Instead of making reply such as might have been expected from one
of his mathematical exactness, Professor Featherwit gave a cry of
dismay, while hurriedly moving to and fro in their contracted
quarters, for the time being forgetful of all other than this,
his great loss.

"What is it, uncle Phaeton?" asked Bruno, rising to his knees in
natural anxiety. "Surely nothing worse than has already happened
to us?"

"Worse? What could be worse than losing for ever--the camera,
boys; where is the camera, I ask you?"

Certainly not where the professor was looking, and even as he
roared forth that query, his heart told him the sad truth; past
doubting, the instrument upon whose aid he relied to place upon
record these marvellous facts, so that all mankind might see and
have full faith, was lost,--thrown from the aerostat, to meet
with certain destruction, when the vessel first came within the
tornado's terrible clutch.

"Gone,--lost,--and now who will believe that we ever--oh, this is
enough to crush one's very soul!" mourned the professor, throwing
up his hands, and sinking back to the floor of the flying-machine
in a limp and disheartened heap for the time being.

Neither Bruno nor Waldo could fully appreciate that grief, since
thoughts and care for self were still the ruling passion with
both; but once more they were called upon to do battle with the
swaying of the winds, and once again were they saved only through