Then you should have seen the chips fly! Down came the trees, one after the other, and finally the one to which our steed was lashed. The gas soon escaped through great holes torn by the limbs, and our gallant craft was robbed of its power. Standing upon one of the fallen trees I made the sketch you see before you.
We found upon inquiring that we had landed in Potter county, Pennsylvania; and consulting our watches, found we had travelled one hundred and twenty-five miles in about two hours.
We were made comfortable at a lumberman’s cabin,
THE WRECK OF THE “BUFFALO.”
and managed to get out of the woods in a couple of days where we could telegraph to our friends.
It cannot be denied that after the excitement had passed we felt very much like an old farmer who listened to our adventures. He said:
“Mebbe some folks prefer to travel in a flying Beelzebub, but I’m willin’ to git along in a buck-board with a good road to put my feet agin when I git off.”