The balloon went up still higher; it surmounted the
dangerous ridge, and the rays of the sun shone upon its
uppermost extremity; but the car was still below the level
of certain broken masses of rock, against which it would
inevitably be dashed.
"Kennedy! Kennedy! throw out your fire-arms, or
we are lost!" shouted the doctor.
"Wait, sir; wait one moment!" they heard Joe exclaim,
and, looking around, they saw Joe disappear over
the edge of the balloon.
"Joe! Joe!" cried Kennedy.
"Wretched man!" was the doctor's agonized expression.
The flat top of the mountain may have had about
twenty feet in breadth at this point, and, on the other
side, the slope presented a less declivity. The car just
touched the level of this plane, which happened to be quite
even, and it glided over a soil composed of sharp pebbles
that grated as it passed.
"We're over it! we're over it! we're clear!" cried out
an exulting voice that made Ferguson's heart leap to his
throat.
The daring fellow was there, grasping the lower rim of
the car, and running afoot over the top of the mountain,
thus lightening the balloon of his whole weight. He had
to hold on with all his strength, too, for it was likely to
escape his grasp at any moment.
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