attempt within a week. A charity picnic afforded an excellent opportunity. The balloon had been patched, the temper of the trio restored, and once again the immense swollen bag toppled in air, pulling upward with all of its 34,000 cubic feet of

gas. Our party were fairly prompt. We took our places amid the cheers of the crowd. Everything was looked to quickly. “Are you ready?” rang out the question. “Ready; let go!” assented the Captain. the cables were jerked off; with the sweep of the hurricane our aerostat shot up into space. The ground, the crowd, the buildings surrounding the gardens, the tallest treetops outlying us, dropped like enchantment below—still further below—far beneath. Our undertaking was Well begun. So much has been said of the impressions which the air voyager derives during the first half hour of his ascent that space may be saved here. The thrill of intense excitement as all connection with earth seems sundered; the up-turned faces and black coats in the concourse of spectators becoming black and white dots; the universal “foreshortening” of all creation as one looks down upon it —all combine to produce a feeling that can never pall. The fascination of floating at so vast an altitude as a balloon can soon attain is delicious. Few persons are troubled by giddiness. Confused sounds rise lullingly to the ear, one scarcely distinSushable from the rest. A kind of inxication steals over the navigator. To live and move thus seems a rapture. Small wonder that the man who “balloons” once will “balloon” again and again each time becoming more infatuated in tempting fate. Our evening was perfectly serene and cloudless. A gentle breeze wafted us northward. The earth became a pale green and gr ay map as we reached the level of 2,006 feet above the Bay of San Francisco, which stretched out glimtnering toward the horizon. We could discern the city, the Golden Gate, the Farallone Islands. On the east rose

Mount Diablo and the Coast Range summits. Northward rippled, Sacramento Bay, with a golden dust of cloud hanging over it The prospect invig- ’ orated us and soda water was approI priately absorbed by all • present, ■ stronger beverages being interdicted. Sunset came on. We had been ; gradually reaching the speed of ninety I miles an hour. Not that it was possible to perceive the fact without scientific help. Eten if a hurricane be blowing, there is still the endless sensation of floating, floating, for the air-current and the air-ship keep exact pace. Thanks to the pieces of tissue paper which were flung out lavishly from i time to time, and to the gauze stream- | ers fluttering from our cordage, we I could ascertain the direction of the wind. Even a few handfuls of sand thrown out from the ballast bags hanging over the rail caused us to rise | perceptibly, for the best and most delii cate scales in the chemist’s laboratory I cannot register the fractions of an ounce as does the balloon, The sun went down. Dusk advanced. “We must descend and put up for the night, friends,” said our Captain. With the vault above turning to a deep indigo, we sank gently, and skirted along the country from Which the Coast Range rises.

We were just in time to attract the attention of a number of farm hands returning from work through the fields. With much shouting back and forth, our dragging ropes were caught and made fast. “Tie it to anything, from a gate-post to a steeple,” suggested our artist, in a series of whoops worthy of a calliope. After a stiff battle, in which some of our kind assisters were pretty severely pulled about, we found ourselves on terra firms, and on the way to a neighboring farm-house. There we made light of a famous supper. washed down gayly with superb California wine. Our first stage was accomplished, and wo slept the sleep which it would be a great pity for only the just to enjoy. “Daylight already?” was the common exclamation when our vigilant Captain administered sundry shakings to each one of us. In an hour breakfast was over, and we were retracing our steps through the fields. The anchors were loosed after hearty handshakes with our hospitable hosts; once more the delightful sensation of boundless freedom and buoyancy. “Isn’t this rising early in the morning with a vengeance?” queried one of the fraternity, as the Captain Announced us to be overtopping 16,000 feet. “The man who will make a joke of that character under such matutinal circumstances, deserves to be-thrown out of this conveyance,” responded the Captain, grimly. .But our atmospheric conditions were not long favorable to joking. The cold grew intense. Our voices seemed mysteriously muffled,and it was necessary to shout instead of chat. Ears tingled, and the rush of blood to the forehead foreshadowed the sudden nose-bleedings that followed. Our Captain, prudent sailor, thoroughly approved of husbanding the ascensional powers of his craft. We dropped apace to a warmer and more normal level, where life was livable at lower pressure.

