“I will tell you. In 1854 a Marabout of the Senegalese Fouta, Al-Hadji by name, declaring himself to be inspired like Mohammed, stirred up all the tribes to war against the infidels—that is to say, against the Europeans. He carried destruction and desolation over the regions between the Senegal River and its tributary, the Fatémé. Three hordes of fanatics led on by him scoured the country, sparing neither a village nor a hut in their pillaging, massacring career. He advanced in person on the town of Ségo, which was a long time threatened. In 1857 he worked up farther to the northward, and invested the fortification of Medina, built by the French on the bank of the river. This stronghold was defended by Paul Holl, who, for several months, without provisions or ammunition, held out until Colonel Faidherbe came to his relief. Al-Hadji and his bands then repassed the Senegal, and reappeared in the Kaarta, continuing their rapine and murder.—Well, here below us is the very country in which he has found refuge with his hordes of banditti; and I assure you that it would not be a good thing to fall into his hands.” “We shall not,” said Joe, “even if we have to throw overboard our clothes to save the _Victoria_.” “We are not far from the river,” said the doctor, “but I foresee that our balloon will not be able to carry us beyond it.” “Let us reach its banks, at all events,” said the Scot, “and that will be so much gained.” “That is what we are trying to do,” rejoined Ferguson, “only that one thing makes me feel anxious.” “What is that?” “We shall have mountains to pass, and that will be difficult to do, since I cannot augment the ascensional force of the balloon, even with the greatest possible heat that I can produce.” “Well, wait a bit,” said Kennedy, “and we shall see!” “The poor _Victoria!_” sighed Joe; “I had got fond of her as the sailor does of his ship, and I’ll not give her up so easily. She may not be what she was at the start—granted; but we shouldn’t say a word against her. She has done us good service, and it would break my heart to desert her.” “Be at your ease, Joe; if we leave her, it will be in spite of ourselves. She’ll serve us until she’s completely worn out, and I ask of her only twenty-four hours more!” “Ah, she’s getting used up! She grows thinner and thinner,” said Joe, dolefully, while he eyed her. “Poor balloon!” “Unless I am deceived,” said Kennedy, “there on the horizon are the mountains of which you were speaking, doctor.” “Yes, there they are, indeed!” exclaimed the doctor, after having examined them through his spy-glass, “and they look very high. We shall have some trouble in crossing them.” “Can we not avoid them?” “I am afraid not, Dick. See what an immense space they occupy—nearly one-half of the horizon!” “They even seem to shut us in,” added Joe. “They are gaining on both our right and our left.” “We must then pass over them.”