Five Weeks in a Balloon
their coils, so that the beholder might have fancied that he saw before
him a new kind of tree that bore reptiles for its leaves and fruit. And
all this horrible living mass writhed and twisted in the first rays of
the morning sun! Joe experienced a keen sensation or terror mingled
with disgust, as he looked at it, and he leaped precipitately from the
tree amid the hissings of these new and unwelcome bedfellows.
“Now, there’s something that I would never have believed!” said he.
He was not aware that Dr. Vogel’s last letters had made known this
singular feature of the shores of Lake Tchad, where reptiles are more
numerous than in any other part of the world. But after what he had
just seen, Joe determined to be more circumspect for the future; and,
taking his bearings by the sun, he set off afoot toward the northeast,
avoiding with the utmost care cabins, huts, hovels, and dens of every
description, that might serve in any manner as a shelter for human
beings.
How often his gaze was turned upward to the sky! He hoped to catch a
glimpse, each time, of the _Victoria;_ and, although he looked vainly
during all that long, fatiguing day of sore foot-travel, his confident
reliance on his master remained undiminished. Great energy of character
was needed to enable him thus to sustain the situation with philosophy.
Hunger conspired with fatigue to crush him, for a man’s system is not
greatly restored and fortified by a diet of roots, the pith of plants,
such as the _mélé_, or the fruit of the _doum_ palm-tree; and yet,
according to his own calculations, Joe was enabled to push on about
twenty miles to the westward.
His body bore in scores of places the marks of the thorns with which
the lake-reeds, the acacias, the mimosas, and other wild shrubbery
through which he had to force his way, are thickly studded; and his
torn and bleeding feet rendered walking both painful and difficult. But
at length he managed to react against all these sufferings; and when
evening came again, he resolved to pass the night on the shores of Lake
Tchad.
There he had to endure the bites of myriads of insects—gnats,
mosquitoes, ants half an inch long, literally covered the ground; and,
in less than two hours, Joe had not a rag remaining of the garments
that had covered him, the insects having devoured them! It was a
terrible night, that did not yield our exhausted traveller an hour of
sleep. During all this time the wild-boars and native buffaloes,
reënforced by the _ajoub_—a very dangerous species of
_lamantine_—carried on their ferocious revels in the bushes and under
the waters of the lake, filling the night with a hideous concert. Joe
dared scarcely breathe. Even his courage and coolness had hard work to
bear up against so terrible a situation.
At length, day came again, and Joe sprang to his feet precipitately;
but judge of the loathing he felt when he saw what species of creature
had shared his couch—a toad!—but a toad five inches in length, a
monstrous, repulsive specimen of vermin that sat there staring at him
with huge round eyes. Joe felt his stomach revolt at the sight, and,
regaining a little strength from the intensity of his repugnance, he
rushed at the top of his speed and plunged into the lake. This sudden
bath somewhat allayed the pangs of the itching that tortured his whole
body; and, chewing a few leaves, he set forth resolutely, again feeling
an obstinate resolution in the act, for which he could hardly account
even to his own mind. He no longer seemed to have entire control of his
own acts, and, nevertheless, he felt within him a strength superior to
despair.
However, he began now to suffer terribly from hunger. His stomach, less
resigned than he was, rebelled, and he was obliged to fasten a tendril
of wild-vine tightly about his waist. Fortunately, he could quench his
thirst at any moment, and, in recalling the sufferings he had undergone
in the desert, he experienced comparative relief in his exemption from
that other distressing want.
“What can have become of the _Victoria?_” he wondered. “The wind blows
from the north, and she should be carried back by it toward the lake.
No doubt the doctor has gone to work to right her balance, but
yesterday would have given him time enough for that, so that may be
to-day—but I must act just as if I was never to see him again. After
all, if I only get to one of the large towns on the lake, I’ll find
myself no worse off than the travellers my master used to talk about.
Why shouldn’t I work my way out of the scrape as well as they did? Some
of them got back home again. Come, then! the deuce! Cheer up, my boy!”
Thus talking to himself and walking on rapidly, Joe came right upon a
horde of natives in the very depths of the forest, but he halted in
time and was not seen by them. The negroes were busy poisoning arrows
with the juice of the _euphorbium_—a piece of work deemed a great
affair among these savage tribes, and carried on with a sort of
ceremonial solemnity.
Joe, entirely motionless and even holding his breath, was keeping
himself concealed in a thicket, when, happening to raise his eyes, he
saw through an opening in the foliage the welcome apparition of the
balloon—the _Victoria_ herself—moving toward the lake, at a height of
only about one hundred feet above him. But he could not make himself
heard; he dared not, could not make his friends even see him!
Tears came to his eyes, not of grief but of thankfulness; his master
was then seeking him; his master had not left him to perish! He would
have to wait for the departure of the blacks; then he could quit his
hiding-place and run toward the borders of Lake Tchad!
But by this time the _Victoria_ was disappearing in the distant sky.
Joe still determined to wait for her; she would come back again,
undoubtedly. She did, indeed, return, but farther to the eastward. Joe
ran, gesticulated, shouted—but all in vain! A strong breeze was
sweeping the balloon away with a speed that deprived him of all hope.
