These obstacles, which threatened such imminent peril, seemed to
approach with extreme rapidity, or, to speak more accurately, the wind,
which was very fresh, was hurrying the balloon toward the sharp peaks.
So rise it must, or be dashed to pieces.
“Let us empty our tank of water,” said the doctor, “and keep only enough
for one day.”
“There it goes,” shouted Joe.
“Does the balloon rise at all?” asked Kennedy.
“A little--some fifty feet,” replied the doctor, who kept his eyes fixed
on the barometer. “But that is not enough.”
In truth the lofty peaks were starting up so swiftly before the
travellers that they seemed to be rushing down upon them. The balloon
was far from rising above them. She lacked an elevation of more than
five hundred feet more.
The stock of water for the cylinder was also thrown overboard and only a
few pints were retained, but still all this was not enough.
“We must pass them though!” urged the doctor.
“Let us throw out the tanks--we have emptied them.” said Kennedy.
“Over with them!”
“There they go!” panted Joe. “But it’s hard to see ourselves dropping
off this way by piecemeal.”
“Now, for your part, Joe, make no attempt to sacrifice yourself as you
did the other day! Whatever happens, swear to me that you will not leave
us!”
“Have no fears, my master, we shall not be separated.”
The Victoria had ascended some hundred and twenty feet, but the crest
of the mountain still towered above it. It was an almost perpendicular
ridge that ended in a regular wall rising abruptly in a straight line.
It still rose more than two hundred feet over the aeronauts.
“In ten minutes,” said the doctor to himself, “our car will be dashed
against those rocks unless we succeed in passing them!”
“Well, doctor?” queried Joe.
“Keep nothing but our pemmican, and throw out all the heavy meat.”
Thereupon the balloon was again lightened by some fifty pounds, and it
rose very perceptibly, but that was of little consequence, unless it got
above the line of the mountain-tops. The situation was terrifying. The
Victoria was rushing on with great rapidity. They could feel that she
would be dashed to pieces--that the shock would be fearful.
The doctor glanced around him in the car. It was nearly empty.
“If needs be, Dick, hold yourself in readiness to throw over your
fire-arms!”
“Sacrifice my fire-arms?” repeated the sportsman, with intense feeling.
“My friend, I ask it; it will be absolutely necessary!”
“Samuel! Doctor!”
“Your guns, and your stock of powder and ball might cost us our lives.”
“We are close to it!” cried Joe.
Sixty feet! The mountain still overtopped the balloon by sixty feet.
Joe took the blankets and other coverings and tossed them out; then,
without a word to Kennedy, he threw over several bags of bullets and
lead.
The balloon went up still higher; it surmounted the dangerous ridge, and
the rays of the sun shone upon its uppermost extremity; but the car was
still below the level of certain broken masses of rock, against which it
would inevitably be dashed.
“Kennedy! Kennedy! throw out your fire-arms, or we are lost!” shouted
the doctor.
“Wait, sir; wait one moment!” they heard Joe exclaim, and, looking
around, they saw Joe disappear over the edge of the balloon.
“Joe! Joe!” cried Kennedy.
“Wretched man!” was the doctor’s agonized expression.
The flat top of the mountain may have had about twenty feet in breadth
at this point, and, on the other side, the slope presented a less
declivity. The car just touched the level of this plane, which happened
to be quite even, and it glided over a soil composed of sharp pebbles
that grated as it passed.
“We’re over it! we’re over it! we’re clear!” cried out an exulting voice
that made Ferguson’s heart leap to his throat.
The daring fellow was there, grasping the lower rim of the car, and
running afoot over the top of the mountain, thus lightening the balloon
of his whole weight. He had to hold on with all his strength, too, for
it was likely to escape his grasp at any moment.
When he had reached the opposite declivity, and the abyss was before
him, Joe, by a vigorous effort, hoisted himself from the ground, and,
clambering up by the cordage, rejoined his friends.
“That was all!” he coolly ejaculated.
“My brave Joe! my friend!” said the doctor, with deep emotion.
“Oh! what I did,” laughed the other, “was not for you; it was to save
Mr. Kennedy’s rifle. I owed him that good turn for the affair with the
Arab! I like to pay my debts, and now we are even,” added he, handing
to the sportsman his favorite weapon. “I’d feel very badly to see you
deprived of it.”
Kennedy heartily shook the brave fellow’s hand, without being able to
utter a word.
The Victoria had nothing to do now but to descend. That was easy enough,
so that she was soon at a height of only two hundred feet from the
ground, and was then in equilibrium. The surface seemed very much broken
as though by a convulsion of nature. It presented numerous inequalities,
which would have been very difficult to avoid during the night with
a balloon that could no longer be controlled. Evening was coming on
rapidly, and, notwithstanding his repugnance, the doctor had to make up
his mind to halt until morning.
