“Now that you’ve had your adventure, do you feel any better?” I remember asking when we had changed our clothes and were sitting dry and comfortable again in the cockpit.

“Well, if I don’t have the nightmare for a week to come”—­Paul paused and puckered his brows in judicial fashion—­“it will be because I can’t sleep, that’s one thing sure!”

AN ADVENTURE IN THE UPPER SEA

I am a retired captain of the upper sea.  That is to say, when I was a younger man (which is not so long ago) I was an aeronaut and navigated that aerial ocean which is all around about us and above us.  Naturally it is a hazardous profession, and naturally I have had many thrilling experiences, the most thrilling, or at least the most nerve-racking, being the one I am about to relate.

It happened before I went in for hydrogen gas balloons, all of varnished silk, doubled and lined, and all that, and fit for voyages of days instead of mere hours.  The “Little Nassau” (named after the “Great Nassau” of many years back) was the balloon I was making ascents in at the time.  It was a fair-sized, hot-air affair, of single thickness, good for an hour’s flight or so and capable of attaining an altitude of a mile or more.  It answered my purpose, for my act at the time was making half-mile parachute jumps at recreation parks and country fairs.  I was in Oakland, a California town, filling a summer’s engagement with a street railway company.  The company owned a large park outside the city, and of course it was to its interest to provide attractions which would send the townspeople over its line when they went out to get a whiff of country air.  My contract called for two ascensions weekly, and my act was an especially taking feature, for it was on my days that the largest crowds were drawn.

Before you can understand what happened, I must first explain a bit about the nature of the hot air balloon which is used for parachute jumping.  If you have ever witnessed such a jump, you will remember that directly the parachute was cut loose the balloon turned upside down, emptied itself of its smoke and heated air, flattened out and fell straight down, beating the parachute to the ground.  Thus there is no chasing a big deserted bag for miles and miles across the country, and much time, as well as trouble, is thereby saved.  This maneuver is accomplished by attaching a weight, at the end of a long rope, to the top of the balloon.  The aeronaut, with his parachute and trapeze, hangs to the bottom of the balloon, and, weighing more, keeps it right side down.  But when he lets go, the weight attached to the top immediately drags the top down, and the bottom, which is the open mouth, goes up, the heated air pouring out.  The weight used for this purpose on the “Little Nassau” was a bag of sand.