Cinq semaines en ballon. English

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SECOND.

  The Jet of Light.--The Missionary.--The Rescue in a Ray ofElectricity.--A Lazarist Priest.--But little Hope.--The Doctor'sCare.--A Life of Self-Denial.--Passing a Volcano.

  Dr. Ferguson darted his powerful electric jet toward various points ofspace, and caused it to rest on a spot from which shouts of terror wereheard. His companions fixed their gaze eagerly on the place.

  The baobab, over which the balloon was hanging almost motionless, stoodin the centre of a clearing, where, between fields of Indian-corn andsugar-cane, were seen some fifty low, conical huts, around which swarmeda numerous tribe.

  A hundred feet below the balloon stood a large post, or stake, and atits foot lay a human being--a young man of thirty years or more, withlong black hair, half naked, wasted and wan, bleeding, covered withwounds, his head bowed over upon his breast, as Christ's was, when Hehung upon the cross.

  The hair, cut shorter on the top of his skull, still indicated the placeof a half-effaced tonsure.

  "A missionary! a priest!" exclaimed Joe.

  "Poor, unfortunate man!" said Kennedy.

  "We must save him, Dick!" responded the doctor; "we must save him!"

  The crowd of blacks, when they saw the balloon over their heads, likea huge comet with a train of dazzling light, were seized with a terrorthat may be readily imagined. Upon hearing their cries, the prisonerraised his head. His eyes gleamed with sudden hope, and, without toothoroughly comprehending what was taking place, he stretched out hishands to his unexpected deliverers.

  "He is alive!" exclaimed Ferguson. "God be praised! The savages have gota fine scare, and we shall save him! Are you ready, friends?"

  "Ready, doctor, at the word."

  "Joe, shut off the cylinder!"

  The doctor's order was executed. An almost imperceptible breath of airimpelled the balloon directly over the prisoner, at the same time thatit gently lowered with the contraction of the gas. For about ten minutesit remained floating in the midst of luminous waves, for Fergusoncontinued to flash right down upon the throng his glowing sheaf of rays,which, here and there, marked out swift and vivid sheets of light.The tribe, under the influence of an indescribable terror, disappearedlittle by little in the huts, and there was complete solitude aroundthe stake. The doctor had, therefore, been right in counting upon thefantastic appearance of the balloon throwing out rays, as vivid as thesun's, through this intense gloom.

  The car was approaching the ground; but a few of the savages, moreaudacious than the rest, guessing that their victim was about to escapefrom their clutches, came back with loud yells, and Kennedy seized hisrifle. The doctor, however, besought him not to fire.

  The priest, on his knees, for he had not the strength to stand erect,was not even fastened to the stake, his weakness rendering thatprecaution superfluous. At the instant when the car was close to theground, the brawny Scot, laying aside his rifle, and seizing the priestaround the waist, lifted him into the car, while, at the same moment,Joe tossed over the two hundred pounds of ballast.

  The doctor had expected to ascend rapidly, but, contrary to hiscalculations, the balloon, after going up some three or four feet,remained there perfectly motionless.

  "What holds us?" he asked, with an accent of terror.

  Some of the savages were running toward them, uttering ferocious cries.

  "Ah, ha!" said Joe, "one of those cursed blacks is hanging to the car!"

  "Dick! Dick!" cried the doctor, "the water-tank!"

  Kennedy caught his friend's idea on the instant, and, snatching up withdesperate strength one of the water-tanks weighing about one hundredpounds, he tossed it overboard. The balloon, thus suddenly lightened,made a leap of three hundred feet into the air, amid the howlings of thetribe whose prisoner thus escaped them in a blaze of dazzling light.

  "Hurrah!" shouted the doctor's comrades.

  Suddenly, the balloon took a fresh leap, which carried it up to anelevation of a thousand feet.

  "What's that?" said Kennedy, who had nearly lost his balance.

  "Oh! nothing; only that black villain leaving us!" replied the doctor,tranquilly, and Joe, leaning over, saw the savage that had clung to thecar whirling over and over, with his arms outstretched in the air, andpresently dashed to pieces on the ground. The doctor then separated hiselectric wires, and every thing was again buried in profound obscurity.It was now one o'clock in the morning.

  The Frenchman, who had swooned away, at length opened his eyes.

  "You are saved!" were the doctor's first words.

