PERSONAL EXPERIENCES
A BALLOON ADVENTURE. I have been round the world several times in my younger days, and I have had many strange adventures and hairbreadth escapes at sea, but the narrowest escape from death I ever had occurred on land,, or rather in the air. In those days I was known as Captain F , the famous aeronaut, and I was billed for a series of ascents at a town, then as now, famous as a seaside resort. The wind blew out to sea for the first two days, and no ascent could be made until the third day, when, the wind being favourable I made a splendid ascent, descending about seven miles inland, on good ground close to a village. A small crowd quickly gathered, and whilst I was preparing to empty the balloon of gas someone struck a match ! Instantly the balloon was a mass of flames, and, the gas expanding, the balloon shot into the air. taking me with it. Luckily it quickly settled down again, and beyond a few slight burns I was little the worse. The balloon was completely destroyed,, and the experience, while It lasted, was one I shall not readily forget. A SURPRISE FOR THE WIFE. I am an agent for a parcels delivery company, and in consequence of having to handle rough packages, always wear clothes that are perhaps more serviceable than elegant. My personal appearance on coining home after the day's work did not meet with my wife’s approval, and she was continually asking me to attire myself in more presentable clothes. Her importunity was too much for me, and I gave in. Thinking to afford her a pleasant surprise, I secretly ordered a new suit from Liverpool, determining to change into it while my Van (a large covered one) was on the ferryboat crossing the river Mersey, a journey of about fifteen minutes. As soon as the boat started, I climbed Into the van, carefully fastened the door, and proceeded hurriedly to disrobe ; then having tied my garments in a bundle, I put my arm through the door and quickly dumped them Into the river. But judge of my consternation, when looking among the parcels around me for that containing the new suit, I found that it had been left behind in the city depot. There was I, in vest and pants, and how was I to drive through the streets in that rig out ? Fortunately the van boy heard my signal, and drive me home as I was, and my wife got her surprise, for she saw mo emerge from the van wrapped in a horse rug. A RAND MINER’S STORY. Although it is now seventeen years ago, the following facts are still vividly impressed on my memory. In 1894 I was employed by one of the great Rand mines in sinking a shaft. As it was only a email affair, the quartz was raised by a windlass, with rope and bucket. I had got down about forty of fifty feet, and had with me six natives. Unfortunately they were all fresh from their kraals, having never seen any mining before. At the end of the shift, I went down to charge and light the six fuses, but before doing so I looked up and saw the natives looking down, interested in my operations, and I asked whether they were ready to raise me. Being answered in the affirmative, I lighted the fuses, and with one foot in the bucket, shouted, "Raise.” The heads had gone from the moqjh of the shaft, and the rope remained slack. I again shouted, for I knew in at most two minutes the dynamite charges would explode. It occurred to me to climb the rope, but I realised that I would be knocked down by the first concussion. After what seemed an agony, the bucket suddenly jolted up, and I found myself being raised to the surface. When I was about ten feet from the top bang ! bang ! went the shots. I held on, being knocked from one side of the winze to the other, and was soon hauled clear. It afterwards transpired that the raw natives, seeing the fuses flash, expected an explosion straight away, so had run off. A white man and an experienced native seeing them running, and thinking I might be down the shaft, came to investigate, and, hearing my shouts, hurriedly raised me. I always took care afterwards, before I lighted up, that a white man was at the surface. ON THE RIFLE RANGE. 1 was at one time a member of a Volunteers’ corps, and was for some time a marker on the firing range. One day a large, party of volunteers came down to fire their "class,” including two of my own brothers. From the marker’s hut I could see the target by looking through a plate of thick glass. The men were firing at a distance of two hundred yards. Now by crawling on my stomach round the corner of my hut I could easily see who was firing. It was risky, and as I afterwards found, dangerous too, But I had often played this little dodge, so that my brothers made some remarkable scores. On this occasion I was, as usual, adopting the old methods, and just as I raised my head to glance up the range, something struck and glanced off the bridge of my nose. Feeling as though someone had touched me with a red-hot poker, I popped my head quickly out of sight, and by feeling very tenderly, I found to my intense relief that "nosey" was still there, but bleeding a good deal. The men were waiting for me to signal the shot, and firing had ceased in consequence. I crawled back—how I managed it I don’t know—and, not caring whether it was stranger or brother who fired that shot, I marked it a bull. I finished 1 my turn
of duty and returned home unseen by my comrades. I still have the scar to remind me of the silliest thing I ever did in my life. HE CHANCED IT. When on board the transport Tagus on our way out to South Africa, we anchored at Las Palmas to coal. The men amused themselves during the coaling operations by shying lumps of coal at the sharks swimming round the ship on the lookout for anything thrown overboard. The day was terribly hot, and as wci steamed out of the anchorage, one of the cook’s mates went suddenly mad, attacked the men in the galley with a knife, and then rushed out upon deck and jumped overboard, without an instant’s thought, in fact before the cry of “Man overboard had ceased, a yeomanry trooper kicked off his deck slippers and dived after him. Only a moment before he had been shying lumps of coal at the fin of a shark which was following the ship. From the deck we saw- him reach the man, and a struggle took place, the madman trying to drown his rescuer. In the meantime the ship had stopped and a boat w a s launched. As the boat neared the men the sentry on the bridge sang out that a shark was making for the men, and raising his rifle he took a shot a t it. Then commenced a race between the boat and the shark. Luckily the boat reached the men first, and they were hauled on board. When they came alongside and the yeoman climbed on board cheer after cheer rang out. The poor mad man was hauled up unconscious, and was still mad when we landed him at the Cape. A collection was made for the yeoman, who, when asked afterwards why he dived after the man knowing there were sharks about, answered shortly, “Oh i I chanced it !*’
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Bibliographic details
Cromwell Argus, Volume XLIII, Issue 2283, 5 February 1912, Page 7
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1,307PERSONAL EXPERIENCES Cromwell Argus, Volume XLIII, Issue 2283, 5 February 1912, Page 7
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