Works of Jules Verne/Five Weeks in a Balloon/Chapter 28
CHAPTER XXVIII
THE HURRICANE
The evening was beautiful, and was passed by our travelers under the grateful shade of the mimosas, after an excellent repast, in which tea and grog were not spared.
Kennedy had searched the little island in every direction; he had scoured the bushes, and the travelers were the only occupants of this terrestial paradise. They stretched themselves on the ground beneath their rugs, and enjoyed a quiet night's rest, which brought them forgetfulness of all their troubles.
Next day, the 7th of May, the sun shone brilliantly, but his rays were unable to penetrate the thick curtains of shade. They had provisions in plenty, and the doctor determined to remain at that place until a favorable wind rose.
Joe had got out his portable kitchen, and devoted himself to a series of culinary combinations, while he made use of the water with careless prodigality.
"What a strange succession of disappointment and pleasure!" cried Kennedy. "All this abundance after the privations we endured; luxury succeeding to despair. Ah! I was very nearly going mad!"
"My dear Dick," said the doctor, "had it not been for Joe, you would not be sitting there holding forth upon the mutability of human affairs."
"My brave friend," said Dick, extending his hand to Joe.
"Oh, do not mention it," replied Joe. "You would do. s much for me again, Mr. Dick; but I trust the opportunity to render me a simialr service will not arise."
"Ours is a poor nature," said Ferguson, "to allow itself to be overcome by so little."
"By so little water you mean, sir. That element is very necessary to life."
"Doubtless, Joe, and people deprived of food can exist longer than those deprived of water."
"I can quite believe it. Moreover, if necessary, one can eat anything, even one's fellow-creatures, although that would be a repast likely to last for a long time."
"Savages don't find it so, nevertheless," said Kennedy. "That is because they are savages, and accustomed to eat uncooked meat, but that is to me a disgusting habit."
"It is very distasteful, certainly," replied the doctor; "in fact, no one credits the accounts of the first African explorers, who have related that many tribes live on raw meat, and refused generally to admit the fact. A singular adventure happened to James Bruce under these circumstances."
"Tell us what it was, sir, we have plenty of time," said Joe, casting himself lazily upon the green grass.
"Willingly," replied the doctor. "James Bruce was a Scotchman, a native of Stirling, and who, in 1768-72, traversed Abyssinia as far as Lake Tyana, in his search for the sources of the Nile. He then returned to England, where he published his travels in 1790 or thereabouts. His statements were received with incredulity (an incredulity doubtless also in reserve for us). The habits of the Abyssinians appeared so very different from the British usages and customs, that no one would credit the accounts. Amongst other details James Bruce had stated that the tribes of eastern Africa were in the habit of eating raw meat. This statement raised a regular outcry against him. He might talk as he liked, they did not see it at all! Bruce was a very brave but a very quick-tempered man. These insinuations and doubts worried him very much. One day in a drawing-room in Edinburgh, a Scotchman repeated in Bruce's presence the subject of the daily jokes; and as to the uncooked meat, he did not believe it was either possible or true. Bruce made no remark. He went out of the room and shortly afterwards returned with a raw beefsteak, salted and peppered after the African manner."
"'Sir,' said he to the Scot, 'in throwing doubt upon what I have declared to be true, you have gravely insulted me, and in disbelieving the possibility of the occurrence, you have made a great mistake. Now, to prove it, you are going to eat this raw steak, or give me satisfaction!' The Scot was a coward, and he ate the steak with many grimaces. Then, with great coolness, Bruce added: 'Supposing, even, that the thing is not true, sir, you will hardly in future maintain that it is impossible!'"
"A capital retort," said Joe. "If the Scot got indigestion, it was no more than he deserved; and if, when we return to England, anyone cast doubts on our journey———"
"Well, Joe, what will you do?"
"I will make the skeptics eat the fragments of the 'Victoria,' without salt or pepper!"
All laughed at Joe's determination. So the day wore on in pleasant chat; with strength, hope returned—with hope, boldness. The past was effaced by the future with providential rapidity. Joe did not wish to leave this delightful asylum. It was the country of his dreams; he felt at home here, he obliged his master to take the exact bearings, and he wrote it with much ceremony in his notebook, 15° 43′ longitude, 8° 32′ latitude. Kennedy only regretted his inability to hunt or shoot in that miniature forest; in his eyes the place only wanted a few wild beasts, to be perfectly charming.