  "Saved!" he with a sad smile replied in English, "saved from a crueldeath! My brethren, I thank you, but my days are numbered, nay, even myhours, and I have but little longer to live."

  With this, the missionary, again yielding to exhaustion, relapsed intohis fainting-fit.

  "He is dying!" said Kennedy.

  "No," replied the doctor, bending over him, "but he is very weak; so letus lay him under the awning."

  And they did gently deposit on their blankets that poor, wasted body,covered with scars and wounds, still bleeding where fire and steel had,in twenty places, left their agonizing marks. The doctor, taking an oldhandkerchief, quickly prepared a little lint, which he spread over thewounds, after having washed them. These rapid attentions were bestowedwith the celerity and skill of a practised surgeon, and, when they werecomplete, the doctor, taking a cordial from his medicine-chest, poured afew drops upon his patient's lips.

  The latter feebly pressed his kind hands, and scarcely had the strengthto say, "Thank you! thank you!"

  The doctor comprehended that he must be left perfectly quiet; so heclosed the folds of the awning and resumed the guidance of the balloon.

  The latter, after taking into account the weight of the new passenger,had been lightened of one hundred and eighty pounds, and thereforekept aloft without the aid of the cylinder. At the first dawn of day,a current drove it gently toward the west-northwest. The doctor wentin under the awning for a moment or two, to look at his still sleepingpatient.

  "May Heaven spare the life of our new companion! Have you any hope?"said the Scot.

  "Yes, Dick, with care, in this pure, fresh atmosphere."

  "How that man has suffered!" said Joe, with feeling. "He did bolderthings than we've done, in venturing all alone among those savagetribes!"

  "That cannot be questioned," assented the hunter.

  During the entire day the doctor would not allow the sleep of hispatient to be disturbed. It was really a long stupor, broken only byan occasional murmur of pain that continued to disquiet and agitate thedoctor greatly.

  Toward evening the balloon remained stationary in the midst of thegloom, and during the night, while Kennedy and Joe relieved each otherin carefully tending the sick man, Ferguson kept watch over the safetyof all.

  By the morning of the next day, the balloon had moved, but veryslightly, to the westward. The dawn came up pure and magnificent. Thesick man was able to call his friends with a stronger voice. They raisedthe curtains of the awning, and he inhaled with delight the keen morningair.

  "How do you feel to-day?" asked the doctor.

  "Better, perhaps," he replied. "But you, my friends, I have not seenyou yet, excepting in a dream! I can, indeed, scarcely recall what hasoccurred. Who are you--that your names may not be forgotten in my dyingprayers?"

  "We are English travellers," replied Ferguson. "We are trying to crossAfrica in a balloon, and, on our way, we have had the good fortune torescue you."

  "Science has its heroes," said the missionary.

  "But religion its martyrs!" rejoined the Scot.

  "Are you a missionary?" asked the doctor.

  "I am a priest of the Lazarist mission. Heaven sent you to me--Heavenbe praised! The sacrifice of my life had been accomplished! But you comefrom Europe; tell me about Europe, about France! I have been withoutnews for the last five years!"

  "Five years! alone! and among these savages!" exclaimed Kennedy withamazement.
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  "They are souls to redeem! ignorant and barbarous brethren, whomreligion alone can instruct and civilize."

  Dr. Ferguson, yielding to the priest's request, talked to him long andfully about France. He listened eagerly, and his eyes filled with tears.He seized Kennedy's and Joe's hands by turns in his own, which wereburning with fever. The doctor prepared him some tea, and he drank itwith satisfaction. After that, he had strength enough to raise himselfup a little, and smiled with pleasure at seeing himself borne alongthrough so pure a sky.

  "You are daring travellers!" he said, "and you will succeed in your boldenterprise. You will again behold your relatives, your friends, yourcountry--you--"

  At this moment, the weakness of the young missionary became so extremethat they had to lay him again on the bed, where a prostration, lastingfor several hours, held him like a dead man under the eye of Dr.Ferguson. The latter could not suppress his emotion, for he felt thatthis life now in his charge was ebbing away. Were they then so soonto lose him whom they had snatched from an agonizing death? The doctoragain washed and dressed the young martyr's frightful wounds, and had tosacrifice nearly his whole stock of water to refresh his burning limbs.He surrounded him with the tenderest and most intelligent care, until,at length, the sick man revived, little by little, in his arms, andrecovered his consciousness if not his strength.

