Wondering what all this bother was about--though I had a vague idea regarding its meaning-- I watched the ascent.
I should say the bag had reached a height of five hundred feet when, behind me, a hundred yards or so away, a soldier shrieked out excitedly.
Farther along another voice took up the outcry.

From every side of the field came shouts.

The field was ringed with clamor.

It dawned on me that this spot was even more efficiently guarded than I had conceived it to be.
The driver of the wagon swung his lumbering team about with all the strength of his arms, and back again came the six horses, galloping now.
So thickly massed were the men who snatched at the cable, and so eagerly did they grab for it, that the simile of a hot handball scrimmage flashed into my thoughts.

I will venture that balloon never did a faster homing job than it did then.
Fifty men were pointing aloft now, all of them crying out as they pointed: "Flyer! French flyer !" I saw it.