The Strand Magazine, Vol. 05, Issue 26, February 1893: An Illustrated Monthly — John Shaqi
The Strand Magazine, Vol. 05, Issue 26, February 1893: An Illustrated MonthlyVarious
General
The Strand Magazine, Vol. 05, Issue 26, February 1893: An Illustrated Monthly
Various
English literature -- Periodicals; Short stories, English -- Periodicals
Then I asked them where we were going; whereabouts we had got to; and
why we did not descend. Which elicited the fact that Kenneth had thrown
away the instruments by which the aeronaut informs himself of his
location and the direction of his course. For a long time Phillip
playfully put me off in my petition to be restored to _terra firma_, but
at last it came out that the valve-line being cut we could not descend,
and that the balloon must speed on, mounting higher and higher, until it
would probably burst in the extreme tension of the air.
"Soon after that," said Phillip, with a grim, hard laugh, "we shall be
back on the earth again."
We found it difficult to enjoy the trip after this prospect was made
clear. Nor did conversation flow very freely. The hours dragged slowly
on, and our sufferings increased.
At last Phillip made up his mind to attempt a desperate remedy. What it
was he would not tell me, but, kissing me tenderly, he made me lie down
and covered my head with his coat.
Then he took off his boots, and then the car creaked and swayed, and
suddenly I felt he was gone out of it. He had told me not to look out
from under his coat; but how could I obey him? I did look, and I saw him
climbing like a cat up the round, hard side of the balloon, clinging
with hands and feet to the netting that covered it.
As he mounted, the balloon swayed over with his weight until it was
right above him and he could hardly hold on to the cords with his toes
and his fingers. Still he crept on, and still the great silken fabric
heeled over, as if it resented his boldness and would crush him.
Once his foothold gave way, and he dropped to his full length, retaining
only his hand-grip of the thin cords, which nearly cut his fingers in
two under the strain of his whole weight. I thought he was gone; I
thought I had lost him for ever. It seemed impossible he could keep his
hold, and even if he did the weak netting must give way. It stretched
down where he grasped it into a bag form and increased his distance
from the balloon, so that he could not reach with his feet, although he
drew his body up and made many a desperate effort to do so.
[Illustration: "CLINGING WITH HANDS AND FEET TO THE NETTING."]
But while I watched him in an agony of powerlessness to help, the
balloon slowly regained the perpendicular, and just as Phillip seemed at
the point of exhaustion his feet caught once more in the netting, and,
with his arms thrust through the meshes and twisted in and out for
security, while his strong teeth also gripped the cord, I saw my husband
in comparative safety once more. I turned to relieve my pent-up feelings
to Kenneth, but he was not in the car--only his boots. He had seen
Phillip's peril, and climbed up on the other side of the balloon to
restore the balance.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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