Already we were approaching the sand-dunes,
the very spot for an easy descent if we could descend.
"Gosh, I've done it!"
Above I could hear the soft, sibilant sound of the escaping gas, not
unlike the hiss of a snake. I was also sensible that my heart, not to
mention other important organs, was trying to get into my throat.
"Valve must ha' bust," said the old man. "Stand by to throw out
ballast."
The bottom of the car was covered with sacks of sand. Ordinarily one
unties the sacks and the sand is allowed to trickle out in a harmless
stream. I peered over the side. The balloon was now, so to speak, on
an even keel, falling almost perpendicularly. I saw, far down, a flash
of blue.
"Chuck 'em out, boys!"
Several sacks went overboard, and at once my solar plexus felt easier.
Again I peered down and saw nothing. The fog had engulfed us, but I
could hear the crash of the big combers as they broke upon the rocks
to the north of Avila.
What followed took place within a few seconds. We were encompassed by
thick dank fog. The balloon was perfectly steady, descending less
quickly, but with inexorable certainty, into the ocean.
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