Five Weeks in a Balloon by Jules Verne (best novels to read to improve english txt) 📕

“But,” said the doctor, “are you not aware that my journey is to compete with the success of the expeditions now on foot? Don’t you know that fresh explorers are advancing toward the centre of Africa?”

“Still⁠—”

“Listen to me, Dick, and cast your eyes over that map.”

Dick glanced over it, with resignation.

“Now, ascend the course of the Nile.”

“I have ascended it,” replied the Scotchman, with docility.

“Stop at Gondokoro.”

“I am there.”

And Kennedy thought to himself how easy such a trip was⁠—on the map!

“Now, take one of the points of these dividers and let it rest upon that place beyond which the most daring explorers have scarcely gone.”

“I have done so.”

“And now look along the coast for the island of Zanzibar, in latitude six degrees south.”

“I have it.”

“Now, follow the same parallel and arrive at Kazeh.”

“I have done so.”

“Run up again along the thirty-third degree of longitude to the opening of Lake Oukéréoué, at the point where Lieutenant Speke had to halt.”

“I am there; a little more, and I should have tumbled into the lake.”

“Very good! Now, do you know what we have the right to suppose, according to the information given by the tribes that live along its shores?”

“I haven’t the least idea.”

“Why, that this lake, the lower extremity of which is in two degrees and thirty minutes, must extend also two degrees and a half above the equator.”

“Really!”

“Well from this northern extremity there flows a stream which must necessarily join the Nile, if it be not the Nile itself.”

“That is, indeed, curious.”

“Then, let the other point of your dividers rest upon that extremity of Lake Oukéréoué.”

“It is done, friend Ferguson.”

“Now, how many degrees can you count between the two points?”

“Scarcely two.”

“And do you know what that means, Dick?”

“Not the least in the world.”

“Why, that makes scarcely one hundred and twenty miles⁠—in other words, a nothing.”

“Almost nothing, Samuel.”

“Well, do you know what is taking place at this moment?”

“No, upon my honor, I do not.”

“Very well, then, I’ll tell you. The Geographical Society regard as very important the exploration of this lake of which Speke caught a glimpse. Under their auspices, Lieutenant (now Captain) Speke has associated with him Captain Grant, of the army in India; they have put themselves at the head of a numerous and well-equipped expedition; their mission is to ascend the lake and return to Gondokoro; they have received a subsidy of more than five thousand pounds, and the Governor of the Cape of Good Hope has placed Hottentot soldiers at their disposal; they set out from Zanzibar at the close of October, 1860. In the mean while John Petherick, the English consul at the city of Karthoum, has received about seven hundred pounds from the foreign office; he is to equip a steamer at Karthoum, stock it with sufficient provisions, and make his way to Gondokoro; there, he will await Captain Speke’s caravan, and be able to replenish its supplies to some extent.”

“Well planned,” said Kennedy.

“You can easily see, then, that time presses if we are to take part in these exploring labors. And that is not all, since, while some are thus advancing with sure steps to the discovery of the sources of the Nile, others are penetrating to the very heart of Africa.”

“On foot?” said Kennedy.

“Yes, on foot,” rejoined the doctor, without noticing the insinuation. “Doctor Krapf proposes to push forward, in the west, by way of the Djob, a river lying under the equator. Baron de Decken has already set out from Monbaz, has reconnoitred the mountains of Kenaia and Kilimandjaro, and is now plunging in toward the centre.”

“But all this time on foot?”

“On foot or on mules.”

“Exactly the same, so far as I am concerned,” ejaculated Kennedy.

“Lastly,” resumed the doctor, “M. de Heuglin, the Austrian vice-consul at Karthoum, has just organized a very important expedition, the first aim of which is to search for the traveller Vogel, who, in 1853, was sent into the Sudan to associate himself with the labors of Dr. Barth. In 1856, he quitted Bornou, and determined to explore the unknown country that lies between Lake Tchad and Darfur. Nothing has been seen of him since that time. Letters that were received in Alexandria, in 1860, said that he was killed at the order of the King of Wadai; but other letters, addressed by Dr. Hartmann to the traveller’s father, relate that, according to the recital of a felatah of Bornou, Vogel was merely held as a prisoner at Wara. All hope is not then lost. Hence, a committee has been organized under the presidency of the Regent of Saxe-Cogurg-Gotha; my friend Petermann is its secretary; a national subscription has provided for the expense of the expedition, whose strength has been increased by the voluntary accession of several learned men, and M. de Heuglin set out from Massowah, in the month of June. While engaged in looking for Vogel, he is also to explore all the country between the Nile and Lake Tchad, that is to say, to knit together the operations of Captain Speke and those of Dr. Barth, and then Africa will have been traversed from east to west.”1

“Well,” said the canny Scot, “since everything is getting on so well, what’s the use of our going down there?”

Dr. Ferguson made no reply, but contented himself with a significant shrug of the shoulders.

A Servant⁠—match him!⁠—He can see the satellites of Jupiter⁠—Dick and Joe hard at it⁠—Doubt and faith⁠—The weighing ceremony⁠—Joe and Wellington⁠—He gets a half-crown.

Dr. Ferguson had a servant who answered with alacrity to the name of Joe. He was an excellent fellow, who testified the most absolute confidence in his master, and the most unlimited devotion to his interests, even anticipating his wishes and orders, which were always intelligently executed. In fine, he was a Caleb without the growling, and a perfect pattern of constant good-humor. Had he been made on purpose for the place, it could not have been better done. Ferguson put himself entirely in his hands,