II

WHICH TREATS OF EXPERIMENTS IN STEERING BALLOONS

IN all their experiments at the farm, Professor Myers and Mme. Carlotta have worked on individual lines, he striving of late years to perfect his skycycle (which is simply a balloon of torpedo shape with a rigging of propellers and fans underneath), while she has been content to gain skill in steering a balloon of ordinary shape by merely moving her body and utilizing varying air-currents, for the wind blows in different directions as you ascend.

It is remarkable how the position of an aeronaut's body may alter a balloon's movements. It is possible, for instance, to make a balloon ascend or descend, without touching valve or ballast, by a simple change of position. Stand with your legs apart, straddling from edge to edge of the basket, and by throwing your weight first on one foot and then on the other you will give a polliwog movement to the big bag above you, and it will go wriggling upward head-first some hundreds of feet. Or if you would make it descend (all this the professor explained to me), stand with your feet together in the middle of the basket, and, catching the balloon-neck at both sides, stretch your arms wide apart so that the fabric forms a chisel-edge, then sway your hips forward as far as you can, then back as far as you can, and keep doing this. Now the wriggling process is reversed; and this time the basket goes first, "tail wagging the dog," and the balloon descends.

[Ill.u.s.tration: MME. CARLOTTA STEERING A BALLOON BY TIPPING THE FOOT-BOARD.]

This ability to rise or fall at will allows Mme. Carlotta to pa.s.s easily from one train of clouds to another, and, by long study of these cross-moving aerial trains, she is able to pick out the one she wants for a certain destination with almost the precision of a foot-pa.s.senger selecting his particular street-car or changing from one to another. And in descending she has learned to steer forward or back, to left or right, by tipping the basket foot-board in the direction she wishes to take. The balloon follows the lowest edge of the foot-board as a ship follows her rudder.

An almost incredible instance of the skill attained by Carlotta in these experiments was furnished some dozen years ago at Ottawa, where she made an ascension never forgotten by the people of that city. It was a grand occasion in honor of Queen Victoria's gift of the Crystal Palace to her loyal subjects, and Canada had rarely seen such a gathering. Twenty-five thousand people, as was estimated, were packed inside the Exposition grounds to see the aeronaut rise to the clouds. And there at the appointed time stood Carlotta on a raised platform, with the mult.i.tude about her, waiting for the balloon. She wore a short skirt over a gymnasium suit, and made an attractive picture with her fine figure and golden-bronze hair. So thought various city dignitaries, who chatted with her admiringly while the crowd surged about them.

Meantime Professor Myers was anxiously watching the manoeuvers of some Indians hired by a committee to tow the balloon from gas-works two miles distant, where it had been filled. This was rather against the professor's judgment, for the Rideau River, flowing by the grounds, offered an obstacle that could be overcome only with the help of canoes and tow-lines; and to paddle a big balloon across a river, a fresh-filled, hard-tugging balloon, is not a thing to be undertaken lightly. And in spite of all their skill these Indians found themselves presently lifted into the air, canoes and all (oh, they were badly frightened Indians!), not quite clear of the water, but high enough to make it doubtful if they would ever reach sh.o.r.e, and highly interesting to the crowd which pressed down to the river, even into the river, in well-meant efforts to help, and dragged the balloon up the bank and along toward the platform with such eagerness that they tore great rents in it that let out the gas in volumes.

In an instant, as happens in crowds, the balloon became the center of a struggling ma.s.s of people, who slowly pressed in from all sides to see what the matter was. Now, when twenty-five thousand people are all pressing slowly toward one point, it is apt to fare ill with those at that point; and had not Carlotta acted on a flash of inspiration there would surely have been disaster in that merciless crush. She looked over the shouting, swaying mult.i.tude, and in a second saw the danger--saw women held helpless and fainting in that jam of bodies; saw one way, and only one, to save the situation, and took that way. Stepping off the platform, she ran lightly and swiftly over heads and shoulders, packed solid, and came to the balloon. Such was the people's fright that they scarcely felt her pa.s.s.

"You can't go up," cried her husband; "the balloon is a wreck."

"I must go up," she answered; "if I don't these people will be crushed to death."

"There's a hole in her big enough to drive a team through," he protested; but already she was in the basket, and a great cheer arose.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "IN SPITE OF ALL THEIR SKILL THESE INDIANS FOUND THEMSELVES PRESENTLY LIFTED INTO THE AIR, CANOES AND ALL."]

"It's better to risk one life than many," she answered with decision, and, turning to the crowd, motioned them to loose the car. In their wonder the mad mult.i.tude forgot their fear, and the struggling quieted.

All eyes were now on the balloon; one woman's courage had quelled the panic. The danger to the crowd was past, to the woman just beginning.

"Wait a moment," shouted Professor Myers; "you must have more ballast."