“We’ll now look for a favorable stopping-place,” said he.
“Ah!” replied Kennedy, “you have made up your mind, then, at last?”
“Yes, I have for a long time been thinking over a plan which we’ll try
to put into execution; it is only six o’clock in the evening, and we
shall have time enough. Throw out your anchors, Joe!”
Joe immediately obeyed, and the two anchors dangled below the balloon.
“I see large forests ahead of us,” said the doctor; “we are going to
sweep along their tops, and we shall grapple to some tree, for nothing
would make me think of passing the night below, on the ground.”
“But can we not descend?” asked Kennedy.
“To what purpose? I repeat that it would be dangerous for us to
separate, and, besides, I claim your help for a difficult piece of
work.”
The Victoria, which was skimming along the tops of immense forests, soon
came to a sharp halt. Her anchors had caught, and, the wind falling as
dusk came on, she remained motionlessly suspended above a vast field of
verdure, formed by the tops of a forest of sycamores.
CHAPTER FORTY-SECOND.
A Struggle of Generosity.--The Last Sacrifice.--The Dilating
Apparatus.--Joe’s Adroitness.--Midnight.--The Doctor’s Watch.--Kennedy’s
Watch.--The Latter falls asleep at his Post.--The Fire.--The Howlings of
the Natives.--Out of Range.
Doctor Ferguson’s first care was to take his bearings by stellar
observation, and he discovered that he was scarcely twenty-five miles
from Senegal.
“All that we can manage to do, my friends,” said he, after having
pointed his map, “is to cross the river; but, as there is neither bridge
nor boat, we must, at all hazards, cross it with the balloon, and, in
order to do that, we must still lighten up.”
“But I don’t exactly see how we can do that?” replied Kennedy, anxious
about his fire-arms, “unless one of us makes up his mind to sacrifice
himself for the rest,--that is, to stay behind, and, in my turn, I claim
that honor.”
“You, indeed!” remonstrated Joe; “ain’t I used to--”
“The question now is, not to throw ourselves out of the car, but simply
to reach the coast of Africa on foot. I am a first-rate walker, a good
sportsman, and--”
“I’ll never consent to it!” insisted Joe.
“Your generous rivalry is useless, my brave friends,” said Ferguson; “I
trust that we shall not come to any such extremity: besides, if we did,
instead of separating, we should keep together, so as to make our way
across the country in company.”
“That’s the talk,” said Joe; “a little tramp won’t do us any harm.”
“But before we try that,” resumed the doctor, “we must employ a last
means of lightening the balloon.”
“What will that be? I should like to see it,” said Kennedy,
incredulously.
“We must get rid of the cylinder-chests, the spiral, and the Buntzen
battery. Nine hundred pounds make a rather heavy load to carry through
the air.”
“But then, Samuel, how will you dilate your gas?”
“I shall not do so at all. We’ll have to get along without it.”
“But--”
“Listen, my friends: I have calculated very exactly the amount of
ascensional force left to us, and it is sufficient to carry us every
one with the few objects that remain. We shall make in all a weight of
hardly five hundred pounds, including the two anchors which I desire to
keep.”
“Dear doctor, you know more about the matter than we do; you are the
sole judge of the situation. Tell us what we ought to do, and we will do
it.”
“I am at your orders, master,” added Joe.
“I repeat, my friends, that however serious the decision may appear, we
must sacrifice our apparatus.”
“Let it go, then!” said Kennedy, promptly.
“To work!” said Joe.
It was no easy job. The apparatus had to be taken down piece by piece.
First, they took out the mixing reservoir, then the one belonging to the
cylinder, and lastly the tank in which the decomposition of the water
was effected. The united strength of all three travellers was required
to detach these reservoirs from the bottom of the car in which they had
been so firmly secured; but Kennedy was so strong, Joe so adroit, and
the doctor so ingenious, that they finally succeeded. The different
pieces were thrown out, one after the other, and they disappeared below,
making huge gaps in the foliage of the sycamores.
“The black fellows will be mightily astonished,” said Joe, “at finding
things like those in the woods; they’ll make idols of them!”
The next thing to be looked after was the displacement of the pipes
that were fastened in the balloon and connected with the spiral. Joe
succeeded in cutting the caoutchouc jointings above the car, but when he
came to the pipes he found it more difficult to disengage them, because
they were held by their upper extremity and fastened by wires to the
very circlet of the valve.
Then it was that Joe showed wonderful adroitness. In his naked feet, so
as not to scratch the covering, he succeeded by the aid of the network,
and in spite of the oscillations of the balloon, in climbing to the
upper extremity, and after a thousand difficulties, in holding on with
one hand to that slippery surface, while he detached the outside screws
that secured the pipes in their place. These were then easily taken out,
and drawn away by the lower end, which was hermetically sealed by means
of a strong ligature.
