الفصل الفصل 13 · Change of Weather.—Kennedy has the Fever.—The Doctor’s
. Change of Weather.—Kennedy has the Fever.—The Doctor’s
Medicine.—Travels on Land.—The Basin of Imenge.—Mount Rubeho.—Six
Thousand Feet Elevation.—A Halt in the Daytime.
The night was calm. However, on Saturday morning, Kennedy, as he awoke,
complained of lassitude and feverish chills. The weather was changing.
The sky, covered with clouds, seemed to be laying in supplies for a
fresh deluge. A gloomy region is that Zungomoro country, where it rains
continually, excepting, perhaps, for a couple of weeks in the month of
January.
A violent shower was not long in drenching our travellers. Below them,
the roads, intersected by “nullahs,” a sort of instantaneous torrent,
were soon rendered impracticable, entangled as they were, besides, with
thorny thickets and gigantic lianas, or creeping vines. The
sulphuretted hydrogen emanations, which Captain Burton mentions, could
be distinctly smelt.
“According to his statement, and I think he’s right,” said the doctor,
“one could readily believe that there is a corpse hidden behind every
thicket.”
“An ugly country this!” sighed Joe; “and it seems to me that Mr.
Kennedy is none the better for having passed the night in it.”
“To tell the truth, I have quite a high fever,” said the sportsman.
“There’s nothing remarkable about that, my dear Dick, for we are in one
of the most unhealthy regions in Africa; but we shall not remain here
long; so let’s be off.”
Thanks to a skilful manœuvre achieved by Joe, the anchor was
disengaged, and Joe reascended to the car by means of the ladder. The
doctor vigorously dilated the gas, and the _Victoria_ resumed her
flight, driven along by a spanking breeze.
Only a few scattered huts could be seen through the pestilential mists;
but the appearance of the country soon changed, for it often happens in
Africa that some of the unhealthiest districts lie close beside others
that are perfectly salubrious.
Kennedy was visibly suffering, and the fever was mastering his vigorous
constitution.
“It won’t do to fall ill, though,” he grumbled; and so saying, he
wrapped himself in a blanket, and lay down under the awning.
“A little patience, Dick, and you’ll soon get over this,” said the
doctor.
“Get over it! Egad, Samuel, if you’ve any drug in your travelling-chest
that will set me on my feet again, bring it without delay. I’ll swallow
it with my eyes shut!”
“Oh, I can do better than that, friend Dick; for I can give you a
febrifuge that won’t cost any thing.”
“And how will you do that?”
“Very easily. I am simply going to take you up above these clouds that
are now deluging us, and remove you from this pestilential atmosphere.
I ask for only ten minutes, in order to dilate the hydrogen.”
The ten minutes had scarcely elapsed ere the travellers were beyond the
rainy belt of country.
“Wait a little, now, Dick, and you’ll begin to feel the effect of pure
air and sunshine.”
“There’s a cure for you!” said Joe; “why, it’s wonderful!”
“No, it’s merely natural.”
“Oh! natural; yes, no doubt of that!”
“I bring Dick into good air, as the doctors do, every day, in Europe,
or, as I would send a patient at Martinique to the Pitons, a lofty
mountain on that island, to get clear of the yellow fever.”
“Ah! by Jove, this balloon is a paradise!” exclaimed Kennedy, feeling
much better already.
“It leads to it, anyhow!” replied Joe, quite gravely.
It was a curious spectacle—that mass of clouds piled up, at the moment,
away below them! The vapors rolled over each other, and mingled
together in confused masses of superb brilliance, as they reflected the
rays of the sun. The _Victoria_ had attained an altitude of four
thousand feet, and the thermometer indicated a certain diminution of
temperature. The land below could no longer be seen. Fifty miles away
to the westward, Mount Rubeho raised its sparkling crest, marking the
limit of the Ugogo country in east longitude thirty-six degrees twenty
minutes. The wind was blowing at the rate of twenty miles an hour, but
the aëronauts felt nothing of this increased speed. They observed no
jar, and had scarcely any sense of motion at all.
Three hours later, the doctor’s prediction was fully verified. Kennedy
no longer felt a single shiver of the fever, but partook of some
breakfast with an excellent appetite.
“That beats sulphate of quinine!” said the energetic Scot, with hearty
emphasis and much satisfaction.
“Positively,” said Joe, “this is where I’ll have to retire to when I
get old!”
About ten o’clock in the morning the atmosphere cleared up, the clouds
parted, and the country beneath could again be seen, the _Victoria_
meanwhile rapidly descending. Dr. Ferguson was in search of a current
that would carry him more to the northeast, and he found it about six
hundred feet from the ground. The country was becoming more broken, and
even mountainous. The Zungomoro district was fading out of sight in the
east with the last cocoa-nut-trees of that latitude.
Ere long, the crests of a mountain-range assumed a more decided
prominence. A few peaks rose here and there, and it became necessary to
keep a sharp lookout for the pointed cones that seemed to spring up
every moment.
“We’re right among the breakers!” said Kennedy.
“Keep cool, Dick. We shan’t touch them,” was the doctor’s quiet answer.
“It’s a jolly way to travel, anyhow!” said Joe, with his usual flow of
spirits.
In fact, the doctor managed his balloon with wondrous dexterity.
“Now, if we had been compelled to go afoot over that drenched soil,”
said he, “we should still be dragging along in a pestilential mire.
