The Bamberg herald. [volume] (Bamberg, S.C.) 1891-1972, 1911-05-04

through the tunnel and the balloon
tore itself out of the hands of the
ballast men. The balloon wobbled
up.
A muttering shout ran through
the crowd for the tension was at it's
height, and a man from their midst
was about to be whisked up into the
heavens. Women threw up their
hands and shouted out words Of
warning.
Hold on tight" called out an old
man leaning on a gnarled cane for
support.
"Oh. know he will be killed."
sobbed a woman, turning away her
eyes.
"Let Go, or You Will be Killed."
But all this was met with at every
performance and served in no way to
unstring Scanion's nerves. All his
mind and energies were bent on
clearing the buildings and tree tops.
LET her 60, boys" he called out
over the exclamations of the people,
and the cracking of the fire. "Cut
loose"
Running back Scanion picked up
the brass trapeze rod and seated
himself on it, one hand on each
rope. Then as the balloon slipped
up into the air he ran forward under
it, the long-folded parachute tug
ging him gently, thus saving him
self from being dragged over the
ground. There had not been hitch,
the weather was perfect, he was get
ting a good start. The ascent SEEM
ed no different from a dozen others
he had made.
But there is where the risk of a
balloon jumper comes in. He nev-
er knows what moment something
will happen.
Suddenly a drunken man burst
through the crowd and threw his
arms around Scanion.
He was a big muscular man and
in his eyes was the look of an intox-
icated man who cares not the least
what happens. Scanion had to grasp
the ropes on the end of the bar to
be kept from being pulled out back
ward.
The parachute bar was just being
lifted off the ground, and Scanion
had no way to fight back except by
kicking.
"Let loose, let loose" he yelled
frantically, but the man only tight
ened his grip and buried his face in
Scanion's spangles, afraid to look
down.
For a moment the crowd stood
too Mortified to move, then several
of the men, coming to themselves,
rushed out and sprang wildly at the
drunken mans feet. But they miss
ed and in a second more the balloon
had risen above the tops of the trees
and the two men over the heads of
the people.
"Let go or you will be killed."
cried Scanion, squirming in the mans
grasp and kicking as best he could.
But the man held on grimly without
answering word.
The horror Of it flashed through
Scanion's mind and made him fight
more resolutely. Here he was sit
ting on a brass mob 20 feet under
the balloon, riding a balloon built
for only $50 pounds, plus the weight
of the parachute, and he himself was
overweight by 10 pounds. The man
clinging to his arms must weigh at
at least 10 pounds.
To make the ascent this way would
be absolute folly. So he redoubled
his energies toward kicking off the
unwelcome' passenger. Letting go
of one hand he clung to one swing
ing, bending rope and with the 9TH
er hand tried to tear apart the mans
fingers, kicking him madly in the
thighs with his heels.
drop, drop, you can make it yet" ("
called out Scanion, almost out Of
breath.
But the man paid no heed, holding
on as grimly as death itself. Catch
ing hold of one of the mans hands
Scanion tore it away. The man
freed his hand and fastened it in
another place. Surging back and
forth, Scanion tried to wriggle out
of the mans grasp, the combined
weight sending a wave clear up to
the balloon like quick jerk travel
ing along a rope. Breathing with
quick intakes of breath, partly from
exhaustion and partly from the ef-
fects of the liquor, the man clung to