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Verne, Jules, 1828-1905

"Five Weeks in a Balloon"


The wind, which had been scarcely perceptible, seemed
still to diminish, and the doctor in perfect desperation
descended toward the ground, and all three of the travellers,
whom the incident just recorded had, for a few moments,
diverted from their anxieties, relapsed into gloomy
meditation, sweltering the while beneath the scorching
heat.
About four o'clock, Joe descried some object standing
out against the vast background of sand, and soon was
able to declare positively that there were two palm-trees
at no great distance.
"Palm-trees!" exclaimed Ferguson; "why, then
there's a spring--a well!"
He took up his glass and satisfied himself that Joe's
eyes had not been mistaken.
"At length!" he said, over and over again, "water!
water! and we are saved; for if we do move slowly, still
we move, and we shall arrive at last!"
"Good, master! but suppose we were to drink a mouthful
in the mean time, for this air is stifling?"
"Let us drink then, my boy!"
No one waited to be coaxed. A whole pint was swallowed
then and there, reducing the total remaining supply
to three pints and a half.
"Ah! that does one good!" said Joe; "wasn't it
fine? Barclay and Perkins never turned out ale equal to
that!"
"See the advantage of being put on short allowance!"
moralized the doctor.


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