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