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Full Online Book HomeLong StoriesFive Weeks In A Balloon - Chapter 39
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Five Weeks In A Balloon - Chapter 39 Post by :mstangslly69 Category :Long Stories Author :Jules Verne Date :June 2011 Read :991

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Five Weeks In A Balloon - Chapter 39

CHAPTER 39

The Country in the Elbow of the Niger.--A Fantastic View of the
Hombori Mountains.--Kabra.--Timbuctoo.--The Chart of Dr. Barth.
--A Decaying City.--Whither Heaven wills.~~

During this dull Monday, Dr. Ferguson diverted his
thoughts by giving his companions a thousand details
concerning the country they were crossing. The surface,
which was quite flat, offered no impediment to their progress.
The doctor's sole anxiety arose from the obstinate
northeast wind which continued to blow furiously, and bore
them away from the latitude of Timbuctoo.

The Niger, after running northward as far as that city,
sweeps around, like an immense water-jet from some fountain,
and falls into the Atlantic in a broad sheaf. In the
elbow thus formed the country is of varied character,
sometimes luxuriantly fertile, and sometimes extremely
bare; fields of maize succeeded by wide spaces covered
with broom-corn and uncultivated plains. All kinds of
aquatic birds--pelicans, wild-duck, kingfishers, and the
rest--were seen in numerous flocks hovering about the
borders of the pools and torrents.

From time to time there appeared an encampment of
Touaregs, the men sheltered under their leather tents,
while their women were busied with the domestic toil
outside, milking their camels and smoking their
huge-bowled pipes.

By eight o'clock in the evening the Victoria had advanced
more than two hundred miles to the westward,
and our aeronauts became the spectators of a magnificent
scene.

A mass of moonbeams forcing their way through an
opening in the clouds, and gliding between the long lines
of falling rain, descended in a golden shower on the ridges
of the Hombori Mountains. Nothing could be more
weird than the appearance of these seemingly basaltic
summits; they stood out in fantastic profile against the
sombre sky, and the beholder might have fancied them to
be the legendary ruins of some vast city of the middle
ages, such as the icebergs of the polar seas sometimes
mimic them in nights of gloom.

"An admirable landscape for the 'Mysteries of Udolpho'!"
exclaimed the doctor. "Ann Radcliffe could not
have depicted yon mountains in a more appalling aspect."

"Faith!" said Joe, "I wouldn't like to be strolling
alone in the evening through this country of ghosts. Do
you see now, master, if it wasn't so heavy, I'd like to carry
that whole landscape home to Scotland! It would do for
the borders of Loch Lomond, and tourists would rush there
in crowds."

"Our balloon is hardly large enough to admit of that
little experiment--but I think our direction is changing.
Bravo!--the elves and fairies of the place are quite obliging.
See, they've sent us a nice little southeast breeze,
that will put us on the right track again."

In fact, the Victoria was resuming a more northerly
route, and on the morning of the 20th she was passing
over an inextricable network of channels, torrents, and
streams, in fine, the whole complicated tangle of the Niger's
tributaries. Many of these channels, covered with a thick
growth of herbage, resembled luxuriant meadow-lands.
There the doctor recognized the route followed by the
explorer Barth when he launched upon the river to descend
to Timbuctoo. Eight hundred fathoms broad at this point,
the Niger flowed between banks richly grown with cruciferous
plants and tamarind-trees. Herds of agile gazelles were seen
skipping about, their curling horns mingling with the tall
herbage, within which the alligator, half concealed, lay
silently in wait for them with watchful eyes.

Long files of camels and asses laden with merchandise
from Jenne were winding in under the noble trees. Ere
long, an amphitheatre of low-built houses was discovered
at a turn of the river, their roofs and terraces heaped up
with hay and straw gathered from the neighboring districts.

"There's Kabra!" exclaimed the doctor, joyously;
"there is the harbor of Timbuctoo, and the city is not
five miles from here!"

"Then, sir, you are satisfied?" half queried Joe.

"Delighted, my boy!"

"Very good; then every thing's for the best!"

In fact, about two o'clock, the Queen of the Desert,
mysterious Timbuctoo, which once, like Athens and Rome,
had her schools of learned men, and her professorships
of philosophy, stretched away before the gaze of our
travellers.

Ferguson followed the most minute details upon the
chart traced by Barth himself, and was enabled to
recognize its perfect accuracy.

