Illustrated Science for Boys and Girls Part 6

The line must be shortened so we could clear the tree-tops. All three tugged at the rope. Then other lashings were made while the great aerostat plunged about like a wounded leviathan. We were eighty feet from the ground. Two of us found it convenient to go down the drag-rope, but the poor Professor, tall and heavy, preferred to try the tree. This was wet and slippery, as well as full of projecting points of broken branches. About twenty feet from the ground the Professor's clothes caught. He was in a great dilemma.

Amid a good deal of laughter we managed to liberate him, and as he reached the ground he exclaimed: "Well, of all the sc.r.a.pes I was ever in, this is about the meanest!"

But help came even here. Far down the slope we heard a shout, which you may be sure was quickly answered. Then, after a while, the bushes parted and a half-score of woodsmen carrying gleaming axes ran to our aid. They were all thoroughly wet, like ourselves.

"What can we do for you?" they asked.

"Cut down half a dozen of these pines. I want to save the balloon,"

answered the aeronaut.

Then you should have seen the chips fly! Down came the trees, one after the other, and finally the one to which our steed was lashed. The gas soon escaped through great holes torn by the limbs, and our gallant craft was robbed of its power. Standing upon one of the fallen trees I made the sketch you see before you.

We found upon inquiring that we had landed in Potter county, Pennsylvania; and consulting our watches, found we had travelled one hundred and twenty-five miles in about two hours.

We were made comfortable at a lumberman's cabin,

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE WRECK OF THE "BUFFALO."]

and managed to get out of the woods in a couple of days where we could telegraph to our friends.

It cannot be denied that after the excitement had pa.s.sed we felt very much like an old farmer who listened to our adventures. He said:

"Mebbe some folks prefer to travel in a flying Beelzebub, but I'm willin'

to git along in a buck-board with a good road to put my feet agin when I git off."

_You'll_ say, now, "I guess that race was enough for you!" But you're wrong; for I've had several trips since; and now you've a perfect right to retort, "Well! you are a bigger _balloonatic_ than I took you for."

Perhaps you're right.

AUGUST'S "'SPERIMENT."

August _was_ rather a troublesome boy. Generous and jolly,--his playmates called him a firstrate good fellow, but older people complained that he was curious, meddlesome, and always "cluttering round."

But here is mamma's opinion:

"August was born to be busy. He is inventive too. He asks questions to gain information, and he handles things to see how they are made."

"What is he tinkering at now, mamma?" asked Tom. "He has got hold of an old, old book, full of _f ss_, and all yellow; he's rigged two pans in a barrel, and bought a naptha lamp, and locked us all out of the attic."

"And he just came in with a covered basket, mamma," said Katie, "carrying it ever so carefully. I was jumping rope in the hall, and he asked me not to joggle. What do you suppose he was doing, mamma?"

"Suppose we wait till he tells us," said mamma, smiling.

"He's only trying some of his 'speriments," said wise little Robbie, aged five.

After the children went out, mamma took up her work and sat down by the window, watching the three outside, and waiting for her oldest boy, August, who presently came to take her into his confidence.

"Mamma, I am trying an experiment."

"And is that something new, August?" with an encouraging smile.

"But the _kind_ is new, mamma. Did you ever hear of Reaumur?"

"Who wrote that curious old book on the art of hatching fowls by artificial incubation? Yes, August."

"Then will you come and see, mamma, what _I_ have begun to do?"

He led the way, two steps at a time, to the attic. When they reached the door, August drew from his pocket a key, and unlocked it and led his mother in.

A flour-barrel stood in the centre of the floor, closely covered. August removed the cover, and lifted up a piece of carpet. His mother looked in.

Within the barrel was suspended a large, deep pan, resting on three iron cleats. This pan was partly filled with hot water, and floating on the water was another pan--a shallow one--which contained a layer of sand an inch deep. Over this was spread a piece of linen cloth, and in the cloth thirty-six large Brahma eggs lay closely packed. In the center stood a neat thermometer.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE INCUBATOR.]

"You have made your arrangements very neatly, August," said mamma. "Of course I do not understand them exactly."

"Well, you see, mamma, this shallow pan gets its heat from the water beneath it. I put that in hot, and keep it just right with this lamp."

Saying which, he knelt in front of the barrel, and opened a neat little door, fitted with a bra.s.s k.n.o.b and hinges.

Stooping down and looking in, his mother saw on a tall flower-pot, which stood upside down, a naptha safety-lamp sending forth a small, steady flame.

"That keeps the temperature about equable;" said August, "but I have another lamp, larger than this, to use in case my incubator grows too cool."

"When did you set them?" asked mamma.

"This morning."

"To-day is the first of March: then if no accident happens, and the eggs are good, you expect them to hatch on the twenty-first?"

"Yes, mamma, and the eggs are all right because I told Grandma I wanted some _very_ fresh, and she saved them for me."

"Did Grandma know of your experiment?"

"Oh! no, mamma. Not a soul but you knows about it; and I want you to keep the secret until we know how it will turn out."

"Very well!" said mamma; "but if you lock the door you had better leave the key with me in case anything should happen. I will look at your incubator occasionally while you are at school."

August gave his mother a grateful look--he felt so encouraged by her sympathy.

"How warm do you keep the eggs?" she asked as he carefully replaced the carpet and cover.

"Reaumur says at 32, that is about 103 1-2 Fahrenheit.[A]"