Once in a while, the reflection of a
wandering ray of light in the dull water disclosed a
succession of ditches regularly arranged, and, by one last
gleam, the eye could make out the calm and sombre forms
of palm-trees, sycamores, and gigantic euphorbiae.
"I am stifling!" said the Scot, inhaling, with all the
power of his lungs, as much as possible of the rarefied air.
"We are not moving an inch! Let us descend!"
"But the tempest!" said the doctor, with much uneasiness.
"If you are afraid of being carried away by the wind,
it seems to me that there is no other course to pursue."
"Perhaps the storm won't burst to-night," said Joe;
"the clouds are very high."
"That is just the thing that makes me hesitate about
going beyond them; we should have to rise still higher,
lose sight of the earth, and not know all night whether
we were moving forward or not, or in what direction we
were going."
"Make up your mind, dear doctor, for time presses!"
"It's a pity that the wind has fallen," said Joe, again;
"it would have carried us clear of the storm."
"It is, indeed, a pity, my friends," rejoined the doctor.
"The clouds are dangerous for us; they contain opposing
currents which might catch us in their eddies, and lightnings
that might set on fire.
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