And what was the engineer going to do with his prisoners? Was he going to keep them in his power and condemn3 them to perpetual aviation? Or was he going to take them on a trip over Africa, South America, Australasia, the Indian Ocean, the Atlantic and the Pacific, to convince them against their will, and then dismiss them with, "And now gentlemen, I hope you will believe a little more in heavier than air?"
To these questions, it is now impossible to reply. They are the secrets of the future. Perhaps the answers will be revealed. Anyhow the bird-like Robur was not seeking his nest on the northern frontier of Africa. By the end of the day he had traversed Tunis from Cape4 Bon to Cape Carthage, sometimes hovering5, and sometimes darting6 along at top speed. Soon he reached the interior, and flew down the beautiful valley of Medjeida above its yellow stream hidden under its luxuriant bushes of cactus7 and oleander; and scared away the hundreds of parrots that perch8 on the telegraph wires and seem to wait for the messages to pass to bear them away beneath their wings.
Two hours after sunset the helm was put up and the "Albatross" bore off to the southeast; and on the morrow, after clearing the Tell Mountains, she saw the rising of the morning star over the sands of the Sahara.
On the 30th of July there was seen from the aeronef the little village of Geryville, founded like Laghouat on the frontier of the desert to facilitate the future conquest of Kabylia. Next, not without difficulty, the peaks of Stillero were passed against a somewhat boisterous9 wind. Then the desert was crossed, sometimes leisurely10 over the Ksars or green oases11, sometimes at terrific speed that far outstripped12 the flight of the vultures. Often the crew had to fire into the flocks of these birds which, a dozen or so at a time, fearlessly hurled13 them selves on to the aeronef to the extreme terror of Frycollin.
But if the vultures could only reply with cries and blows of beaks14 and talons15, the natives, in no way less savage16, were not sparing of their musket-shots, particularly when crossing the Mountain of Sel, whose green and violet slope bore its cape of white. Then the "Albatross" was at last over the grand Sahara; and at once she rose into the higher zones so as to escape from a simoom which was sweeping17 a wave of ruddy sand along the surface of the ground like a bore on the surface of the sea.
Then the desolate18 tablelands of Chetka scattered19 their ballast in blackish waves up to the fresh and verdant20 valley of Ain-Massin. It is difficult to conceive the variety of the territories which could be seen at one view. To the green hills covered with trees and shrubs21 there succeeded long gray undulations draped like the folds of an Arab burnous and broken in picturesque22 masses. In the distance could be seen the wadys with their torrential waters, their forests of palm-trees, and blocks of small houses grouped on a hill around a mosque23, among them Metlili, where there vegetates24 a religious chief, the grand marabout Sidi Chick.
Before night several hundred miles had been accomplished25 above a flattish country ridged occasionally with large sandhills. If the "Albatross" had halted, she would have come to the earth in the depths of the Wargla oasis26 hidden beneath an immense forest of palm-trees. The town was clearly enough displayed with its three distinct quarters, the ancient palace of the Sultan, a kind of fortified27 Kasbah, houses of brick which had been left to the sun to bake, and artesian wells dug in the valley—where the aeronef could have renewed her water supply. But, thanks to her extraordinary speed, the waters of the Hydaspes taken in the vale of Cashmere still filled her tanks in the center of the African desert.
Was the "Albatross" seen by the Arabs, the Mozabites, and the Negroes who share amongst them the town of Wargla? Certainly, for she was saluted28 with many hundred gunshot, and the bullets fell back before they reached her.
Then came the night, that silent night in the desert of which Felicien David has so poetically29 told us the secrets.
During the following hours the course lay southwesterly, cutting across the routes of El Golea, one of which was explored in 1859 by the intrepid30 Duveyrier.
The darkness was profound. Nothing could be seen of the Trans-Saharan Railway constructing on the plans of Duponchel—a long ribbon of iron destined31 to bind32 together Algiers and Timbuktu by way of Laghouat and Gardaia, and destined eventually to run down into the Gulf33 of Guinea.
Then the "Albatross" entered the equatorial region below the tropic of Cancer. Six hundred miles from the northern frontier of the Sahara she crossed the route on which Major Laing met his, death in 1846, and crossed the road of the caravans34 from Morocco to the Sudan, and that part of the desert swept by the Tuaregs, where could be heard what is called "the song of the sand," a soft and plaintive35 murmur36 that seems to escape from the ground.
