It still rose
more than two hundred feet over the aeronauts.
"In ten minutes," said the doctor to himself, "our car
will be dashed against those rocks unless we succeed in
passing them!"
"Well, doctor?" queried Joe.
"Keep nothing but our pemmican, and throw out all
the heavy meat."
Thereupon the balloon was again lightened by some
fifty pounds, and it rose very perceptibly, but that was of
little consequence, unless it got above the line of the
mountain-tops. The situation was terrifying. The Victoria
was rushing on with great rapidity. They could
feel that she would be dashed to pieces--that the shock
would be fearful.
The doctor glanced around him in the car. It was
nearly empty.
"If needs be, Dick, hold yourself in readiness to throw
over your fire-arms!"
"Sacrifice my fire-arms?" repeated the sportsman,
with intense feeling.
"My friend, I ask it; it will be absolutely necessary!"
"Samuel! Doctor!"
"Your guns, and your stock of powder and ball might
cost us our lives."
"We are close to it!" cried Joe.
Sixty feet! The mountain still overtopped the balloon
by sixty feet.
Joe took the blankets and other coverings and tossed
them out; then, without a word to Kennedy, he threw
over several bags of bullets and lead.
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