The Victoria, relieved of this considerable weight, rose upright in the
air and tugged strongly at the anchor-rope.
About midnight this work ended without accident, but at the cost of most
severe exertion, and the trio partook of a luncheon of pemmican and cold
punch, as the doctor had no more fire to place at Joe’s disposal.
Besides, the latter and Kennedy were dropping off their feet with
fatigue.
“Lie down, my friends, and get some rest,” said the doctor. “I’ll take
the first watch; at two o’clock I’ll waken Kennedy; at four, Kennedy
will waken Joe, and at six we’ll start; and may Heaven have us in its
keeping for this last day of the trip!”
Without waiting to be coaxed, the doctor’s two companions stretched
themselves at the bottom of the car and dropped into profound slumber on
the instant.
The night was calm. A few clouds broke against the last quarter of the
moon, whose uncertain rays scarcely pierced the darkness. Ferguson,
resting his elbows on the rim of the car, gazed attentively around him.
He watched with close attention the dark screen of foliage that spread
beneath him, hiding the ground from his view. The least noise aroused
his suspicions, and he questioned even the slightest rustling of the
leaves.
He was in that mood which solitude makes more keenly felt, and during
which vague terrors mount to the brain. At the close of such a journey,
after having surmounted so many obstacles, and at the moment of touching
the goal, one’s fears are more vivid, one’s emotions keener. The point
of arrival seems to fly farther from our gaze.
Moreover, the present situation had nothing very consolatory about it.
They were in the midst of a barbarous country, and dependent upon a
vehicle that might fail them at any moment. The doctor no longer counted
implicitly on his balloon; the time had gone by when he manoevred it
boldly because he felt sure of it.
Under the influence of these impressions, the doctor, from time to time,
thought that he heard vague sounds in the vast forests around him;
he even fancied that he saw a swift gleam of fire shining between the
trees. He looked sharply and turned his night-glass toward the spot; but
there was nothing to be seen, and the profoundest silence appeared to
return.
He had, no doubt, been under the dominion of a mere hallucination. He
continued to listen, but without hearing the slightest noise. When his
watch had expired, he woke Kennedy, and, enjoining upon him to observe
the extremest vigilance, took his place beside Joe, and fell sound
asleep.
Kennedy, while still rubbing his eyes, which he could scarcely keep
open, calmly lit his pipe. He then ensconced himself in a corner, and
began to smoke vigorously by way of keeping awake.
The most absolute silence reigned around him; a light wind shook the
tree-tops and gently rocked the car, inviting the hunter to taste the
sleep that stole over him in spite of himself. He strove hard to resist
it, and repeatedly opened his eyes to plunge into the outer darkness one
of those looks that see nothing; but at last, yielding to fatigue, he
sank back and slumbered.
How long he had been buried in this stupor he knew not, but he was
suddenly aroused from it by a strange, unexpected crackling sound.
He rubbed his eyes and sprang to his feet. An intense glare half-blinded
him and heated his cheek--the forest was in flames!
“Fire! fire!” he shouted, scarcely comprehending what had happened.
His two companions started up in alarm.
“What’s the matter?” was the doctor’s immediate exclamation.
“Fire!” said Joe. “But who could--”
At this moment loud yells were heard under the foliage, which was now
illuminated as brightly as the day.
“Ah! the savages!” cried Joe again; “they have set fire to the forest so
as to be the more certain of burning us up.”
“The Talabas! Al-Hadji’s marabouts, no doubt,” said the doctor.
A circle of fire hemmed the Victoria in; the crackling of the dry wood
mingled with the hissing and sputtering of the green branches; the
clambering vines, the foliage, all the living part of this vegetation,
writhed in the destructive element. The eye took in nothing but one vast
ocean of flame; the large trees stood forth in black relief in this
huge furnace, their branches covered with glowing coals, while the whole
blazing mass, the entire conflagration, was reflected on the clouds,
and the travellers could fancy themselves enveloped in a hollow globe of
fire.
“Let us escape to the ground!” shouted Kennedy, “it is our only chance
of safety!”
But Ferguson checked him with a firm grasp, and, dashing at the
anchor-rope, severed it with one well-directed blow of his hatchet.
Meanwhile, the flames, leaping up at the balloon, already quivered on
its illuminated sides; but the Victoria, released from her fastenings,
spun upward a thousand feet into the air.
Frightful yells resounded through the forest, along with the report of
fire-arms, while the balloon, caught in a current of air that rose with
the dawn of day, was borne to the westward.
It was now four o’clock in the morning.
CHAPTER FORTY-THIRD.