Since our departure from Zanzibar, half our beasts of burden would have
died with fatigue. We should be looking like ghosts ourselves, and
despair would be seizing on our hearts. We should be in continual
squabbles with our guides and porters, and completely exposed to their
unbridled brutality. During the daytime, a damp, penetrating,
unendurable humidity! At night, a cold frequently intolerable, and the
stings of a kind of fly whose bite pierces the thickest cloth, and
drives the victim crazy! All this, too, without saying any thing about
wild beasts and ferocious native tribes!”
“I move that we don’t try it!” said Joe, in his droll way.
“I exaggerate nothing,” continued Ferguson, “for, upon reading the
narratives of such travellers as have had the hardihood to venture into
these regions, your eyes would fill with tears.”
About eleven o’clock they were passing over the basin of Imenge, and
the tribes scattered over the adjacent hills were impotently menacing
the _Victoria_ with their weapons. Finally, she sped along as far as
the last undulations of the country which precede Rubeho. These form
the last and loftiest chain of the mountains of Usagara.
The aëronauts took careful and complete note of the orographic
conformation of the country. The three ramifications mentioned, of
which the Duthumi forms the first link, are separated by immense
longitudinal plains. These elevated summits consist of rounded cones,
between which the soil is bestrewn with erratic blocks of stone and
gravelly bowlders. The most abrupt declivity of these mountains
confronts the Zanzibar coast, but the western slopes are merely
inclined planes. The depressions in the soil are covered with a black,
rich loam, on which there is a vigorous vegetation. Various
water-courses filter through, toward the east, and work their way
onward to flow into the Kingani, in the midst of gigantic clumps of
sycamore, tamarind, calabash, and palmyra trees.
“Attention!” said Dr. Ferguson. “We are approaching Rubeho, the name of
which signifies, in the language of the country, the ‘Passage of the
Winds,’ and we would do well to double its jagged pinnacles at a
certain height. If my chart be exact, we are going to ascend to an
elevation of five thousand feet.”
“Shall we often have occasion to reach those far upper belts of the
atmosphere?”
“Very seldom: the height of the African mountains appears to be quite
moderate compared with that of the European and Asiatic ranges; but, in
any case, our good _Victoria_ will find no difficulty in passing over
them.”
In a very little while, the gas expanded under the action of the heat,
and the balloon took a very decided ascensional movement. Besides, the
dilation of the hydrogen involved no danger, and only three-fourths of
the vast capacity of the balloon was filled when the barometer, by a
depression of eight inches, announced an elevation of six thousand
feet.
“Shall we go this high very long?” asked Joe.
“The atmosphere of the earth has a height of six thousand fathoms,”
said the doctor; “and, with a very large balloon, one might go far.
That is what Messrs. Brioschi and Gay-Lussac did; but then the blood
burst from their mouths and ears. Respirable air was wanting. Some
years ago, two fearless Frenchmen, Messrs. Barral and Bixio, also
ventured into the very lofty regions; but their balloon burst—”
“And they fell?” asked Kennedy, abruptly.
“Certainly they did; but as learned men should always fall—namely,
without hurting themselves.”
“Well, gentlemen,” said Joe, “you may try their fall over again, if you
like; but, as for me, who am but a dolt, I prefer keeping at the medium
height—neither too far up, nor too low down. It won’t do to be too
ambitious.”
At the height of six thousand feet, the density of the atmosphere has
already greatly diminished; sound is conveyed with difficulty, and the
voice is not so easily heard. The view of objects becomes confused; the
gaze no longer takes in any but large, quite ill-distinguishable
masses; men and animals on the surface become absolutely invisible; the
roads and rivers get to look like threads, and the lakes dwindle to
ponds.
The doctor and his friends felt themselves in a very anomalous
condition; an atmospheric current of extreme velocity was bearing them
away beyond arid mountains, upon whose summits vast fields of snow
surprised the gaze; while their convulsed appearance told of Titanic
travail in the earliest epoch of the world’s existence.
The sun shone at the zenith, and his rays fell perpendicularly upon
those lonely summits. The doctor took an accurate design of these
mountains, which form four distinct ridges almost in a straight line,
the northernmost being the longest.
The _Victoria_ soon descended the slope opposite to the Rubeho,
skirting an acclivity covered with woods, and dotted with trees of very
deep-green foliage. Then came crests and ravines, in a sort of desert
which preceded the Ugogo country; and lower down were yellow plains,
parched and fissured by the intense heat, and, here and there, bestrewn
with saline plants and brambly thickets.
Some underbrush, which, farther on, became forests, embellished the
horizon. The doctor went nearer to the ground; the anchors were thrown
out, and one of them soon caught in the boughs of a huge sycamore.
Joe, slipping nimbly down the tree, carefully attached the anchor, and
the doctor left his cylinder at work to a certain degree in order to
retain sufficient ascensional force in the balloon to keep it in the
air. Meanwhile the wind had suddenly died away.
“Now,” said Ferguson, “take two guns, friend Dick—one for yourself and
one for Joe—and both of you try to bring back some nice cuts of
antelope-meat; they will make us a good dinner.”
“Off to the hunt!” exclaimed Kennedy, joyously.
He climbed briskly out of the car and descended. Joe had swung himself
down from branch to branch, and was waiting for him below, stretching
his limbs in the mean time.
“Don’t fly away without us, doctor!” shouted Joe.
“Never fear, my boy!—I am securely lashed. I’ll spend the time getting
my notes into shape. A good hunt to you! but be careful. Besides, from
my post here, I can observe the face of the country, and, at the least
suspicious thing I notice, I’ll fire a signal-shot, and with that you
must rally home.”
“Agreed!” said Kennedy; and off they went.