text: [Themes: Travel, Historical, Humor, silly, Victorian, volcano, male protagonist, humor, kid-friendly]
  
  > look at the booby
  Hubert is a man of prodigious girth, pasty and unhealthy looking with slicked down hair and beady little eyes that follow me about. He is wearing a large, bulky overcoat and a shapeless felt hat.
  
  [Author's Note: Professor Pettibone, eminent Victorian balloonist, has a problem. He can't get it up. His balloon that is. If he can't reach an altitude of 20, 000 feet, and soon, both he and his mysterious travelling companion Hubert Booby will be burned to a cinder by an erupting volcano! But what is Mr. Booby concealing under his overcoat? Do all Ecuadorian peasants have BSc's? And what, in the name of all that's holy, is THE CURSE OF THE BLUE IBIS?]
  
  > examine the coat
  Hubert habitually wears this huge black overcoat. It seems to have been designed with only a small breast pocket, but a larger side pocket has been crudely stitched to the side. The overcoat is bursting at the seams; it is buttoned up but the buttons threaten to pop off under the strain. The occasional slight movement from within the bulk suggest something untoward is going on in there...
  
  > look at the breast pocket
  A small pocket on the front of the overcoat. The corner of a handkerchief can be seen poking out of Hubert's breast pocket.
  
  > look at the handkerchief
  Hubert is obviously a well brought-up young man, despite his bizarre behaviour, since he always carries a clean handkerchief in his breast pocket.
  
  > take the handkerchief
  I take hold of the corner of the handkerchief and tug, whereupon, like some infernal conjuring trick, the one handkerchief is attached to another, and another, until I am holding a huge bundle of coloured handkerchiefs all tied together at the corners. Leave those alone!" protests Hubert, "my Aunt Gertie will be very annoyed when she finds out you've stolen my hankies!"
  
  > throw the hankies
  I attempt to throw the string of handkerchiefs over the side, but unbeknown to me Hubert places his foot on the end of it. He hauls them back inside and stuffs them carelessly into the side pocket of his overcoat.
  
  > examine the breast pocket
  A small pocket on the front of the overcoat. There's nothing in the breast pocket.
  
  > look at the buttons
  Hubert's overcoat is bursting at the seams. It's a wonder the buttons don't pop off under the strain, but looking at them more closely it is evident that he has sewn them on with extremely strong sailmaker's thread.
  
  > throw Hubert
  Tempting though it is, I don't think pushing Hubert over the side of the basket is the gentlemanly way of dealing with this problem. (Actually the real reason is that he's far too heavy for me to move!)
  
  > examine the side pocket
  A large pocket that seems not to have been part of the coat's original design. Despite Hubert's protestations, I am able to take a quick peek at its contents, which appear to consist of a rubber mallet, a tin box, and a string of handkerchiefs.
  
  > examine the hat
  Hubert's hat looks as though it might once have belonged to an admiral, but it has lost much of its shape and the gold brocade is hanging off. When Hubert sees me eyeing his hat he reaches up and clutches the brim protectively. "There's nothing concealed under here, I promise you!" he says.
  
  > take the hat
  Hubert clutches the brim protectively. "It's my hat," he squeals, and after much effort you give in to his protests.
  
  > take the handkerchiefs
  Taken.
  
  > take all from the side pocket
  rubber mallet: Before Hubert has time to react, I snatch the rubber mallet from the side pocket of his coat. "You incorrigible sneak-thief!" he cries, " Scoundrels like you should be thrown in the clink!"
  tin box: In spite of Hubert's feeble efforts to stop me, I am able to wrest the tin box from the side pocket of his coat.
  
  > Tie handkerchiefs
  (to Hubert)
  I cannot see much point in doing that.
  
  > look at the tin box
  A battered tin box with the words 'sewing kit' painted on its lid.
  The sewing kit is closed.
  
  > cut the buttons with the scissors
  As soon as Hubert sees me approaching with the scissors he understandably backs away, but in the confines of the balloon I soon have him cornered. His vigorous attempts to fend me off are quite ineffectual.
  