The Talabas.--The Pursuit.--A Devastated Country.--The Wind begins to
fall.--The Victoria sinks.--The last of the Provisions.--The Leaps of
the Balloon.--A Defence with Fire-arms.--The Wind freshens.--The Senegal
River.--The Cataracts of Gouina.--The Hot Air.--The Passage of the
River.
“Had we not taken the precaution to lighten the balloon yesterday
evening, we should have been lost beyond redemption,” said the doctor,
after a long silence.
“See what’s gained by doing things at the right time!” replied Joe. “One
gets out of scrapes then, and nothing is more natural.”
“We are not out of danger yet,” said the doctor.
“What do you still apprehend?” queried Kennedy. “The balloon can’t
descend without your permission, and even were it to do so--”
“Were it to do so, Dick? Look!”
They had just passed the borders of the forest, and the three friends
could see some thirty mounted men clad in broad pantaloons and the
floating bournouses. They were armed, some with lances, and others with
long muskets, and they were following, on their quick, fiery little
steeds, the direction of the balloon, which was moving at only moderate
speed.
When they caught sight of the aeronauts, they uttered savage cries,
and brandished their weapons. Anger and menace could be read upon
their swarthy faces, made more ferocious by thin but bristling beards.
Meanwhile they galloped along without difficulty over the low levels and
gentle declivities that lead down to the Senegal.
“It is, indeed, they!” said the doctor; “the cruel Talabas! the
ferocious marabouts of Al-Hadji! I would rather find myself in the
middle of the forest encircled by wild beasts than fall into the hands
of these banditti.”
“They haven’t a very obliging look!” assented Kennedy; “and they are
rough, stalwart fellows.”
“Happily those brutes can’t fly,” remarked Joe; “and that’s something.”
“See,” said Ferguson, “those villages in ruins, those huts burned
down--that is their work! Where vast stretches of cultivated land were
once seen, they have brought barrenness and devastation.”
“At all events, however,” interposed Kennedy, “they can’t overtake us;
and, if we succeed in putting the river between us and them, we are
safe.”
“Perfectly, Dick,” replied Ferguson; “but we must not fall to the
ground!” and, as he said this, he glanced at the barometer.
“In any case, Joe,” added Kennedy, “it would do us no harm to look to
our fire-arms.”
“No harm in the world, Mr. Dick! We are lucky that we didn’t scatter
them along the road.”
“My rifle!” said the sportsman. “I hope that I shall never be separated
from it!”
And so saying, Kennedy loaded the pet piece with the greatest care, for
he had plenty of powder and ball remaining.
“At what height are we?” he asked the doctor.
“About seven hundred and fifty feet; but we no longer have the power of
seeking favorable currents, either going up or coming down. We are at
the mercy of the balloon!”
“That is vexatious!” rejoined Kennedy. “The wind is poor; but if we had
come across a hurricane like some of those we met before, these vile
brigands would have been out of sight long ago.”
“The rascals follow us at their leisure,” said Joe. “They’re only at a
short gallop. Quite a nice little ride!”
“If we were within range,” sighed the sportsman, “I should amuse myself
with dismounting a few of them.”
“Exactly,” said the doctor; “but then they would have you within range
also, and our balloon would offer only too plain a target to the bullets
from their long guns; and, if they were to make a hole in it, I leave
you to judge what our situation would be!”
The pursuit of the Talabas continued all morning; and by eleven o’clock
the aeronauts had made scarcely fifteen miles to the westward.
The doctor was anxiously watching for the least cloud on the horizon.
He feared, above all things, a change in the atmosphere. Should he be
thrown back toward the Niger, what would become of him? Besides, he
remarked that the balloon tended to fall considerably. Since the start,
he had already lost more than three hundred feet, and the Senegal must
be about a dozen miles distant. At his present rate of speed, he could
count upon travelling only three hours longer.
At this moment his attention was attracted by fresh cries. The Talabas
appeared to be much excited, and were spurring their horses.
The doctor consulted his barometer, and at once discovered the cause of
these symptoms.
“Are we descending?” asked Kennedy.
“Yes!” replied the doctor.
“The mischief!” thought Joe
In the lapse of fifteen minutes the Victoria was only one hundred and
fifty feet above the ground; but the wind was much stronger than before.
The Talabas checked their horses, and soon a volley of musketry pealed
out on the air.
“Too far, you fools!” bawled Joe. “I think it would be well to keep
those scamps at a distance.”
And, as he spoke, he aimed at one of the horsemen who was farthest to
the front, and fired. The Talaba fell headlong, and, his companions
halting for a moment, the balloon gained upon them.
“They are prudent!” said Kennedy.
“Because they think that they are certain to take us,” replied the
doctor; “and, they will succeed if we descend much farther. We must,
absolutely, get higher into the air.”
“What can we throw out?” asked Joe.
“All that remains of our stock of pemmican; that will be thirty pounds
less weight to carry.”