The city forms an immense triangle marked out upon
a vast plain of white sand, its acute angle directed toward
the north and piercing a corner of the desert. In the environs
there was almost nothing, hardly even a few grasses,
with some dwarf mimosas and stunted bushes.

As for the appearance of Timbuctoo, the reader has but
to imagine a collection of billiard-balls and thimbles--such
is the bird's-eye view! The streets, which are quite narrow,
are lined with houses only one story in height, built
of bricks dried in the sun, and huts of straw and reeds, the
former square, the latter conical. Upon the terraces were
seen some of the male inhabitants, carelessly lounging at
full length in flowing apparel of bright colors, and lance
or musket in hand; but no women were visible at that
hour of the day.

"Yet they are said to be handsome," remarked the
doctor. "You see the three towers of the three mosques
that are the only ones left standing of a great number--
the city has indeed fallen from its ancient splendor! At
the top of the triangle rises the Mosque of Sankore, with its
ranges of galleries resting on arcades of sufficiently pure
design. Farther on, and near to the Sane-Gungu quarter,
is the Mosque of Sidi-Yahia and some two-story houses.
But do not look for either palaces or monuments: the
sheik is a mere son of traffic, and his royal palace is a
counting-house."

"It seems to me that I can see half-ruined ramparts,"
said Kennedy.

"They were destroyed by the Fouillanes in 1826; the
city was one-third larger then, for Timbuctoo, an object
generally coveted by all the tribes, since the eleventh
century, has belonged in succession to the Touaregs, the
Sonrayans, the Morocco men, and the Fouillanes; and this
great centre of civilization, where a sage like Ahmed-Baba
owned, in the sixteenth century, a library of sixteen hundred
manuscripts, is now nothing but a mere half-way house for
the trade of Central Africa."

The city, indeed, seemed abandoned to supreme neglect;
it betrayed that indifference which seems epidemic
to cities that are passing away. Huge heaps of rubbish
encumbered the suburbs, and, with the hill on which the
market-place stood, formed the only inequalities of the
ground.

When the Victoria passed, there was some slight show
of movement; drums were beaten; but the last learned
man still lingering in the place had hardly time to notice
the new phenomenon, for our travellers, driven onward
by the wind of the desert, resumed the winding course of
the river, and, ere long, Timbuctoo was nothing more than
one of the fleeting reminiscences of their journey.

"And now," said the doctor, "Heaven may waft us
whither it pleases!"

"Provided only that we go westward," added Kennedy.

"Bah!" said Joe; "I wouldn't be afraid if it was to
go back to Zanzibar by the same road, or to cross the
ocean to America."

"We would first have to be able to do that, Joe!"

"And what's wanting, doctor?"

"Gas, my boy; the ascending force of the balloon is
evidently growing weaker, and we shall need all our
management to make it carry us to the sea-coast. I shall
even have to throw over some ballast. We are too heavy."

"That's what comes of doing nothing, doctor; when a
man lies stretched out all day long in his hammock, he
gets fat and heavy. It's a lazybones trip, this of ours,
master, and when we get back every body will find us big
and stout."

"Just like Joe," said Kennedy; "just the ideas for
him: but wait a bit! Can you tell what we may have to
go through yet? We are still far from the end of our trip.
Where do you expect to strike the African coast, doctor?"

"I should find it hard to answer you, Kennedy. We
are at the mercy of very variable winds; but I should
think myself fortunate were we to strike it between Sierra
Leone and Portendick. There is a stretch of country in
that quarter where we should meet with friends."

"And it would be a pleasure to press their hands; but,
are we going in the desirable direction?"

"Not any too well, Dick; not any too well! Look at
the needle of the compass; we are bearing southward, and
ascending the Niger toward its sources."

"A fine chance to discover them," said Joe, "if they
were not known already. Now, couldn't we just find
others for it, on a pinch?"

"Not exactly, Joe; but don't be alarmed: I hardly
expect to go so far as that."

At nightfall the doctor threw out the last bags of sand.
The Victoria rose higher, and the blow-pipe, although working
at full blast, could scarcely keep her up. At that time
she was sixty miles to the southward of Timbuctoo, and in
the morning the aeronauts awoke over the banks of the
Niger, not far from Lake Debo.

Content of CHAPTER 39 (Jules Verne's novel: Five Weeks in a Balloon)

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