The Log of the Flying Fish: A Story of Aerial and Submarine Peril and AdventureCollingwood, Harry
Science
The Log of the Flying Fish: A Story of Aerial and Submarine Peril and Adventure
Collingwood, Harry
Adventure stories; Sea stories
"So be it," said the baronet. "Ancient Ophir is our next destination;
and we will start to-morrow morning. You, professor, I know will not
shrink from danger when the solving of so interesting a question is
concerned."
"Ah, ah! try me," laughed the professor joyously--"try me, my friend,
and you shall see."
Accordingly, on the following morning after breakfast a general
adjournment was made to the pilot-house, where, with map and chart
spread out before them, and the professor's treasured volume beside them
for reference, the probable site of ancient Ophir was at length
definitely located; when the course and distance were ascertained, and a
start made.
Being anxious to see as much as possible of the country during their
passage over it, a low rate of speed--averaging about twenty miles per
hour--was maintained; the day's journey beginning at six o'clock in the
morning, and terminating at the same hour in the evening, when a halt
was called and the ship brought to earth for the night.
On the fourth day of this part of their journey, shortly after effecting
their morning's start, they came within sight of an immense lake; and a
slight deviation from their prescribed course was made in order that a
thorough examination of it might be effected. A long range of hills,
which had been sighted on the previous day, lay on their left hand; and,
on clearing the southern spurs of these, they found that another large
body of water lay beyond or to the eastward of them; a river connecting
the two lakes, afterwards identified by them as lakes Albert Nyanza and
Tanganyika. Rising in the air to a height of about ten thousand feet,
they slowly traversed the latter from its northern extremity, reaching
its widest part--which they estimated to be about sixty miles across--at
mid-day.
And here a most exciting scene presented itself. An hour previously a
dark mass had been sighted near the western shore of the lake, which
mass had at first been taken for an island; but, on a nearer approach,
the supposed island had resolved itself into an immense fleet of canoes,
in number about three hundred, manned by from four to twenty men in
each, rapidly making its way toward the western shore. So large a
concourse of craft, coupled with the fact that the crews were
elaborately "got up" with paint, feathers, and skins, and were well
provided with bows and arrows, spears, shields, and clubs--to say
nothing of a few very antiquated-looking muskets which the travellers'
glasses revealed here and there--seemed to point to the conclusion that
a hostile expedition was afoot, or, rather, afloat; and the explorers
resolved upon a temporary pause in order to watch the course of events.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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