The Man from the Clouds by J. Storer (Joseph Storer) Clouston
page 9 of 246 (03%)
page 9 of 246 (03%)
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And so the hours slowly passed; always the same mist and generally the same silence. Occasionally we talked a little, and then for a long space our voices would cease and there would be utter and absolute quiet,--not the smallest sound of any sort or kind. We had been silent for a long, long time and I had done quite as much thinking as was good for my nerves, when Rutherford suddenly exclaimed, "We are over land!" He was looking over the edge of the basket, and instantly I was staring into space on my side. There was certainly nothing to see but mist. "I can smell land," said he, "and I heard something just now." "At this height!" I exclaimed. "We are down to well under six thousand feet," said he. I wanted to be convinced, but this was more than I could believe. "The smell must be devilish strong," I observed. "And I'm afraid I must have a cold in my head. Besides, it's only five-thirty." As I have said, poor Rutherford was the most positive fellow in the world. He stuck to it that we were over land, but I managed to persuade him to wait a little longer to make sure. He waited half an hour and when he spoke then I could see that his mind was made up. "We are falling pretty rapidly," said he, "and personally I'd sooner take |
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