  With a deft movement of the wrist I succeed in cutting through the tough thread that binds each button to the coat. As I do so each button flies off like a speeding bullet, and finally, with a great rending sound the coat bursts open, spilling a multitude of diverse objects onto the floor of the basket! These items consist of a large framed painting, an enormous carpetbag, a bundle of twigs, a boomerang, an ear-trumpet, a toy donkey and a sleeping Saint Bernard dog...
  
  > look at the painting
  Goodness knows where on our travels Hubert picked this up; it appears to be an exquisitely detailed still life by Rembrandt of three kittens in a chamber pot.
  
  > take the painting
  Taken. "If you damage that," says Hubert, "I shall tell my Aunt Gertie!"
  
  > look at the carpetbag
  This is by far the largest example of a carpetbag I have ever seen!
  It must contain enough carpet to carpet the Taj Mahal! The carpetbag is closed and locked with a small padlock.
  
  > throw the painting
  Without hesitation I fling the painting over the side, thereby consigning that artistic aberration to oblivion. It seems the kindest thing to do.
  
  "You imbecile!" cries Hubert, tearing out great clumps of his hair, "I bought that painting to adorn the walls of my dear Aunt Gertie's drawing room. You'll pay for this!"
  
  Unburdening the balloon of this quite large and heavy object causes a sudden and immediate gain in altitude of seven hundred feet.
  
  > take the bag
  The carpetbag is too heavy for me to carry at the moment.
  
  > look at boomerang
  Hubert must have picked up this curious artefact when we landed in Australia. I wonder what it does? At the moment it's just weighing down my balloon.
  
  > Info
  By J. J. Guest
  
  Release Version 1.0
  
  Thanks to: My Brother Dan for inspiration, to Ambrosine and Liz Parnell who beta-tested the original ADRIFT version, and to Dan Shiovitz, Phil Swinbank and Tommy Herbert who beta-tested this TADS 2 version. Thanks also to Stewart J. McAbney for initiating the TADS 2 conversion, and to Mike Roberts, Quintin Stone and everyone else on rec.arts.int-fiction who gave me help and advice.
  
  > examinthe ear-trumpet
  An old ear-trumpet made of tin.
  
  > look at the donkey
  A large, and very heavy toy donkey wearing a sombrero. Hubert must have picked this up during our brief stopover in Benidorm and smuggled it aboard under his coat!
  
  > examine the dog
  Booby must have picked up this enormous hound during our short stopover in Switzerland. It is amazing to consider that he has been carrying it around ever since! The hound is currently sound asleep, lying on his side, exactly as he fell with one ear turned inside out. A small barrel of brandy is attached to the collar around his neck.
  
  > ask Booby about the padlock
  That carpetbag is my business," sneers Hubert, "it's not my fault if you're foolish enough to throw out all your own belongings. That lock is there to see you don't get your paws on any more of mine."
  
  > take the trumpet
  Taken. "Put that down at once!" cries Hubert.
  
  > throw it
  I can see no possible use for the ear-trumpet, so I throw it over the side of the balloon. For some reason Hubert seems to find this amusing. He tries to stifle his laughter but it escapes him as a sort of nasal snort. He bends down to stroke the ears of the St. Bernard.
  
  The equilibrium of a balloon in the air is so sensitive that the loss of an almost insignificant weight can produce a very appreciable displacement. In this instance, the balloon gains around two hundred feet in altitude.
  
  > look at the altimeter
  I fling the toy donkey over the side of the balloon and watch as it spirals to Earth. "You maniac!" screams Hubert, wringing his hands and quivering all over like an oversized lemon jelly. "The shopkeeper assured me that donkey was one-of-a-kind!"
  
  Unburdening the balloon of this quite large and heavy object causes a sudden and immediate gain in altitude of seven hundred feet.
  
  The altimeter is currently reading 13,400 feet above sea level. In order to clear the volcano in safety we must reach an altitude of 20,000 feet!
  
