"Now," ordered Ned, "start your engine and head the car over the
opening."
While Ned stood below directing, with hands to his mouth,
trumpet-wise, the Cibola strained at her anchor rope and then,
obeying her rudder, moved directly over the open space, her nose
pointing skyward at an angle of forty-five degrees.
"Hold her," yelled Ned, "and haul back."
The boys again strained at the taut anchor rope until the car stood
just clear of the trees and some two hundred feet in the air.
"Now lower your drag rope and an empty ballast bag," called Ned.
While this was being done the navigator of the Cibola was busy
carrying chunks of broken rock from the margin of the little lake,
and in a short time the boys above were hauling away on the rope and
lifting aboard new ballast. With each bag of it the Cibola sank
lower and lower, until finally, when it was almost balanced in the
air, Ned easily drew the balloon to the ground.
But the landing was not yet finished. Not a passenger in the craft
could step ashore until Ned had added more stone. But when enough
of this had been lifted up to the hands above, and Elmer could
alight, the two willing workers on the ground soon made it possible
for the other boys to spring overboard.
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