"I hope they won't do any damage when they strike," he said, "but they certainly won't do any in this ship, while I'm captain. No _vodka_ for you, my friend. What's this--_Limonade gazenze_--ah, that fills the bill! Bottled lemonade, straight from Paris--two pints for each of us. Have some?" And he opened a can of beef and passed over a bottle of lemonade. Stevens scowled, but accepted the situation, and the two made a hearty breakfast. They had just flung over the empty can and bottles when they heard the report of a musket. "I don't like it!" shouted Fred, springing up so quickly that the basket rocked, and the spy turned pale again. "While we were eating we've been dropping, I'm sure I don't know why, unless there's a rip somewhere aloft. We aren't more than a thousand yards up, and they're taking pot shots at us from a Jap encampment. Out goes some more ballast!" He suited the word by emptying a bag of sand, and the balloon rose at once, as he ascertained by throwing out a few scraps of paper, which seemed to drop like lead. One or two more shots were fired, but the balloon quickly swept out of range, as before. The aeronauts had not gone far, however, when it became evident that they were again slowly sinking. "I don't like it," said Fred, shaking his head as he threw out another sand-bag. "Some of these bullets have punctured the old bag aloft, as sure as you live." "I thought you said you meant to land somewhere in the rear of the main Japanese lines!" exclaimed Stevens apprehensively. "What's the use of keeping up so high?" "What I really want now is steam enough to take us right across the gulf to Chefoo," answered the other. "We're heading straight for it," he added, consulting a small compass that dangled from his watch-guard. "If we can fetch that port there'll be no more trouble. But I don't like this sinking. It looks as if we had sprung a leak somewhere, and, don't you see, man? there's only one bag of ballast left!" In the course of an hour they had descended to within a few hundred feet of the ground, and Fred reluctantly parted with the last pound of sand. The sea could now be plainly discerned, to the southward. "Look--there are two of Togo's ships!" exclaimed Larkin. "Oh, what a sight! Don't I wish I had a good kodak!" Again the balloon dropped, and Fred flung out every movable object in the car. They shot up a thousand feet, but the relief was of short duration. "O for a couple of hundred-weight of ballast!" groaned Fred. "Or a gale of wind to take us over the water!" Once more the balloon gently descended. The breeze seemed to be dying out. They were now directly over the outworks of the Japanese forces besieging Port Arthur. Bang! bang! rang out the guns, far below. The great gas-bag quivered and began to drop faster.