But in the din of voices she misunderstood him and cast out the last bag. Then, with a great heave and a flapping of its torn sides, the balloon wrenched itself free and shot upward, a cripple soaring with its last strength. Up and up it went, higher and higher as the small store of gas expanded. That tattered balloon, with its seams gaping open, raised itself somehow two miles over the city of Ottawa, and then almost immediately began to fall. The gas stayed in just long enough to lift the broken bag, and then left it to dash downward. Professor Myers, heart-sick on the ground, turned his eyes away, sure that he had seen his wife alive for the last time.

But Carlotta was of no such mind. She had saved the crowd, now she would save herself; and even as the balloon dropped with frightful speed, she put her plan into action. Swinging herself up on the netting, she caught the flapping silk above a long tear, and drew it down with all her weight until it reached the car. Instantly the air rushed in underneath, and bellied out the fabric into a great umbrella, a parachute improvised from a ripped balloon. Now they were slowing up; they had put the brakes on, and now they were soaring easily, drifting with the wind. Carlotta drew a long breath of relief and looked down. They were still a mile above ground. She had the runaway in hand, but where should she land him? Most aeronauts would have been thankful enough to get down alive anywhere; she proposed to do a feat of steering as well. No doubt there was some gas in the upper part of the bag to help her, but in the main she was guiding a parachute; and she guided it so skilfully by tipping the foot-board forward or back, to left or right, that she landed finally in a clump of evergreen-trees, some fifteen miles from Ottawa, that she had selected as the very place she proposed to land. And great were the rejoicings when it was known that she had come to no harm.

The story had an interesting sequel the following year, when Carlotta made another ascension from the same place.

"Where will you land this time?" one of the committee asked her.

Carlotta looked at the clouds a moment, then, smiling, said, "If you like, I will land exactly where I did last year."

This they all declared impossible, for the wind was strong in just the opposite direction; but Carlotta insisted she would land in that clump of evergreens and nowhere else. And she kept her word. She had observed that at a certain height the wind was favorable to her purpose, and by the same tactics of seeking the right wind-currents and by the same clever foot-board tipping she reached the point she was steering for, to the general wonder and admiration.

My acquaintance with Professor Myers has given me some light on a question often in my mind; that is, what kind of children these men have who follow careers of danger and daring. Will the son of a steeple-climber climb steeples? Will the daughter of a lion-tamer be afraid of a mouse? And so on. Of course, with both father and mother aeronauts, as in this case, it would be strange indeed if their child did not love balloons; and so it has turned out, for Miss Aerial Myers, now a girl in her teens, has already made various ascensions, and enjoys nothing better than soaring aloft on her father's skycycle, which she steers skilfully. Her first experience of a voyage in the air is memorable for two facts, that it nearly brought destruction to herself and her mother, and drew attention to an important but little-known fact in ballooning science.

It was some years ago, at the Syracuse County Fair, and a balloon race had been advertised between Carlotta and young Tysdell, an a.s.sistant of Professor Myers. For this event an enormous crowd had gathered on the grounds. And now (by what tears and pleadings who can say?) Miss Aerial, aged eleven, had persuaded her too fond mother to take her along, and off they went, amid cheers and wavings, with a strong breeze blowing, and the child peering down at the dwindling earth over the basket-side.

She watched the roads change into yellow streaks, and the hills swing up from back of the horizon, and the clouds spread away below them like a sea. She watched her mother take readings of compa.s.s and barometer, and as the wind swept them along to new view-points she would cry out, "Here comes another town, mama!" and clap her hands as the town raced by.

[Ill.u.s.tration: MME. CARLOTTA CALLS FOR a.s.sISTANCE FROM ANOTHER BALLOONIST THREE MILES AWAY.]

Tysdell won the race, having ballast in plenty to throw out, while Carlotta had little, since the extra lifting-power of her balloon was needed for Miss Aerial. Now, the difficulty of managing a balloon is much increased if you have no ballast, for then you cannot rise at will to enter a higher wind-current blowing the way you want to go, but must drift where the current you are in may take you. And the current they were in took them (such is the perversity of things) straight toward a deep and dangerous lake. Carlotta saw where they were going, but was powerless to prevent it. She could not throw Miss Aerial overboard like a sand-bag to make the balloon go higher, although she did throw overboard everything else that was movable, even to her jacket and shoes. Then, having done all that was possible, she waited, clutching the basket-sides with anxious fingers, and wondering if there was any way to safety.

Suddenly an idea came to her, and she scanned the heavens for Tysdell's balloon. No sight of it anywhere. Tysdell was three miles away, hidden by clouds. Nevertheless she lifted her voice and sent forth a loud cry, calling his name. Immediately the answer came, quite distinct. She explained their peril, and asked Tysdell if he could come to them. He said he would try, and questioned her where they were and what wind-currents had borne them. Carlotta told Tysdell to what height he must drop (she knew her own height by the barometer), and in a very few minutes, being able to rise and fall as he pleased, he was near the two other air-sailors, and got his balloon down by the lake-side in time to help them ash.o.r.e when they struck, as presently they did. The basket splashed the water, then skipped along the surface under the drag of the balloon, and was caught finally in the arms of a tree that reached out from the bank. And the only harm done was the spoiling of Miss Aerial's best frock!

