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Verne, Jules, 1828-1905

"Five Weeks in a Balloon"


"I see them," replied Kennedy; "there are at least a
dozen of them."
"Fourteen, exactly!" said Joe.
"Heaven grant that they may be of a kind sufficiently
noxious for the doctor to let me peg away at them!"
"I should not object, but I would much rather see
those birds at a distance from us!"
"Why, are you afraid of those fowls?"
"They are condors, and of the largest size. Should
they attack us--"
"Well, if they do, we'll defend ourselves. We have a
whole arsenal at our disposal. I don't think those birds
are so very formidable."
"Who can tell?" was the doctor's only remark.
Ten minutes later, the flock had come within gunshot,
and were making the air ring with their hoarse cries. They
came right toward the Victoria, more irritated than frightened
by her presence.
"How they scream! What a noise!" said Joe.
"Perhaps they don't like to see anybody poaching in their
country up in the air, or daring to fly like themselves!"
"Well, now, to tell the truth, when I take a good look
at them, they are an ugly, ferocious set, and I should think
them dangerous enough if they were armed with Purdy-Moore
rifles," admitted Kennedy.
"They have no need of such weapons," said Ferguson,
looking very grave.


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