“Out it goes, sir!” said Joe, obeying orders.
The car, which was now almost touching the ground, rose again, amid the
cries of the Talabas; but, half an hour later, the balloon was again
falling rapidly, because the gas was escaping through the pores of the
covering.
Ere long the car was once more grazing the soil, and Al-Hadji’s black
riders rushed toward it; but, as frequently happens in like cases, the
balloon had scarcely touched the surface ere it rebounded, and only came
down again a mile away.
“So we shall not escape!” said Kennedy, between his teeth.
“Throw out our reserved store of brandy, Joe,” cried the doctor; “our
instruments, and every thing that has any weight, even to our last
anchor, because go they must!”
Joe flung out the barometers and thermometers, but all that amounted
to little; and the balloon, which had risen for an instant, fell again
toward the ground.
The Talabas flew toward it, and at length were not more than two hundred
paces away.
“Throw out the two fowling-pieces!” shouted Ferguson.
“Not without discharging them, at least,” responded the sportsman; and
four shots in quick succession struck the thick of the advancing group
of horsemen. Four Talabas fell, amid the frantic howls and imprecations
of their comrades.
The Victoria ascended once more, and made some enormous leaps, like
a huge gum-elastic ball, bounding and rebounding through the air. A
strange sight it was to see these unfortunate men endeavoring to escape
by those huge aerial strides, and seeming, like the giant Antaeus,
to receive fresh strength every time they touched the earth. But this
situation had to terminate. It was now nearly noon; the Victoria was
getting empty and exhausted, and assuming a more and more elongated
form every instant. Its outer covering was becoming flaccid, and floated
loosely in the air, and the folds of the silk rustled and grated on each
other.
“Heaven abandons us!” said Kennedy; “we have to fall!”
Joe made no answer. He kept looking intently at his master.
“No!” said the latter; “we have more than one hundred and fifty pounds
yet to throw out.”
“What can it be, then?” said Kennedy, thinking that the doctor must be
going mad.
“The car!” was his reply; “we can cling to the network. There we can
hang on in the meshes until we reach the river. Quick! quick!”
And these daring men did not hesitate a moment to avail themselves of
this last desperate means of escape. They clutched the network, as the
doctor directed, and Joe, holding on by one hand, with the other cut the
cords that suspended the car; and the latter dropped to the ground just
as the balloon was sinking for the last time.
“Hurrah! hurrah!” shouted the brave fellow exultingly, as the Victoria,
once more relieved, shot up again to a height of three hundred feet.
The Talabas spurred their horses, which now came tearing on at a furious
gallop; but the balloon, falling in with a much more favorable wind,
shot ahead of them, and was rapidly carried toward a hill that stretched
across the horizon to the westward. This was a circumstance favorable to
the aeronauts, because they could rise over the hill, while Al-Hadji’s
horde had to diverge to the northward in order to pass this obstacle.
The three friends still clung to the network. They had been able to
fasten it under their feet, where it had formed a sort of swinging
pocket.
Suddenly, after they had crossed the hill, the doctor exclaimed: “The
river! the river! the Senegal, my friends!”
And about two miles ahead of them, there was indeed the river rolling
along its broad mass of water, while the farther bank, which was low and
fertile, offered a sure refuge, and a place favorable for a descent.
“Another quarter of an hour,” said Ferguson, “and we are saved!”
But it was not to happen thus; the empty balloon descended slowly upon a
tract almost entirely bare of vegetation. It was made up of long slopes
and stony plains, a few bushes and some coarse grass, scorched by the
sun.
The Victoria touched the ground several times, and rose again, but her
rebound was diminishing in height and length. At the last one, it caught
by the upper part of the network in the lofty branches of a baobab,
the only tree that stood there, solitary and alone, in the midst of the
waste.
“It’s all over,” said Kennedy.
“And at a hundred paces only from the river!” groaned Joe.
The three hapless aeronauts descended to the ground, and the doctor drew
his companions toward the Senegal.
At this point the river sent forth a prolonged roaring; and when
Ferguson reached its bank, he recognized the falls of Gouina. But not
a boat, not a living creature was to be seen. With a breadth of two
thousand feet, the Senegal precipitates itself for a height of one
hundred and fifty, with a thundering reverberation. It ran, where they
saw it, from east to west, and the line of rocks that barred its course
extended from north to south. In the midst of the falls, rocks of
strange forms started up like huge ante-diluvian animals, petrified
there amid the waters.
The impossibility of crossing this gulf was self-evident, and Kennedy
could not restrain a gesture of despair.
But Dr. Ferguson, with an energetic accent of undaunted daring,
exclaimed--
“All is not over!”
“I knew it,” said Joe, with that confidence in his master which nothing
could ever shake.
The sight of the dried-up grass had inspired the doctor with a bold
idea. It was the last chance of escape. He led his friends quickly back
to where they had left the covering of the balloon.
