“Oh! we’d tame them,” said Joe. “Instead of driving them with bits,
we’d do it with eye-blinkers that would cover their eyes. Half blinded
in that way, they’d go to the right or to the left, as we desired; when
blinded completely, they would stop.”
“Allow me, Joe, to prefer a favorable wind to your team of eagles. It
costs less for fodder, and is more reliable.”
“Well, you may have your choice, master, but I stick to my idea.”
It now was noon. The _Victoria_ had been going at a more moderate speed
for some time; the country merely passed below it; it no longer flew.
Suddenly, shouts and whistlings were heard by our aëronauts, and,
leaning over the edge of the car, they saw on the open plain below them
an exciting spectacle.
Two hostile tribes were fighting furiously, and the air was dotted with
volleys of arrows. The combatants were so intent upon their murderous
work that they did not notice the arrival of the balloon; there were
about three hundred mingled confusedly in the deadly struggle: most of
them, red with the blood of the wounded, in which they fairly wallowed,
were horrible to behold.
As they at last caught sight of the balloon, there was a momentary
pause; but their yells redoubled, and some arrows were shot at the
_Victoria_, one of them coming close enough for Joe to catch it with
his hand.
“Let us rise out of range,” exclaimed the doctor; “there must be no
rashness! We are forbidden any risk.”
Meanwhile, the massacre continued on both sides, with battle-axes and
war-clubs; as quickly as one of the combatants fell, a hostile warrior
ran up to cut off his head, while the women, mingling in the fray,
gathered up these bloody trophies, and piled them together at either
extremity of the battle-field. Often, too, they even fought for these
hideous spoils.
“What a frightful scene!” said Kennedy, with profound disgust.
“They’re ugly acquaintances!” added Joe; “but then, if they had
uniforms they’d be just like the fighters of all the rest of the
world!”
“I have a keen hankering to take a hand in at that fight,” said the
hunter, brandishing his rifle.
“No! no!” objected the doctor, vehemently; “no, let us not meddle with
what don’t concern us. Do you know which is right or which is wrong,
that you would assume the part of the Almighty? Let us, rather, hurry
away from this revolting spectacle. Could the great captains of the
world float thus above the scenes of their exploits, they would at
last, perhaps, conceive a disgust for blood and conquest.”
The chieftain of one of the contending parties was remarkable for his
athletic proportions, his great height, and herculean strength. With
one hand he plunged his spear into the compact ranks of his enemies,
and with the other mowed large spaces in them with his battle-axe.
Suddenly he flung away his war-club, red with blood, rushed upon a
wounded warrior, and, chopping off his arm at a single stroke, carried
the dissevered member to his mouth, and bit it again and again.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account