Only one thing happened. A cloud of locusts37 came flying along, and there fell such a cargo38 of them on board as to threaten to sink the ship. But all hands set to work to clear the deck, and the locusts were thrown over except a few hundred kept by Tapage for his larder39. And he served them up in so succulent a fashion that Frycollin forgot for the moment his perpetual trances and said, "these are as good as prawns40."
The aeronef was then eleven hundred miles from the Wargla oasis and almost on the northern frontier of the Sudan. About two o'clock in the afternoon a city appeared in the bend of a large river. The river was the Niger. The city was Timbuktu.
If, up to then, this African Mecca had only been visited by the travelers of the ancient world Batouta, Khazan, Imbert, Mungo Park, Adams, Laing, Caillé, Barth, Lenz, on that day by a most singular chance the two Americans could boast of having seen, heard, and smelt41 it, on their return to America—if they ever got back there.
Of having seen it, because their view included the whole triangle of three or four miles in circumference42; of having heard it, because the day was one of some rejoicing and the noise was terrible; of having smelt it, because the olfactory43 nerve could not but be very disagreeably affected44 by the odors of the Youbou-Kamo square, where the meatmarket stands close to the palace of the ancient Somai kings.
The engineer had no notion of allowing the president and secretary of the Weldon Institute to be ignorant that they had the honor of contemplating45 the Queen of the Sudan, now in the power of the Tuaregs of Taganet.
"Gentlemen, Timbuktu!" he said, in the same tone as twelve days before he had said, "Gentlemen, India!" Then he continued, "Timbuktu is an important city of from twelve to thirteen thousand inhabitants, formerly46 illustrious in science and art. Perhaps you would like to stay there for a day or two?"
Such a proposal could only have been made ironically. "But," continued he, "it would be dangerous among the Negroes, Berbers, and Foullanes who occupy, it—particularly as our arrival in an aeronef might prejudice them against you."
"Sir," said Phil Evans, in the same tone, "for the pleasure of leaving you we would willingly risk an unpleasant reception from the natives. Prison for prison, we would rather be in Timbuktu than on the "Albatross.""
"That is a matter of taste," answered the engineer. "Anyhow, I shall not try the adventure, for I am responsible for the safety of the guests who do me the honor to travel with me."
"And so," said Uncle Prudent47, explosively, "you are not content with being our jailer, but you insult us."
"Oh! a little irony48, that is all!"
"Are there any weapons on board?"
"Oh, quite an arsenal49."
"Two revolvers will do, if I hold one and you the other."
"A duel50!" exclaimed Robur, "a duel, which would perhaps cause the death of one of us."
"Which certainly would cause it."
"Well! No, Mr. President of the Weldon Institute, I very much prefer keeping you alive."
"To be sure of living yourself. That is wise."
"Wise or not, it suits me. You are at liberty to think as you like, and to complain to those who have the power to help you—if you can."
"And that we have done, Mr. Robur."
"Indeed!"
"Was it so difficult when we were crossing the inhabited part of Europe to drop a letter overboard?"
"Did you do that?" said Robur, in a paroxysm of rage.
"And if we have done it?"
"If you have done it—you deserve—"
"What, sir?"
"To follow your letter overboard."
"Throw us over, then. We did do it."
Robur stepped towards them. At a gesture from him Tom Turner and some of the crew ran up. The engineer was seriously tempted51 to put his threat into execution, and, fearful perhaps of yielding to it, he precipitately52 rushed into his cabin.
"Good!" exclaimed Phil Evans.
"And what he will dare not do," said Uncle Prudent, "I Will do! Yes, I Will do!"
At the moment the population of Timbuktu were crowding onto the squares and roads and the terraces built like amphitheaters. In the rich quarters of Sankere and Sarahama, as in the miserable53 huts at Raguidi, the priests from the minarets54 were thundering their loudest maledictions against the aerial monster. These were more harmless than the rifle-bullets; though assuredly, if the aeronef had come to earth she would have certainly been torn to pieces.
For some miles noisy flocks of storks55, francolins, and ibises escorted the "Albatross" and tried to race her, but in her rapid flight she soon distanced them.
The evening came. The air was troubled by the roarings of the numerous herds56 of elephants and
Join or Log In!
You need to log in to continue reading