“We have at least an hour’s start of those banditti,” said he; “let us
lose no time, my friends; gather a quantity of this dried grass; I want
a hundred pounds of it, at least.”
“For what purpose?” asked Kennedy, surprised.
“I have no more gas; well, I’ll cross the river with hot air!”
“Ah, doctor,” exclaimed Kennedy, “you are, indeed, a great man!”
Joe and Kennedy at once went to work, and soon had an immense pile of
dried grass heaped up near the baobab.
In the mean time, the doctor had enlarged the orifice of the balloon by
cutting it open at the lower end. He then was very careful to expel the
last remnant of hydrogen through the valve, after which he heaped up a
quantity of grass under the balloon, and set fire to it.
It takes but a little while to inflate a balloon with hot air. A head of
one hundred and eighty degrees is sufficient to diminish the weight of
the air it contains to the extent of one-half, by rarefying it. Thus,
the Victoria quickly began to assume a more rounded form. There was no
lack of grass; the fire was kept in full blast by the doctor’s assiduous
efforts, and the balloon grew fuller every instant.
It was then a quarter to four o’clock.
At this moment the band of Talabas reappeared about two miles to the
northward, and the three friends could hear their cries, and the clatter
of their horses galloping at full speed.
“In twenty minutes they will be here!” said Kennedy.
“More grass! more grass, Joe! In ten minutes we shall have her full of
hot air.”
“Here it is, doctor!”
The Victoria was now two-thirds inflated.
“Come, my friends, let us take hold of the network, as we did before.”
“All right!” they answered together.
In about ten minutes a few jerking motions by the balloon indicated that
it was disposed to start again. The Talabas were approaching. They were
hardly five hundred paces away.
“Hold on fast!” cried Ferguson.
“Have no fear, master--have no fear!”
And the doctor, with his foot pushed another heap of grass upon the
fire.
With this the balloon, now completely inflated by the increased
temperature, moved away, sweeping the branches of the baobab in her
flight.
“We’re off!” shouted Joe.
A volley of musketry responded to his exclamation. A bullet even
ploughed his shoulder; but Kennedy, leaning over, and discharging his
rifle with one hand, brought another of the enemy to the ground.
Cries of fury exceeding all description hailed the departure of the
balloon, which had at once ascended nearly eight hundred feet. A swift
current caught and swept it along with the most alarming oscillations,
while the intrepid doctor and his friends saw the gulf of the cataracts
yawning below them.
Ten minutes later, and without having exchanged a word, they descended
gradually toward the other bank of the river.
There, astonished, speechless, terrified, stood a group of men clad in
the French uniform. Judge of their amazement when they saw the balloon
rise from the right bank of the river. They had well-nigh taken it for
some celestial phenomenon, but their officers, a lieutenant of marines
and a naval ensign, having seen mention made of Dr. Ferguson’s daring
expedition, in the European papers, quickly explained the real state of
the case.
The balloon, losing its inflation little by little, settled with the
daring travellers still clinging to its network; but it was doubtful
whether it would reach the land. At once some of the brave Frenchmen
rushed into the water and caught the three aeronauts in their arms just
as the Victoria fell at the distance of a few fathoms from the left bank
of the Senegal.
“Dr. Ferguson!” exclaimed the lieutenant.
“The same, sir,” replied the doctor, quietly, “and his two friends.”
The Frenchmen escorted our travellers from the river, while the balloon,
half-empty, and borne away by a swift current, sped on, to plunge,
like a huge bubble, headlong with the waters of the Senegal, into the
cataracts of Gouina.
“The poor Victoria!” was Joe’s farewell remark.
The doctor could not restrain a tear, and extending his hands his two
friends wrung them silently with that deep emotion which requires no
spoken words.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOURTH.
Conclusion.--The Certificate.--The French Settlements.--The Post of
Medina.--The Basilic.--Saint Louis.--The English Frigate.--The Return to
London.
The expedition upon the bank of the river had been sent by the governor
of Senegal. It consisted of two officers, Messrs. Dufraisse, lieutenant
of marines, and Rodamel, naval ensign, and with these were a sergeant
and seven soldiers. For two days they had been engaged in reconnoitring
the most favorable situation for a post at Gouina, when they became
witnesses of Dr. Ferguson’s arrival.
The warm greetings and felicitations of which our travellers were the
recipients may be imagined. The Frenchmen, and they alone, having had
ocular proof of the accomplishment of the daring project, naturally
became Dr. Ferguson’s witnesses. Hence the doctor at once asked them to
give their official testimony of his arrival at the cataracts of Gouina.
“You would have no objection to signing a certificate of the fact, would
you?” he inquired of Lieutenant Dufraisse.
“At your orders!” the latter instantly replied.