For the first time, energy and confidence abandoned the heart of the
unfortunate man. He saw that he was lost. He thought his master gone
beyond all prospect of return. He dared no longer think; he would no
longer reflect!
Like a crazy man, his feet bleeding, his body cut and torn, he walked
on during all that day and a part of the next night. He even dragged
himself along, sometimes on his knees, sometimes with his hands. He saw
the moment nigh when all his strength would fail, and nothing would be
left to him but to sink upon the ground and die.
Thus working his way along, he at length found himself close to a
marsh, or what he knew would soon become a marsh, for night had set in
some hours before, and he fell by a sudden misstep into a thick,
clinging mire. In spite of all his efforts, in spite of his desperate
struggles, he felt himself sinking gradually in the swampy ooze, and in
a few minutes he was buried to his waist.
“Here, then, at last, is death!” he thought, in agony, “and what a
death!”
He now began to struggle again, like a madman; but his efforts only
served to bury him deeper in the tomb that the poor doomed lad was
hollowing for himself; not a log of wood or a branch to buoy him up;
not a reed to which he might cling! He felt that all was over! His eyes
convulsively closed!
“Master! master!—Help!” were his last words; but his voice, despairing,
unaided, half stifled already by the rising mire, died away feebly on
the night.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIXTH.
A Throng of People on the Horizon.—A Troop of Arabs.—The Pursuit.—It is
He.—Fall from Horseback.—The Strangled Arab.—A Ball from
Kennedy.—Adroit Manœuvres.—Caught up flying.—Joe saved at last.
From the moment when Kennedy resumed his post of observation in the
front of the car, he had not ceased to watch the horizon with his
utmost attention.
After the lapse of some time he turned toward the doctor and said:
“If I am not greatly mistaken I can see, off yonder in the distance, a
throng of men or animals moving. It is impossible to make them out yet,
but I observe that they are in violent motion, for they are raising a
great cloud of dust.”
“May it not be another contrary breeze?” said the doctor, “another
whirlwind coming to drive us back northward again?” and while speaking
he stood up to examine the horizon.
“I think not, Samuel; it is a troop of gazelles or of wild oxen.”
“Perhaps so, Dick; but yon throng is some nine or ten miles from us at
least, and on my part, even with the glass, I can make nothing of it!”
“At all events I shall not lose sight of it. There is something
remarkable about it that excites my curiosity. Sometimes it looks like
a body of cavalry manœuvring. Ah! I was not mistaken. It is, indeed, a
squadron of horsemen. Look—look there!”
The doctor eyed the group with great attention, and, after a moment’s
pause, remarked:
“I believe that you are right. It is a detachment of Arabs or Tibbous,
and they are galloping in the same direction with us, as though in
flight, but we are going faster than they, and we are rapidly gaining
on them. In half an hour we shall be near enough to see them and know
what they are.”
Kennedy had again lifted his glass and was attentively scrutinizing
them. Meanwhile the crowd of horsemen was becoming more distinctly
visible, and a few were seen to detach themselves from the main body.
“It is some hunting manœuvre, evidently,” said Kennedy. “Those fellows
seem to be in pursuit of something. I would like to know what they are
about.”
“Patience, Dick! In a little while we shall overtake them, if they
continue on the same route. We are going at the rate of twenty miles
per hour, and no horse can keep up with that.”
Kennedy again raised his glass, and a few minutes later he exclaimed:
“They are Arabs, galloping at the top of their speed; I can make them
out distinctly. They are about fifty in number. I can see their
_bournouses_ puffed out by the wind. It is some cavalry exercise that
they are going through. Their chief is a hundred paces ahead of them
and they are rushing after him at headlong speed.”
“Whoever they may be, Dick, they are not to be feared, and then, if
necessary, we can go higher.”
“Wait, doctor—wait a little!”
“It’s curious,” said Kennedy again, after a brief pause, “but there’s
something going on that I can’t exactly explain. By the efforts they
make, and the irregularity of their line, I should fancy that those
Arabs are pursuing some one, instead of following.”
“Are you certain of that, Dick?”
“Oh! yes, it’s clear enough now. I am right! It is a pursuit—a hunt—but
a man-hunt! That is not their chief riding ahead of them, but a
fugitive.”
“A fugitive!” exclaimed the doctor, growing more and more interested.
“Yes!”
“Don’t lose sight of him, and let us wait!”
Three or four miles more were quickly gained upon these horsemen, who
nevertheless were dashing onward with incredible speed.
“Doctor! doctor!” shouted Kennedy in an agitated voice.
“What is the matter, Dick?”
“Is it an illusion? Can it be possible?”
“What do you mean?”
“Wait!” and so saying, the Scot wiped the sights of his spy-glass
carefully, and looked through it again intently.
“Well?” questioned the doctor.
“It is he, doctor!”
“He!” exclaimed Ferguson with emotion.
“It is he! no other!” and it was needless to pronounce the name.
“Yes! it is he! on horseback, and only a hundred paces in advance of
his enemies! He is pursued!”
“It is Joe—Joe himself!” cried the doctor, turning pale.
“He cannot see us in his flight!”
“He will see us, though!” said the doctor, lowering the flame of his
blow-pipe.
“But how?”
“In five minutes we shall be within fifty feet of the ground, and in
fifteen we shall be right over him!”