AN INTERRUPTED FLIGHT
And so it was arranged. The young aeronauts thus had all afternoon
to store provisions, water, gasoline and the instruments. The
altitude barometer, the recording thermometer, the statoscope and
recording hygrometer, together with the telescopic camera were each
given a place on the bridge and lashed to the netting. The
twenty-five-foot rope-ladder, strong but light, that was to hang
below the car, and the anchor and drag rope, were attached, the name
pennant of white with the word "Cibola" resplendent in blue, "turquoise
blue," explained Ned--was unfurled on its little staff just abaft the
big propeller, and a new silk American flag was laid out it the stern
of the car to be run up on its halyards as soon as the bag was attached.
Then came the careful transfer of the liquid hydrogen. One at a
time the cast iron eases were carried from the building, hoisted
aboard the car and lashed in place. Before supper Ned had time to
go to the depot and send a telegram to Major Honeywell, who was yet
in Chicago. It read:
"Ready for inflation. All O. K. Sail at 2 P. M. to-morrow, August
11."
He then visited "Saloon Row" and arranged for twenty men to report
at four o'clock the next morning. No chances were to be taken that
night. Dividing the hours up to four A. M. into two watches, the
two boys had supper and Ned was soon fast asleep on the floor of the
car "trying it out."
At the first blush of dawn the corral gates were thrown open and in
a short time all the men engaged reported. Some of them were put to
work dumping the heavy iron filings into the big oak gas generators
and Ned and Alan began the delicate work of laying out the bag,
bottom side up the thin silken folds of the golden shell were slowly
lifted and laid on the ground. When the bottom filling valve had
been attached to the wooden gas conduits the mammoth sections of the
long gas receptacle were stretched out on top and then carefully
smoothed until an even inflation was assured.
This done, the rigging trunk was opened and the seine-like mass of
delicate hemp cords laid over the bag. No "greasers" were permitted
to assist in this. Ned and Alan, in bare feet, laboriously but
carefully drew the silk folds of the bag into the net. When this
was completed the suspension cords reached out in all directions
like skeleton fingers. In a quarter of an hour these had been
attached to the retaining bags with slip knots and then the boys
were surprised to find that it was already after six o'clock. At
their best they could not now hope to reach the relief camp before
nine o'clock and after dark.
Mrs. Buck came with a huge pot of coffee for all, and then followed
the last step. One by one, borne on the shoulders of the curious
workmen, the dangerous carboys of sulphuric acid were emptied into
the generating tanks. The boys guided each step of the men,
explaining the danger, and the work was finally completed without
hitch or accident.
At the first bubble of gas the boys felt like doing another war
dance. But they were "business men" now and had to put on dignity
in the face of their employees. In two hours the reaction of the
bubbling acid had sent enough hydrogen through the purifier to raise
the bag shoulder-high and everything was going splendidly. The boys
had removed their working clothes and were now in the light but warm
canvas suits and caps they meant to wear in their flight.
Ned stole away a few minutes and at the bank secured bills to pay
off the men. On his way back he stopped to invite Mayor Bradley to
lunch with them on the Cibola and to be present at the "let go." By
noon the men had been paid and the articles of baggage and tools
that were to be left behind had been packed, tagged with shipping
directions and turned over to Buck's wife.
The cigar-like bag, 98.4 feet long and 17.4 feet in diameter, which
was to hold over 65,000 feet of gas, was now so far inflated that it
was nearly off the ground. Then Mayor Bradley came. With pride the
boys bade him climb into the cabin of the Cibola.
"You won't find anything hot in a balloon, Mr. Mayor," laughed Ned,
"except the reception. Make yourself at home."
On the bridge of the craft the two boys and their guest had
luncheon. Cold potted chicken and baked beans served on wooden
plates with hardtack and water, and sweet chocolate for dessert, was
the simple meal, but it tasted like a feast.
"Have you christened the craft yet?" finally asked the Mayor who had
absorbed some of the enthusiasm of the young aeronauts.
"That's for you to do," politely answered Ned.
The luncheon was hurried to a finish, for the boys could see that
the bag needed final attention. It had risen higher and higher and
was now swaying and tugging at the suspension ropes. Both boys
alighted and at once began straightening the extension ropes. Here
and there where the cordage net was out of place they pulled down
the bag and adjusted the rigging. Finally a little after three
o'clock, the great case had filled out until its smooth glistening
sides resembled the skin of a fat sausage.
"All ready!" ordered Ned as he shut of the valve of the cooling and
purifying box. "Now, every man bear a hand."
One at a time the extension cords were untied from the retaining
bags, and each of the workmen was given four of the light but strong
lines. The Mayor himself passed among the men with stern
injunctions to hold fast. As the last cord was loosed the great
tugging bag was held wholly by the scared men. Then, with slow and
measured steps, the double line of assistants advanced to the car
and along each side of it.
"All steady," commanded Ned when each man had been placed; "now hang
onto her."
Then he and Alan, springing into the car, began the work of making
it fast to the bag. There was a place marked for each of the
extension ropes, and the air ship builders, beginning at each end of
the car, carefully adjusted and tied the end of each rope to the
frame of the ship. As the cords were taken from the attendants the
men took hold of the lower framework of the car, and to make doubly
sure each man was cautioned to throw his entire weight into the
work.
At last the final rope was made fast, and three thousand pounds of
human flesh and muscle were holding the tugging balloon. Ned,
covered with perspiration, and nervous but happy, was hastily
connecting the compensating balloon tube with the hand blower on the
bridge, and Alan had run astern to tie the new national colors to
the halyards swinging from the end of the bag.
"Hold on," cried Ned seeing that Alan was ready to run up the stars
and stripes. "Just a moment. Are you all ready, Mr. Mayor?"
"All ready," came the answer from the town official, as he stood on
a box, his hat off and a revolver in his hand.
"With a western salute I christen this balloon the 'Cibola,'" he
exclaimed, and a shot punctuated his speech. "Good luck and
goodbye!"
As the shot sounded Alan's flag ran fluttering upwards. Ned's eyes
took one final look fore and aft and then he leaned over the car for
the last words for which all were waiting.
They were on his lips and the eyes of twenty straining men were
fixed on him to hear the command, "Let go." One nervous attendant,
apparently thinking the order had been given, threw up his arms with
a shout.
At that instant there was a second sharp pistol shot, and a quick
cry from the street outside the corral.
"Hold on there, all of you!" shouted Ned. His dream had rushed back
to him with a sickening chill. Had some one shot at the towering
bag? "Hold on!" he yelled.
At that moment there was another shout and Bob Russell, his face red
with the sun and his shirt wet with perspiration, walked into the
corral. In his right hand was gripped a revolver and in his left a
repeating rifle. In front of him, and prodded on by Bob's pistol,
was the Mexican, Domingo, Jack Jellup's tool and fellow thief.