"Evidently," thought he, "these chaps saw the Victoria
skimming the waters of the lake, like a monster of the
air. They were the distant witnesses of my tumble, and
they can't fail to have some respect for a man that fell
from the sky! Let them have their own way, then."
Joe was at this stage of his meditations, when he was
landed amid a yelling crowd of both sexes, and all ages
and sizes, but not of all colors. In fine, he was surrounded
by a tribe of Biddiomahs as black as jet. Nor had he to
blush for the scantiness of his costume, for he saw that he
was in "undress" in the highest style of that country.
But before he had time to form an exact idea of the
situation, there was no mistaking the agitation of which
he instantly became the object, and this soon enabled him
to pluck up courage, although the adventure of Kazah did
come back rather vividly to his memory.
"I foresee that they are going to make a god of me
again," thought he, "some son of the moon most likely.
Well, one trade's as good as another when a man has no
choice. The main thing is to gain time. Should the
Victoria pass this way again, I'll take advantage of my
new position to treat my worshippers here to a miracle
when I go sailing up into the sky!"
While Joe's thoughts were running thus, the throng
pressed around him.
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