A hideous experience while it lasted, those vicious currents
dragging the aerostat upward out of the air-chamber by means of
grapnel and rope, then casting all far away in company with
wrecked trees and bushes, and even solider materials, all
shrouded for a time in dust and debris, which hindered the
eyesight of both uncle and nephews.

Through it all the brothers were dimly aware of one fact uncle
Phaeton was shrilly bidding them cling fast and have courage.

All at once they felt as though vomited forth from a volcano
which alternately breathed fire and ice, the clear light of
evening bursting upon their aching, smarting eyes with actual
pain, while that horrid roar of warring elements seemed to pass
away in the distance, leaving them--where, and how?

"We're falling to--merciful heavens! Hold fast, all!" screamed
the professor, desperately striving to regain full command of
their air-ship. "The tiller is jammed, but--"

To all seeming, the aerostat had sustained some fatal damage
during that brief eruption caused by the professor's little
experiment, for it was pitching drunkenly end for end, refusing
to obey the hand of its builder, bearing all to certain death
upon the earth far below.

Half stupefied with fear, the brothers clung fast to the
life-line and glared downward, noting, in spite of themselves,
how swiftly yonder dark tree-tops and gray crags were shooting