By this time our second day was well begun. The morning mists evaporated around, above,and below us. The west wind spun us toward the gigantic peaks of the Sierra Nevada, which finally mounted the eastern sky in full sight. We greeted them with cheers. “Ah, old fellows, we will be on the other side of you soon I” cried one of the party. “Take care,” responded the Captain, smilingly; “you are by no means there yet.” Beautifully penciled in green and black, the forest slopes extended to our view. “Look over there,” ejaculated the Captain. “Do you make out the track of the Central Pacific ? See! There is a train climbing up that grade!” Our artist did make out railroad and train, and contrived to sketch the same. In a little time we passed nearly over both, and caught the rumble and roar of wheels and the sight of a flurry oi handkerchiefs from the car windows. But our mighty air ship could not delay for courtesies; the lightning express fell far behind. Steadily, wind and all else favorable, we rose and swept forward. With a fresh cheer we saw the highest peak of the lofty mountain wilderness lying 3,000 feet beneath us.

“At this rate we shall be on the other side, and asleep in Salt Lake City tonight,” cried two of us. Alas! this boast was scarcely uttered before its punishment came upon us. Streaks of cloud suddenly appeared above the great Nevada table lands. The wind veered to the north. Its speed and ours increased. Our Captain’s uneasiness grew evident. A mostnre like dew began to freeze over us. We began to sink rapidly. Clearly we were in train for experiences of a most unexpected sort. “Throw out the ballast!” called our Captain. Rising once more, we darted into a dense cloud, and there drifted with lightning speed still northward. Water froze upon our cordage. There was only one thing now to do. “Over withall the ballast!” commanded our leader. It was in vain. We shot down perpendicularly with the speed of a bullet—l,soo feet in each second. Presently the whizzing of the gale in the tree tops of the mountain summit became terribly, audible. To land under such circumstances was imposible. Everything we possessed was tossed overboard—our spare clothing, our provisions—still, to no purpose. A moment or two later, with a series of crashes, and boands, and leaps that made us hold dn like grim death itself, our basket was dragging through the thick-set pine tope. Who could fitly describe the frightful sensations that ensued ? With all visions dissipated of success in ounetpedition, and possibly reaching Salt Laker City or, anywhere else alive, we croached' with clinched hold and sot teeth in the basket. Occasionally, as wo were borne across some depression in the mountain sides, we were free from collisions, and wore swfept somewhat upward. I well remember tjiat during one of these intervals ®r Captain, finding the rope of the escape valve had become entangled above. with masterly

j address clambered the network iof the bounding globe, and, ; clinging tightly to what slender hold Ihe found, adjusted it It was a feat to tremble at in recollecting. In less than ten minutes after it had been accomplished we struck the tree tops again, and were hurled more mercilessly than ; ever among their creaking branches, until with one tremendous shock our basket struck the strong limbs of a mighty forest giant and held firm. To pull the ripping rope was the work of a second. With a crack a whole seam of the balloon parted. The gas fell about us in our wretched situation, nearly choking us. Our late tyrant collapsed and hung suspended from its collossal peg, the pine tree. We were safe. Upon the remaining adventures of that luckless day neither reporter nor artist is disposed to dilate. Our valiant Captain, being inured to such untimely ends to all the pomp and circumstance of glorious ballooning, was subsequently seen to smile over the affair. With vast difficulty we managed to glide down the glippery trunk of the pine, whose only branches, among which we perched, grew eighty feet from the ground. We had landed on the summit of a spur of the Sierras. By compass we took our bearings and set out for shelter. Around us rose the wilderness pure and simple. There was no trace of road or habitation, and we were forced to fight our way through the dense undergrowth until nightfall. Without provisions, and utterly exhausted, our little party throw themselves down under the thicket’s shelter, and slept till the pallid dawn. A second day of such fruitless wandering meant something so nearly approaching death that we hardly cared to contemplate it as we trudged onward. By noon of the second day the strength of one of the party had given out entirely. The other two were manfully preparing to carry him between them, when a roaring brook was struck, and feebly followed with reviving hope. It was scarcely a quarter of an hour before the expected flume was discovered, at the foot of a steep declivity. A solitary Chinaman stood beside it plying a spade. We made our way toward him. At first our haggard appearance and scarcely understood tongue made the suspicious Celestial little disposed to listen to us or have aught to do with us; but, speedily becoming convinced that we had no designs upon his claim, he lent a wondering and compassionate ear to the narrative which our Captain communicated, and presently summoned all his pig<-tailed fellowship to hearken and aid us. We were, in truth, very kindly cared for by our yellow-faced friends during the two days which we found we must pass in that lonely i '«amp before' mules and wagons and men could be summoned from Nevada City, fifty miles distant. When they arrived the balloon was looked up, and, ripped apart, forwarded to Reno. The overland train was finally taken, and our trio speeded to San Francisco, in defeat, but with thankful souls. — Harper's Weekly.