The hurling of the bomb overboard had shot the Cibola heavenward
like a bird. Before they realized it the aeronauts had mounted up
at least two thousand feet. They then began maneuvering to regain
their position. But this was not so easy. A flash of the suspended
searchlight gave them not a trace of their bearings and it was
plainly apparent they would have to use time and patience in
recovering the location of the besieged wagon. Using their best
judgment, they put the aeroplanes to work, and, circling slowly, the
Cibola gradually came nearer and nearer to the ground. After ten
minutes or more the car gave a sharp bound upward.
"The drag has touched the ground," exclaimed Ned.
The aeroplanes were righted, the engine was stopped, and again the
balloon was drifting. There was not a sound to guide the aeronauts.
The contact with the ground had broken the bulb and it was not
replaced. For aught the rescuers knew they might be again directly
over the wagon. Not a shot had been fired since the roar of the
explosion, but there was no reason to believe that the yet living
besiegers had withdrawn.
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