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Verne, Jules, 1828-1905

"Five Weeks in a Balloon"


"Ah! the savages!" cried Joe again; "they have set
fire to the forest so as to be the more certain of burning
us up."
"The Talabas! Al-Hadji's marabouts, no doubt," said
the doctor.
A circle of fire hemmed the Victoria in; the crackling
of the dry wood mingled with the hissing and sputtering
of the green branches; the clambering vines, the foliage,
all the living part of this vegetation, writhed in the
destructive element. The eye took in nothing but one vast
ocean of flame; the large trees stood forth in black relief
in this huge furnace, their branches covered with glowing
coals, while the whole blazing mass, the entire conflagration,
was reflected on the clouds, and the travellers could
fancy themselves enveloped in a hollow globe of fire.
"Let us escape to the ground!" shouted Kennedy,
"it is our only chance of safety!"
But Ferguson checked him with a firm grasp, and,
dashing at the anchor-rope, severed it with one well-directed
blow of his hatchet. Meanwhile, the flames, leaping up at
the balloon, already quivered on its illuminated sides; but
the Victoria, released from her fastenings, spun
upward a thousand feet into the air.
Frightful yells resounded through the forest, along
with the report of fire-arms, while the balloon, caught in a
current of air that rose with the dawn of day, was borne to
the westward.


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