Here was a case of conversation carried on easily between two balloons a mile or so above the earth and three miles apart. But other experiments made by Mme. Carlotta show that talking between balloons may go on over much greater distances, a reach of nearly eight miles having been accomplished on one occasion near Ogdensburg, New York. The explanation of this phenomenon is perfectly simple. Each balloon, while it is speaking, acts as a huge megaphone for the other, and each balloon, while it is listening, acts as a huge sounding-board for the other; and the tighter the balloons are kept under pressure of gas, the easier it is to make these great silken horns (for such they are) throw forth and receive the messages. It should be noted that this facility for voice transmission does not exist at great heights because of the rarefied air. At a mile above earth, however, this difficulty is not presented, and it may be that a superior kind of wireless telegraphy will be introduced some day by the use of talking balloons. Why not?

III

SOMETHING ABOUT EXPLOSIVE BALLOONS AND THE WONDERS OF HYDROGEN

ONE day the professor told me about some rainfall experiments with balloons that he conducted years ago for the government. There was a theory to be tested that loud explosions at a height will make the clouds pour down water, and some gentlemen in the Department of Agriculture were anxious to set off as loud an explosion as possible, say a thousand feet up in the air. Professor Myers received this commission, and proceeded at once to Washington with a gas-balloon twelve feet in diameter.

"Don't you think that balloon is rather small?" asked one of the gentlemen.

"No," said Myers; "I should call it rather large."

The other man shook his head. "I'm afraid it won't make noise enough to test our theory."

"Well," said the professor (I can see his eyes twinkling), "if this balloon doesn't make noise enough we'll get a bigger one."

They took the balloon some miles out of Washington (the professor insisted on this), filled it with a terribly explosive mixture of oxygen and hydrogen, and sent it up about a quarter of a mile, with an anchor-rope holding it and a wire hanging down to a little hand-dynamo or blasting-machine. As they made ready to turn this dynamo, Professor Myers lay flat on his back, eyes glued to the balloon, confident but curious. The handle turned, a spark jumped at the other end, and the ball of silk seemed to swell enormously and then vanish with a flash of a thousand shivers of silk. On this came the sound--a smashing and tearing blast louder than any thunder-crash or roar of cannon. It flattened men to the ground, killed hundreds of little fish in a stream near by (bursting their air-bladders), knocked over a bowling-alley like a house of cards, frightened cattle, and brought down rain in torrents within eight minutes. The Agricultural gentlemen were more than satisfied, and adopted the professor's system for extended rainfall experiments--only these (for obvious reasons) were removed to the lonely and arid plains of distant Texas.

"It wasn't much fun living down there," said the professor; "but we got rain whenever we wanted it."

"What would happen," I inquired, "if a very large balloon filled with this explosive mixture were set off over a crowded city?"

The professor shook his head in his awed contemplation of this possibility. "It would work fearful destruction. If large enough (and there is no difficulty in obtaining such a size), it would wipe out of existence whole blocks of houses and the people in them. It would destroy an army."

In the course of our talks I discovered a mystic side, very unexpected, in the professor's nature. He used to speak of hydrogen, for instance, with a certain almost reverence, as if it were something endowed with life and consciousness, a powerful spirit, one would say, not merely a commonplace product of chemistry, a gas from a retort.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A BALLOON-PICNIC AT THE AeRONAUTS' HOME.]

"I have often wondered," he said one day, "as my basket has swept me along, what there is in this silken bag above me that lifts me thus over mountains and cities. I look up into the balloon through the open mouth, and I see nothing; I hear nothing; I smell nothing. None of my senses answer any call; yet somehow, strangely, in a way I can't explain, I _perceive_ a presence. It would not be at all the same to me were the balloon filled with air, though it would be the same to all my senses. Again and again I have noted this thing, that hydrogen makes itself known to men when they are near it."

He paused a moment as if to observe my att.i.tude, to see if it were one of scoffing. I made no remark, but begged him to go on.

"After all," he continued, "even the books allow to hydrogen properties that are very amazing. It is the lightest of all things; it pa.s.ses through and beyond all things; it is the nearest approach we know of to absolute nothing. Who can say that it is not related to the land of nothing, to--" He hesitated.

"You mean?" said I.

"I don't know what I mean. I only wonder. Take this case that happened at Ogdensburg, New York, during an ascension we made there. We had filled the balloon with hydrogen, and were just ready to start when the valve-cords that hang down inside the bag from the valve at the top became twisted and drew up out of reach from the basket. In vain I tried to get them free by poking at them with sticks and long-handled things; the cords would not come down, and of course no sane man would make an ascension with his balloon-valve beyond control. There was nothing for it but to get inside that great gas-bag and undo the tangle with my hands. So I called fifteen or twenty men to catch hold of the netting and pull the struggling balloon down over me until I could reach the cords. Then I--"

"Wait a minute," I interrupted. "Were you standing inside the balloon so that you had to breathe hydrogen?"

The professor smiled. "I stood inside the balloon, but I breathed nothing; I held my breath, which is one of the things I have practised.