The Englishmen were escorted to a provisional post established on the
bank of the river, where they found the most assiduous attention, and
every thing to supply their wants. And there the following certificate
was drawn up in the terms in which it appears to-day, in the archives of
the Royal Geographical Society of London:
“We, the undersigned, do hereby declare that, on the day herein
mentioned, we witnessed the arrival of Dr. Ferguson and his two
companions, Richard Kennedy and Joseph Wilson, clinging to the cordage
and network of a balloon, and that the said balloon fell at a distance
of a few paces from us into the river, and being swept away by the
current was lost in the cataracts of Gouina. In testimony whereof,
we have hereunto set our hands and seals beside those of the persons
hereinabove named, for the information of all whom it may concern.
“Done at the Cataracts of Gouina, on the 24th of May, 1862.
“(Signed),“SAMUEL FERGUSON
“RICHARD KENNEDY,
“JOSEPH WILSON,
“DUFRAISSE, Lieutenant of Marines,
“RODAMEL, Naval Ensign,
“DUFAYS, Sergeant,
“FLIPPEAU, MAYOR,
“PELISSIER, LOROIS, } Privates.”
RASCAGNET, GUIL-
LON, LEBEL,
Here ended the astonishing journey of Dr. Ferguson and his brave
companions, as vouched for by undeniable testimony; and they found
themselves among friends in the midst of most hospitable tribes, whose
relations with the French settlements are frequent and amicable.
They had arrived at Senegal on Saturday, the 24th of May, and on the
27th of the same month they reached the post of Medina, situated a
little farther to the north, but on the river.
There the French officers received them with open arms, and lavished
upon them all the resources of their hospitality. Thus aided, the doctor
and his friends were enabled to embark almost immediately on the small
steamer called the Basilic, which ran down to the mouth of the river.
Two weeks later, on the 10th of June, they arrived at Saint Louis,
where the governor gave them a magnificent reception, and they recovered
completely from their excitement and fatigue.
Besides, Joe said to every one who chose to listen:
“That was a stupid trip of ours, after all, and I wouldn’t advise any
body who is greedy for excitement to undertake it. It gets very tiresome
at the last, and if it hadn’t been for the adventures on Lake Tchad and
at the Senegal River, I do believe that we’d have died of yawning.”
An English frigate was just about to sail, and the three travellers
procured passage on board of her. On the 25th of June they arrived at
Portsmouth, and on the next day at London.
We will not describe the reception they got from the Royal Geographical
Society, nor the intense curiosity and consideration of which they
became the objects. Kennedy set off, at once, for Edinburgh, with his
famous rifle, for he was in haste to relieve the anxiety of his faithful
old housekeeper.
The doctor and his devoted Joe remained the same men that we have known
them, excepting that one change took place at their own suggestion.
They ceased to be master and servant, in order to become bosom friends.
The journals of all Europe were untiring in their praises of the bold
explorers, and the Daily Telegraph struck off an edition of three
hundred and seventy-seven thousand copies on the day when it published a
sketch of the trip.
Doctor Ferguson, at a public meeting of the Royal Geographical Society,
gave a recital of his journey through the air, and obtained for himself
and his companions the golden medal set apart to reward the most
remarkable exploring expedition of the year 1862.
*****
The first result of Dr. Ferguson’s expedition was to establish, in the
most precise manner, the facts and geographical surveys reported by
Messrs. Barth, Burton, Speke, and others. Thanks to the still
more recent expeditions of Messrs. Speke and Grant, De Heuglin and
Muntzinger, who have been ascending to the sources of the Nile, and
penetrating to the centre of Africa, we shall be enabled ere long to
verify, in turn, the discoveries of Dr. Ferguson in that vast region
comprised between the fourteenth and thirty-third degrees of east
longitude.
,
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389
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390
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392
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414
«
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415
416
«
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417
-
-
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418
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419
420
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,
«
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421
,
,
422
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423
424
«
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425
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,
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426
427
«
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,
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-
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429
430
«
,
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!
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431
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432
433
«
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«
434
!
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435
436
,
,
437
.
438
439
«
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440
441
«
;
442
,
.
443
!
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444
445
«
!
»
.
«
;
446
,
447
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448
449
«
,
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«
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450
.
!
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451
452
«
,
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453
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454
455
«
,
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;
«
456
,
457
;
,
,
458
!
»
459
460
;
’
461
.
462
463
.
464
,
,
.
465
,
?
,
466
.
,
467
,
468
.
,
469
.
470
471
.
472
,
.
473
474
,
475
.
476
477
«
?
»
.
478
479
«
!
»
.
480
481
«
!
»
482
483
484
;
.
485
486
,
487
.
488
489
«
,
!
»
.
«
490
.
»
491
492
,
,
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,
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,
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,
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495
496
«
!
