Forthwith Joe went to work at his vocation. At first he made a hole in
the ground two feet deep; this he filled with the dry wood that was so
abundantly scattered about, where it had been strewn by the elephants,
whose tracks could be seen where they had made their way through the
forest. This hole filled, he heaped a pile of fagots on it a foot in
height, and set fire to it.
Then he went back to the carcass of the elephant, which had fallen only
about a hundred feet from the edge of the forest; he next proceeded
adroitly to cut off the trunk, which might have been two feet in
diameter at the base; of this he selected the most delicate portion,
and then took with it one of the animal’s spongy feet. In fact, these
are the finest morsels, like the hump of the bison, the paws of the
bear, and the head of the wild boar.
When the pile of fagots had been thoroughly consumed, inside and
outside, the hole, cleared of the cinders and hot coals, retained a
very high temperature. The pieces of elephant-meat, surrounded with
aromatic leaves, were placed in this extempore oven and covered with
hot coals. Then Joe piled up a second heap of sticks over all, and when
it had burned out the meat was cooked to a turn.
Then Joe took the viands from the oven, spread the savory mess upon
green leaves, and arranged his dinner upon a magnificent patch of
greensward. He finally brought out some biscuit, some coffee, and some
cognac, and got a can of pure, fresh water from a neighboring
streamlet.
The repast thus prepared was a pleasant sight to behold, and Joe,
without being too proud, thought that it would also be pleasant to eat.
“A journey without danger or fatigue,” he soliloquized; “your meals
when you please; a swinging hammock all the time! What more could a man
ask? And there was Kennedy, who didn’t want to come!”
On his part, Dr. Ferguson was engrossed in a serious and thorough
examination of the balloon. The latter did not appear to have suffered
from the storm; the silk and the gutta percha had resisted wonderfully,
and, upon estimating the exact height of the ground and the ascensional
force of the balloon, our aëronaut saw, with satisfaction, that the
hydrogen was in exactly the same quantity as before. The covering had
remained completely water-proof.
It was now only five days since our travellers had quitted Zanzibar;
their pemmican had not yet been touched; their stock of biscuit and
potted meat was enough for a long trip, and there was nothing to be
replenished but the water.
The pipes and spiral seemed to be in perfect condition, since, thanks
to their india-rubber jointings, they had yielded to all the
oscillations of the balloon. His examination ended, the doctor betook
himself to setting his notes in order. He made a very accurate sketch
of the surrounding landscape, with its long prairie stretching away out
of sight, the forest of _calmadores_, and the balloon resting
motionless over the body of the dead elephant.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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