With this, the _Victoria_ rose swiftly above the range of the whirling
column, but, caught in the vast displacement of the atmosphere thereby
occasioned, it was borne along with incalculable rapidity away above
this foaming sea.
The three travellers did not speak. They gazed, and hoped, and even
felt refreshed by the breath of the tempest.
About three o’clock, the whirlwind ceased; the sand, falling again upon
the desert, formed numberless little hillocks, and the sky resumed its
former tranquillity.
The balloon, which had again lost its momentum, was floating in sight
of an oasis, a sort of islet studded with green trees, thrown up upon
the surface of this sandy ocean.
“Water! we’ll find water there!” said the doctor.
And, instantly, opening the upper valve, he let some hydrogen escape,
and slowly descended, taking the ground at about two hundred feet from
the edge of the oasis.
In four hours the travellers had swept over a distance of two hundred
and forty miles!
The car was at once ballasted, and Kennedy, closely followed by Joe,
leaped out.
“Take your guns with you!” said the doctor; “take your guns, and be
careful!”
Dick grasped his rifle, and Joe took one of the fowling-pieces. They
then rapidly made for the trees, and disappeared under the fresh
verdure, which announced the presence of abundant springs. As they
hurried on, they had not taken notice of certain large footprints and
fresh tracks of some living creature marked here and there in the damp
soil.
Suddenly, a dull roar was heard not twenty paces from them.
“The roar of a lion!” said Joe.
“Good for that!” said the excited hunter; “we’ll fight him. A man feels
strong when only a fight’s in question.”
“But be careful, Mr. Kennedy; be careful! The lives of all depend upon
the life of one.”
But Kennedy no longer heard him; he was pushing on, his eye blazing;
his rifle cocked; fearful to behold in his daring rashness. There,
under a palm-tree, stood an enormous black-maned lion, crouching for a
spring on his antagonist. Scarcely had he caught a glimpse of the
hunter, when he bounded through the air; but he had not touched the
ground ere a bullet pierced his heart, and he fell to the earth dead.
“Hurrah! hurrah!” shouted Joe, with wild exultation.
Kennedy rushed toward the well, slid down the dampened steps, and flung
himself at full length by the side of a fresh spring, in which he
plunged his parched lips. Joe followed suit, and for some minutes
nothing was heard but the sound they made with their mouths, drinking
more like maddened beasts than men.
“Take care, Mr. Kennedy,” said Joe at last; “let us not overdo the
thing!” and he panted for breath.
But Kennedy, without a word, drank on. He even plunged his hands, and
then his head, into the delicious tide—he fairly revelled in its
coolness.
“But the doctor?” said Joe; “our friend, Dr. Ferguson?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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