  The doctor was able to gather something of his history from his brokenmurmurs.

  "Speak in your native language," he said to the sufferer; "I understandit, and it will fatigue you less."

  The missionary was a poor young man from the village of Aradon, inBrittany, in the Morbihan country. His earliest instincts had drawn himtoward an ecclesiastical career, but to this life of self-sacrifice hewas also desirous of joining a life of danger, by entering the missionof the order of priesthood of which St. Vincent de Paul was the founder,and, at twenty, he quitted his country for the inhospitable shores ofAfrica. From the sea-coast, overcoming obstacles, little by little,braving all privations, pushing onward, afoot, and praying, he hadadvanced to the very centre of those tribes that dwell among thetributary streams of the Upper Nile. For two years his faith wasspurned, his zeal denied recognition, his charities taken in illpart, and he remained a prisoner to one of the cruelest tribes of theNyambarra, the object of every species of maltreatment. But stillhe went on teaching, instructing, and praying. The tribe having beendispersed and he left for dead, in one of those combats which areso frequent between the tribes, instead of retracing his steps, hepersisted in his evangelical mission. His most tranquil time was when hewas taken for a madman. Meanwhile, he had made himself familiar with theidioms of the country, and he catechised in them. At length, during twomore long years, he traversed these barbarous regions, impelled bythat superhuman energy that comes from God. For a year past he had beenresiding with that tribe of the Nyam-Nyams known as the Barafri, one ofthe wildest and most ferocious of them all. The chief having died a fewdays before our travellers appeared, his sudden death was attributed tothe missionary, and the tribe resolved to immolate him. His sufferingshad already continued for the space of forty hours, and, as the doctorhad supposed, he was to have perished in the blaze of the noonday sun.When he heard the sound of fire-arms, nature got the best of him, andhe had cried out, "Help! help!" He then thought that he must have beendreaming, when a voice, that seemed to come from the sky, had utteredwords of consolation.

  "I have no regrets," he said, "for the life that is passing away fromme; my life belongs to God!"

  "Hope still!" said the doctor; "we are near you, and we will save younow, as we saved you from the tortures of the stake."

  "I do not ask so much of Heaven," said the priest, with resignation."Blessed be God for having vouchsafed to me the joy before I die ofhaving pressed your friendly hands, and having heard, once more, thelanguage of my country!"

  The missionary here grew weak again, and the whole day went by betweenhope and fear, Kennedy deeply moved, and Joe drawing his hand over hiseyes more than once when he thought that no one saw him.

  The balloon made little progress, and the wind seemed as thoughunwilling to jostle its precious burden.

  Toward evening, Joe discovered a great light in the west. Under moreelevated latitudes, it might have been mistaken for an immense auroraborealis, for the sky appeared on fire. The doctor very attentivelyexamined the phenomenon.

  "It is, perhaps, only a volcano in full activity," said he.

  "But the wind is carrying us directly over it," replied Kennedy.

  "Very well, we shall cross it then at a safe height!" said the doctor.

  Three hours later, the Victoria was right among the mountains. Her exactposition was twenty-four degrees fifteen minutes east longitude,and four degrees forty-two minutes north latitude, and four degreesforty-two minutes north latitude. In front of her a volcanic crater waspouring forth torrents of melted lava, and hurling masses of rock to anenormous height. There were jets, too, of liquid fire that fell back indazzling cascades--a superb but dangerous spectacle, for the wind withunswerving certainty was carrying the balloon directly toward thisblazing atmosphere.

  This obstacle, which could not be turned, had to be crossed, so thecylinder was put to its utmost power, and the balloon rose to the heightof six thousand feet, leaving between it and the volcano a space of morethan three hundred fathoms.

  From his bed of suffering, the dying missionary could contemplate thatfiery crater from which a thousand jets of dazzling flame were thatmoment escaping.

  "How grand it is!" said he, "and how infinite is the power of God evenin its most terrible manifestations!"

  This overflow of blazing lava wrapped the sides of the mountain with averitable drapery of flame; the lower half of the balloon glowed redlyin the upper night; a torrid heat ascended to the car, and Dr. Fergusonmade all possible haste to escape from this perilous situation.

  By ten o'clock the volcano could be seen only as a red point on thehorizon, and the balloon tranquilly pursued her course in a lesselevated zone of the atmosphere.