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Verne, Jules, 1828-1905

"Five Weeks in a Balloon"

But not a boat, not a living creature was
to be seen. With a breadth of two thousand feet, the
Senegal precipitates itself for a height of one hundred and
fifty, with a thundering reverberation. It ran, where they
saw it, from east to west, and the line of rocks that barred
its course extended from north to south. In the midst of
the falls, rocks of strange forms started up like huge
ante-diluvian animals, petrified there amid the waters.
The impossibility of crossing this gulf was self-evident,
and Kennedy could not restrain a gesture of despair.
But Dr. Ferguson, with an energetic accent of undaunted
daring, exclaimed--
"All is not over!"
"I knew it," said Joe, with that confidence in his master
which nothing could ever shake.
The sight of the dried-up grass had inspired the doctor
with a bold idea. It was the last chance of escape. He
led his friends quickly back to where they had left the
covering of the balloon.
"We have at least an hour's start of those banditti,"
said he; "let us lose no time, my friends; gather a quantity
of this dried grass; I want a hundred pounds of it, at least."
"For what purpose?" asked Kennedy, surprised.
"I have no more gas; well, I'll cross the river with hot air!"
"Ah, doctor," exclaimed Kennedy, "you are, indeed,
a great man!"
Joe and Kennedy at once went to work, and soon had
an immense pile of dried grass heaped up near the baobab.


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