The _Victoria_ thus relieved resumed her ascending motion, mounted a thousand feet into the air, and the wind, burying itself in the disinflated covering, bore them away toward the northern part of the lake. “Lost!” exclaimed the sportsman, with a gesture of despair. “Lost to save us!” responded Ferguson. And these men, intrepid as they were, felt the large tears streaming down their cheeks. They leaned over with the vain hope of seeing some trace of their heroic companion, but they were already far away from him. “What course shall we pursue?” asked Kennedy. “Alight as soon as possible, Dick, and then wait.” After a sweep of some sixty miles the _Victoria_ halted on a desert shore, on the north of the lake. The anchors caught in a low tree and the sportsman fastened it securely. Night came, but neither Ferguson nor Kennedy could find one moment’s sleep. CHAPTER THIRTY-THIRD. Conjectures.—Reestablishment of the Victoria’s Equilibrium.—Dr. Ferguson’s New Calculations.—Kennedy’s Hunt.—A Complete Exploration of Lake Tchad.—Tangalia.—The Return.—Lari. On the morrow, the 13th of May, our travellers, for the first time, reconnoitred the part of the coast on which they had landed. It was a sort of island of solid ground in the midst of an immense marsh. Around this fragment of _terra firma_ grew reeds as lofty as trees are in Europe, and stretching away out of sight. These impenetrable swamps gave security to the position of the balloon. It was necessary to watch only the borders of the lake. The vast stretch of water broadened away from the spot, especially toward the east, and nothing could be seen on the horizon, neither mainland nor islands. The two friends had not yet ventured to speak of their recent companion. Kennedy first imparted his conjectures to the doctor. “Perhaps Joe is not lost after all,” he said. “He was a skilful lad, and had few equals as a swimmer. He would find no difficulty in swimming across the Firth of Forth at Edinburgh. We shall see him again—but how and where I know not. Let us omit nothing on our part to give him the chance of rejoining us.” “May God grant it as you say, Dick!” replied the doctor, with much emotion. “We shall do everything in the world to find our lost friend again. Let us, in the first place, see where we are. But, above all things, let us rid the _Victoria_ of this outside covering, which is of no further use. That will relieve us of six hundred and fifty pounds, a weight not to be despised—and the end is worth the trouble!” The doctor and Kennedy went to work at once, but they encountered great difficulty. They had to tear the strong silk away piece by piece, and then cut it in narrow strips so as to extricate it from the meshes of the network. The tear made by the beaks of the condors was found to be several feet in length.