  > search the coat
  I can now see that the overcoat has an inside pocket. Despite Hubert's protestations, I am able to take a quick peek at its contents, which appear to consist of a hatchet and a cigarette lighter. There are also a couple of objects trapped within the tartan lining, but that is as much as I am able to determine before Hubert succeeds in shoving me away.
  
  > take the hatchet
  Hubert is too slow to stop me reaching inside his overcoat to retrieve the hatchet from his inside pocket. I immediately recognise the item as my own!
  
  > take lighter
  I reach inside Hubert's overcoat and retrieve the lighter. "Stop! Thief!" yells Hubert, presumably in the hope of attracting the attention of the local constabulary.
  
  > cut the lining with the scissors
  I lunge with the scissors, slashing a large rent in the tartan fabric. A colourful vase drops out onto the floor of the basket. "You lunatic!" shrieks Hubert, throwing up his hands in horror, "my Auntie Gertie will have to mend that now!"
  
  > break it
  I hit the vase against the side of the basket but it remains resolutely intact. Maybe I should use something to smash it with!
  
  > break the vase with the hatchet
  There are surely better tools than a hatchet to break things with!
  
  > look in the vase
  It is too dark inside the vase to get any idea of what it might contain.
  
  > hit the vase with the mallet
  I hit the vase with the mallet. It shatters most obligingly, revealing a tiny key among the wreckage!
  
  "You maniac!" cries Hubert, "that vase was a present for my Aunt Gertie! I'll never be able to find another one!"
  
  > unlock bag with key
  I unlock the carpetbag with the tiny metal key, tossing the padlock over the side of the basket. The bag falls open to reveal, to my astonishment, a pair of underpants, a trombone, and what appears to be an Egyptian mummy still in its original wrappings!
  
  > examine the underpants
  A pair of clean Y-fronts, extra large. There is a picture of Sexton Blake on the front!
  
  Hubert picks up the boomerang.
  
  > examine the trombone
  A rather battered, but still serviceable trombone. There appears to be something wedged in its funnel.
  
  > look in it
  In the trombone I see a whatever it is that's wedged into the funnel.
  
  > take it
  Taken. "That doesn't belong to you!" exclaims Hubert.
  
  > play it
  The trombone emits an almost inaudible squeak. I fear there may be something wrong with it.
  
  > examine the mummy
  The preserved body of an ancient Egyptian, still in its original wrappings. It smells rather musty and something about it gives me the creeps, quite frankly.
  
  > take the underpants
  I gingerly remove the pair of underpants from the carpetbag.
  
  > unwrap the mummy
  Somewhat hesitantly I begin to peel away the mummy's wrappings. "I shouldn't do that if I were you," says Hubert, "or you'll fall foul of the curse!"
  
  > throw the underpants
  I toss the underpants over the side of the balloon. A warm air current sends them floating off into the distance. "You idiot!"
  cries Hubert, his eyes wide as coal-holes, "My Aunt Gertie was very insistent that I always have clean underwear - I've been wearing my other pair ever since this infernal trip began!"
  
  The equilibrium of a balloon in the air is so sensitive that the loss of an almost insignificant weight can produce a very appreciable displacement. In this instance, the balloon gains around one hundred feet in altitude.
  
  > ask Booby about Curse
  "Oh, it's probably just mumbo-jumbo," says Hubert airily, "but those Egyptian graverobbers who sold me the mummy also told me that anyone who defiled or desecrated the body would fall victim to the Curse of the Blue Ibis. I'm no expert on these things," he continues with an unmistakable air of smugness, "but I rather suspect that hurling the mummy out of a balloon might count as an act of desecration."
  
  > wake dog
  I try to rouse the slumbering dog by shaking him violently, but to no avail. Hubert snorts derisively at my efforts. Perhaps a loud noise of some kind might be more effectual.
  
  > put the ear trumpet in the dog
  I presume you mean me to put it in the dog's ear...
  I put the ear-trumpet in the Saint Bernard's ear. He does not appear to mind, but then he is fast asleep.