"Yes"--from Duncan--"but we should have somebody to meet us when we got on sh.o.r.e there. But we don't know where this aerial tour may end."

"Well, we're going high enough anyhow," said Frank. "And," he added, "I'm not half so funky as I thought I'd be. I've often thought, mind you, that I'd like the going up in a balloon, 'cause there is plenty of sky-room, and nothing to knock your head against. It was the thoughts of alighting on earth again that always had terrors for me, hitting against poplar-trees and steeples and such, or spiked on the weather-c.o.c.k of a town-hall and left to kick. But this is glorious, and I suppose we'll get down all straight."

Duncan held down his hand to Viking, and the honest dog licked it with his soft tongue.

"It is so good of you to take me, master," he seemed to say. "I don't know where in all the world you're off to, but you're here, and that's good enough for old Vike."

"I say, Duncan," said Conal, "aren't we taking an easterly direction?"

Duncan was rated "captain of the car", so all questions were referred to him.

"It really looks a little like it," was the reply, "unless the island down yonder, with our dear friends on it, has broken adrift, and is bound for the mainland."

They could talk lightly, almost joyously now, so bracing was the air, and so delicious the sensation of floating through s.p.a.ce.

"I say, captain," said Frank, "hadn't we better put another man to the wheel, and tack and half tack for a time. Or suppose we lie to, eh?"

"Providence is at the wheel, Frank, but we're at the mercy of every breeze that may blow."

They were evidently being driven out to sea, but there was no help for it.

And so easterwards, ever easterwards, they drifted for many hours. The island itself was now but a little dark dot on the blue, and several other islets had come into view, and latterly, oh, joy! a steamer.

Evidently on her way to China or j.a.pan!

Could they communicate?

In case of meeting a ship, several tin flagons had been prepared and ballasted, with letters in them.

The balloon was drifting but slowly now, and seemed to be on the turn.

Signals were accordingly made, while Conal, with the telescope, kept the ship's quarter-deck well under observation.

"Ha!" he cried, "they see us, and are signalling back."

Overboard now were thrown not one flask only, but three, and each would tell the same story of the ship-wrecked mariners, dying slowly for want of water on the lonely island far to the west. The lat.i.tude and longitude of this was given also.

It was evident that the flasks fell near the ship, for presently they could see a boat lowered, as if to pick them up. It soon returned to the ship and was hauled up.

But for a long time those in the balloon waited in vain for a signal.

It came at last. A flag--bright red--was hoisted to the peak and rapidly lowered again.

Then the ship held on its course.

"Gracious heavens!" cried Duncan excitedly, "they are leaving our poor friends to their fate."

"I do not believe it possible," said Frank.

"No, it cannot be. See, see, they have stopped ship."

This was true. And it was evident also that a consultation was being held on board, as to whether they should really alter their course, and seek for the uninhabited island and perishing mariners or not.

"I know how it is," said Duncan. "It is, as usual, a question of money, like everything else in the world. That is no doubt a mail steamer, and the loss of time means a heavy fine, even though they might prove they had been on an errand of mercy."

But to their infinite joy our heroes saw at last the ship's prow turned westwards.

Night fell now, down on the sea that is. For at the great alt.i.tude which they had attained the sun was still visible.

The very last thing they noted was that the captain of that steamer had apparently changed his mind once more, and that the vessel was stopped.

There she lay without or breath or motion

"As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean".

"Cruel! cruel!" cried Frank.

"We must not judge," said Duncan. "Down there it is now almost dark, and in mercy let us believe they are merely dodging to await the moonrise.

When day returned, the brave balloonists found themselves not over the sea any longer, but over a dense dark forest of Africa's mainland.

During the darkness a strange kind of stupor had weighed their eyelids down, and every one had slept.

But the balloon had changed its course, and was now driving inland on the wings of an easterly wind.

By aid of the telescope they could just perceive a long line of blue 'twixt the sky and the greenery of the woods.

But this itself soon disappeared as the balloon kept floating westwards and away.

The last thing they had done was to throw over the car at intervals, as they swept on, no less than six tell-tale flasks, and each had a little white flag over it.

But now came the question--what was to be done? Would it not be better at once to attempt a descent, and make their way eastwards through the forests and across the streams, which they could see here and there like silver strips among the woods and hills.

It was a question that needed some little consideration.

To alight in a forest did not seem feasible. Here, to say nothing of the danger of such a descent, they could find no natives to help them, and they should be exposed to the attacks of wild beasts and venomous reptiles.

They could see mountains far ahead, and among these there would doubtless be many an inhabited glen; so they agreed to keep on for a few hours longer.

"Besides," said Duncan, "there is a chance of a change of wind, which will blow us coastwards far more quickly than we could ever get on foot."

All hands were hungry, so breakfast would be a most enjoyable pastime.

Something more than a pastime, however. They settled down to it seriously, poor Viking standing up to receive his share.

Breakfast in a balloon--how strange it seems!

What did they have to eat? Enough and to spare, but, saving the biscuits--a considerable percentage of which was weevils fresh and alive--all else was tinned meat.