Seizing the valve
rope themselves, they tore it away from its attachment, the stronger
pushing back the weaker, and refusing to lend help when they had got
out. In consequence of this the car, relieved of their weight, tore away
from the grasp of Mr. Coxwell and those who still clung to it, and rose
above the trees, with Mr. Runge and one other passenger, Mr. Halferty,
alone within. As the balloon came earthwards again, they shouted to the
countrymen for succour, but without the slightest avail, and presently,
the anchor catching, the car struck the earth with a shock which threw
Mr. Halferty out on the ground, leaving Mr. Runge to rise again into the
air, this time alone." He thus continues the story:--

"The balloon moved on, very soon, in a horizontal direction straight
towards the sea, which we were then rapidly nearing. Coming to a farm,
I shouted out to the people standing there. Some women, with their quick
humane instincts, were the first to perceive my danger, and exhorted the
men to hurry to my assistance, they themselves running as fast as they
could to tender what little help they might be able to give me. The
anchor stuck in a willow tree. I shouted out to the people below to
secure the cable and anchor by ropes, which they did. The evening was
now beautifully still, the breeze had died away, and the balloon was
swinging calmly at her moorings above the farmhouse. One of the men
asked me whether I had a rope with me, and how I intended to get out.
I told them only to take care of the cable, because the balloon would
settle down by herself before long. I was congratulating myself on a
speedy escape from my dangerous position. I had not counted on the wind.
A breeze in about six or eight minutes sprang up, tossed the balloon
about like a large sail, then a crash, and--the anchor was loose again.
It tore through the trees, flinging limbs and branches about like
matches. It struck the roof of the farmhouse, splintering the chimneys
and tiles like glass.

"On I went; I came near another farm; shouted out for help, and told
the men to secure the anchor to the foot of a large tree close by. The
anchor was soon made fast, but this was only a momentary relief. The
breeze again filled the half-empty balloon like a sail, there was a
severe strain on the cable, then a dull sound, and a severe concussion
of the basket--the cable, strange fatality, had broken, and the anchor,
my last and only hope, was gone. I was now