The flood of
fire in which we had descended was instantly extinguished; and we awoke
to a sense of our possible safety in darkness rendered doubly profound
by the contrast.
Daylight was near at hand. By a careful adjustment of our weights we
kept the balloon from rolling, and sustained ourselves above the water
among the netting. As morning came, we discovered we had landed in a
small lake, hardly large enough to be dignified with the name, but
obviously of considerable depth. The shore was not distant: and as the
day was sultry, with a little grateful labor at swimming and towing, on
the part of a few of us, we soon reached it. There we examined into
each other's condition. Scarce one of us but was able to show damage by
fire, or from too rough contact with the fragments of the "Flying
Cloud," which preceded us in our plunge into the lake. But no bones
were broken, and no one badly flayed. The case of the engineer was the
worst; but even he was able to keep upon his feet, and pronounced in no
danger.
No hut or field or sign of inhabitants was to be seen. With mixed
feelings, in which, for the present at least, the sense of personal
safety triumphed over all regrets, even with Messrs. Bonflon and De
Aery, at the shipwreck of so many brilliant hopes, we scuttled that
part of our craft still afloat, and sunk it in the lake; and with weary
footsteps, but unobstructed with baggage, as near as we could determine
by the aid of a compass, took the direction toward San Francisco.
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