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.
497
498
«
,
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499
;
«
,
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,
500
,
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501
502
«
?
»
.
503
504
«
;
505
.
»
506
507
«
,
!
»
,
.
508
509
,
,
,
510
;
,
,
511
,
512
.
513
514
,
-
’
515
;
,
,
516
,
517
.
518
519
«
!
»
,
.
520
521
«
,
,
»
;
«
522
,
,
523
,
!
»
524
525
,
526
;
,
,
527
.
528
529
,
530
.
531
532
«
-
!
»
.
533
534
«
,
,
»
;
535
536
.
,
537
.
538
539
,
,
540
-
,
.
541
542
,
,
,
543
.
544
.
;
545
,
546
.
,
547
,
548
.
549
550
«
!
»
;
«
!
»
551
552
.
.
553
554
«
!
»
;
«
555
.
»
556
557
«
,
?
»
,
558
.
559
560
«
!
»
;
«
.
561
.
!
!
»
562
563
564
.
,
565
,
,
,
566
;
567
.
568
569
«
!
!
»
,
,
570
,
.
571
572
,
573
;
,
,
574
,
575
.
576
,
,
-
’
577
.
578
579
.
580
,
581
.
582
583
,
,
:
«
584
!
!
,
!
»
585
586
,
587
,
,
588
,
,
.
589
590
«
,
»
,
«
!
»
591
592
;
593
.
594
,
,
595
.
596
597
,
,
598
.
,
599
,
600
,
,
601
.
602
603
«
’
,
»
.
604
605
«
!
»
.
606
607
,
608
.
609
610
;
611
,
.
612
,
.
613
,
614
,
.
,
615
,
,
616
.
,
617
-
,
618
.
619
620
-
,
621
.
622
623
.
,
,
624
-
-
625
626
«
!
»
627
628
«
,
»
,
629
.
630
631
-
632
.
.
633
.
634
635
«
’
,
»
;
«
636
,
;
;
637
,
.
»
638
639
«
?
»
,
.
640
641
«
;
,
’
!
»
642
643
«
,
,
»
,
«
,
,
!
»
644
645
,
646
.
647
648
,
649
.
650
,
651
,
.
652
653
.
654
655
-
,
.
,
656
.
657
;
’
658
,
.
659
660
’
.
661
662
663
,
,
664
.
665
666
«
!
»
.
667
668
«
!
,
!
669
.
»
670
671
«
,
!
»
672
673
-
.
674
675
«
,
,
,
.
»
676
677
«
!
»
.
678
679
680
.
.
681
.
682
683
«
!
»
.
684
685
«
,
-
-
!
»
686
687
,
688
.
689
690
,
691
,
,
692
.
693
694
«
’
!
»
.
695
696
.
697
;
,
,
698
,
.
699
700
701
,
.
702
,
703
704
.
705
706
,
,
707
.
708
709
,
,
,
,
710
.
711
.
-
712
,
,
713
,
.
’
714
,
,
715
.
716
717
,
,
718
;
719
.
720
721
722
.
723
724
«
.
!
»
.
725
726
«
,
,
»
,
,
«
.
»
727
728
,
,
729
-
,
,
,
,
730
,
,
731
.
732
733
«
!
»
’
.
734
735
,
736
737
.
738
739
740
741
-
.
742
743
.
-
-
.
-
-
.
-
-
744
.
-
-
.
-
-
.
-
-
.
-
-
745
.
746
747
748
.
,
.
,
749
,
,
,
750
.
751
,
752
.
’
.
753
754
755
.
,
,
756
,
757
.
’
.
758
.
759
760
«
,
761
?
»
.
762
763
«
!
»
.
764
765
766
,
,
767
.
768
-
,
769
:
770
771
«
,
,
,
772
,
.
773
,
,
774
,
775
,
776
.
,
777
778
,
.
779
780
«
,
,
.
781
782
«
(
)
,
«
783
«
,
784
«
,
785
«
,
,
786
«
,
,
787
«
,
,
788
«
,
,
789
«
,
,
.
»
790
,
-
791
,
,
792
793
794
.
795
,
;
796
,
797
.
798
799
,
,
800
,
801
,
.
802
803
,
804
.
,
805
806
,
.
807
808
,
,
,
809
,
810
.
811
812
,
:
813
814
«
,
,
’
815
.
816
,
’
817
,
’
.
»
818
819
,
820
.
821
,
.
822
823
824
,
825
.
,
,
,
826
,
827
.
828
829
830
,
.
831
832
,
.
833
834
835
,
836
-
837
.
838
839
,
,
840
,
841
842
.
843
844
*
*
*
*
*
845
846
.
’
,
847
,
848
.
,
,
,
.
849
.
,
850
,
,
851
,
852
,
,
.
853
-
854
.
855