The horses turned about and moved off and the balloon rose. As for the
lieutenant, he spun round and ran toward the edge of the field, fumbling
at his belt for his private field glasses as he ran. Wondering what all
this bother was about--though I had a vague idea regarding its meaning--
I watched the ascent.
I should say the bag had reached a height of five hundred feet when,
behind me, a hundred yards or so away, a soldier shrieked out excitedly.
Farther along another voice took up the outcry. From every side of the
field came shouts. The field was ringed with clamor. It dawned on me
that this spot was even more efficiently guarded than I had conceived it
to be.
The driver of the wagon swung his lumbering team about with all the
strength of his arms, and back again came the six horses, galloping now.
So thickly massed were the men who snatched at the cable, and so eagerly
did they grab for it, that the simile of a hot handball scrimmage
flashed into my thoughts. I will venture that balloon never did a
faster homing job than it did then.
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