On our right hand we hear a deep
moan, still distant, but rapidly approaching every moment. It is
undoubtedly the rushing of the wind. A fresh breeze for five
minutes would bring us to the sea.
"We experienced another shock not less formidable than the first.
The 'Geant' is trembling from its effects. The cable of our
first anchor has just broken like a piece of thread. We could
not hope for a better result. The violence of the wind which is
carrying us along seems to be redoubled. A bump: another and
another--then shock after shock.
"'The second dead men!'
"Our swift pace was shock after shock.
"'The anchor is lost,' cries Jules; 'we are all dead men!
"This truth is too palpable to all of us to require expressing in
so many words, for we are just commencing that furious, tearing
course called 'trailing.'
"Our swift pace was considerably accelerated by the lower part of
the balloon, which--limp, empty, and forming nearly a third of
the whole--had been set free at the first shock, and flapped
against the distended part, acting as a sail. The shocks
continued to multiply so fast that it was impossible to count
them. The car continued to rebound from these shocks to the
height of five, ten, sometimes thirty, forty, and even fifty
feet, for all the world like an India-rubber ball from the hands
of an indefatigable player.
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