Page:Sim new-mcclures-magazine 1902-09 19 5.pdf/72

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458

HOW I BECAME AN AËRONAUT

never in a dirigible balloon. The remembrance of it sometimes haunts me in my dreams.

A Terrible Experience at Nice

THE FALL INTO THE COURTYARD OF THE TROCADERO HOTELS.
SANTOS-DUMONT NO. 5

It was at Nice, in 1900, when I went up from the Place Massena in a spherical balloon on a mere pleasure-trip. The weather was nice; but the barometer was low, which meant storm. I went in the direction of Cimiez for a time; but the wind threatened to carry me out to sea and I threw out ballast, rising to the height of about a mile. Shortly after this I let the balloon go down again, hoping to find a safer air-current. When within 300 yards of the ground, however, near the Var, I noticed that the balloon had ceased descending. As I had determined to land in any case, I opened the valve and let out some more gas. And here the terrible experience began.

The barometer assured me that I was going up, while I felt—by the wind and everything—that I was going down, as I ought to be, because I had let out gas. To my great uneasiness I presently discovered what was wrong. I was being lifted by an enormous column of air rushing upward. I opened the valve again: the balloon was surely having a great fall through the column; still the barometer showed that I had attained a higheraltitudeabovetheground, and I could now take account of it by the way the land was disappearing under me. I now closed the valve to save my gas and waited to see what would happen.

The upward-moving column of air continued to lift me to a height of 3,000 meters (almost 2 miles). At last the balloon stopped rising; and soon the barometer showed that the balloon was descending toward the earth. When I began to see land, I threw out ballast, not to come down too quickly. I could now perceive the storm beating the trees and shrubbery; up in the storm itself I had felt nothing. Carried along at a terrific rate, knocking against the tops of trees, and continually threatened with a painful death, I threw out my anchor. It caught in trees and shrubs and broke away. The basket itself caught and broke away. Had it been in heavy timber, it would have been all over with me. As it was, I was dragged through the small trees and yielding shrubbery, my face