"Well, my dear Dick, you have a very bad memory. How about that lion and lioness?" said the doctor.
"That's nothing," replied Dick, with a true hunter's contempt for what he had killed. "But, as a matter of fact, we may suppose their presence in this oasis is indicating our approach to more fertile regions."
"By no means a certain proof, Dick; these animals, impelled by hunger or thirst, often travel immense distances. During the approaching night we must watch with redoubled vigilance, and light fires."
"In this heat!" cried Joe. "However, if necessary, it must be done. But it is a great pity to burn this pretty wood, which has been so welcome to us!"
"We will take great care not to set it on fire," said the doctor, "so that other people may find in it a refuge in the midst of the desert."
"It shall be taken care of. But, sir, do you think this oasis is known to exist?
"Certainly. It is a halting-place for the caravans which frequent the center of Africa, and their visit might not be acceptable to you, Joe."
"Are those horrible Nyam-Nyams here then?"
"Without doubt that is the general name of all these people; and under the same climate the same race have like customs."
"Pooh!" said Joe; "after all, it is very natural. If savages possessed the tastes of gentlemen where would be the difference? For example, look at these brave people who would not have to be asked to swallow the beefsteak of the Scotchman—or even the Scot himself."
With this rational remark, Joe proceeded to get the wood piles ready for the night, making them as small as possible. These precautions were happily unnecessary, and each one in turn enjoyed a good night's rest.
Next day the weather was unchanged—it remained obstinately fine. The balloon would be motionless until a breeze arose to move it. The doctor began to feel uneasy once more. If the journey became thus extended the provisions would not hold out. After having survived the want of water, were they to be reduced to die of hunger?
But he felt reassured when he perceived a decided fall of the mercury in the barometer; there were evident symptoms of a change. He determined, therefore, to prepare for departure and profit by the very first opportunity. The supply tank and the water tank were both filled.
Ferguson then set about the re-establishment of the equilibrium of the balloon, and Joe was obliged to sacrifice a quantity of the precious mineral he possessed. With renewed health, ambition reasserted itself. He made more excuses than before ere he obeyed his master, but the latter pointed out how impossible it was to raise such a weight. It was a choice between water and ore. Joe hesitated no longer, and cast away upon the sand a quantity of his beloved pebbles.
"They will serve for those who follow us," he said. "They will be very much astonished to find a fortune in such a place."
"Suppose," said Kennedy, "that some learned traveler should meet with these specimens?"
"No doubt he would be very much surprised, my dear Dick, and would equally publish his surprise. Some day we shall hear of a wonderful deposit of auriferous quartz in the midst of the sandy desert of Africa."
"And Joe will have been the cause."
The idea of mystifying some learned professor somewhat consoled this brave lad, and he smiled.
During the remainder of the day the doctor watched in vain for a change in the sky—the heat became greater, and without the shade of the oasis would have been intolerable. The thermometer in the sun marked 149°. A regular rain of fiery rays traversed the air. This was the greatest heat they had yet noted.
Towards evening Joe prepared the watch-fires, and during the vigils of the doctor and Kennedy nothing particular occurred. But towards three in the morning—Joe was watching—the temperature fell suddenly, the sky became obscured, and the darkness increased. "Get up!" cried Joe, waking his companions; "get up—the wind is coming!"
"At last!" cried the doctor, looking up at the sky.
"It is a regular storm! To the balloon—to the 'Victoria!'"
They were only just in time. The "Victoria" was bending beneath the force of the storm, and was dragging the car across the sand. Had any part of the ballast been out of her the balloon would have sailed away, and then all hope of regaining her would have been lost.
But Joe, quick as ever, ran as hard as he could and stopped the car, while the balloon beat along the sand, at the risk of being torn to pieces. The doctor took his usual place, lighted up the blow-pipe, and threw out the excess weight.
The travelers took a last look at the trees of the oasis, which were bending with the force of the wind, and soon, running before the east wind at about 200 feet above the ground, they disappeared into the darkness of the night.