heir necks
to see, noticed that something was wrong; the motor slowed down, the
propeller spun less swiftly, and the whole fabric began to sink toward
the ground. While the people gazed, their hearts in their mouths, they
saw Santos-Dumont scramble out of his basket and crawl out on the
framework, while the balloon swayed in the air. He calmly knotted the
cord that had parted and crept back to his place, as unconcernedly as if
he were on solid ground.

It was in August of 1901 that he made his first official trial for the
Deutsch Prize. The start was perfect, and the machine swooped toward the
distant tower straight as a crow flies and almost as fast. The first
half of the distance was covered in nine minutes, so twenty-one minutes
remained for the balance of the journey: success seemed assured; the
prize was almost within the grasp of the aeronaut. Of a sudden assured
success was changed to dire peril; the automatic valves began to leak,
the balloon to sag, the cords supporting the wooden keel hung low, and
before Santos-Dumont could stop the motor the propeller had cut them and
the whole system was threatened. The wind was drifting the air-ship
toward the Eiffel Tower; the navigator had lost control; 500 feet below
were the roofs of the Trocadero Hotels; he had to decide which was the
least dangerous; there was but a moment to think. Santos-Dumont, death
staring him in the face, chose the roofs. A swift jerk of a cord, and a
big slit was made in the balloon. Instantly man, motor, gas-bag, and
keel went tumbling down straight into the court of the hotels. The great
balloon burst with a noise like an explosion, and the man was lost in a
confusion of yellow-silk covering, cords, and wires. When the firemen
reached the place and put down their long ladders they found him
standing calmly in his wicker basket, entirely unhurt. The long, staunch
keel, resting by its ends on the walls of the court, prevented him from
being dashed to pieces. And so ended No. 5.

Most men would have given up aerial navigation after such an experience,
but Santos-Dumont could not be deterred from continuing his experiments.
The night of the very day which witnessed his fearful fall and the
destruction of No. 5 he ordered a new balloon for "Santos-Dumont No. 6."
It showed the pluck and determination of the man as nothing else could.

Twenty-two days after the aeronaut's narrow escape his new air-ship was
finished and ready for a flight. No. 6 w