VERNANIA: The Celebrated Works of Jules Verne in One Edition. Жюль Верн

noise is increasing,” said Kennedy, again, after a lapse of a few moments.

      “Yes! something’s coming up toward us—climbing.”

      “Keep watch on this side, and I’ll take care of the other.”

      “Very good!”

      There they were, isolated at the top of one of the larger branches shooting out in the midst of one of those miniature forests called baobab-trees. The darkness, heightened by the density of the foliage, was profound; however, Joe, leaning over to Kennedy’s ear and pointing down the tree, whispered:

      “The blacks! They’re climbing toward us.”

      The two friends could even catch the sound of a few words uttered in the lowest possible tones.

      Joe gently brought his rifle to his shoulder as he spoke.

      “Wait!” said Kennedy.

      Some of the natives had really climbed the baobab, and now they were seen rising on all sides, winding along the boughs like reptiles, and advancing slowly but surely, all the time plainly enough discernible, not merely to the eye but to the nostrils, by the horrible odors of the rancid grease with which they bedaub their bodies.

      Ere long, two heads appeared to the gaze of Kennedy and Joe, on a level with the very branch to which they were clinging.

      “Attention!” said Kennedy. “Fire!”

      The double concussion resounded like a thunderbolt and died away into cries of rage and pain, and in a moment the whole horde had disappeared.

      But, in the midst of these yells and howls, a strange, unexpected—nay what seemed an impossible—cry had been heard! A human voice had, distinctly, called aloud in the French language—

      “Help! help!”

      Kennedy and Joe, dumb with amazement, had regained the car immediately.

      “Did you hear that?” the doctor asked them.

      “Undoubtedly, that supernatural cry, ‘A moi! a moi!’ comes from a Frenchman in the hands of these barbarians!”

      “A traveller.”

      “A missionary, perhaps.”

      “Poor wretch!” said Kennedy, “they’re assassinating him—making a martyr of him!”

      The doctor then spoke, and it was impossible for him to conceal his emotions.

      “There can be no doubt of it,” he said; “some unfortunate Frenchman has fallen into the hands of these savages. We must not leave this place without doing all in our power to save him. When he heard the sound of our guns, he recognized an unhoped-for assistance, a providential interposition. We shall not disappoint his last hope. Are such your views?”

      “They are, doctor, and we are ready to obey you.”

      “Let us, then, lay our heads together to devise some plan, and in the morning we’ll try to rescue him.”

      “But how shall we drive off those abominable blacks?” asked Kennedy.

      “It’s quite clear to me, from the way in which they made off, that they are unacquainted with firearms. We must, therefore, profit by their fears; but we shall await daylight before acting, and then we can form our plans of rescue according to circumstances.”

      “The poor captive cannot be far off,” said Joe, “because—”

      “Help! help!” repeated the voice, but much more feebly this time.

      “The savage wretches!” exclaimed Joe, trembling with indignation. “Suppose they should kill him tonight!”

      “Do you hear, doctor,” resumed Kennedy, seizing the doctor’s hand. “Suppose they should kill him tonight!”

      “It is not at all likely, my friends. These savage tribes kill their captives in broad daylight; they must have the sunshine.”

      “Now, if I were to take advantage of the darkness to slip down to the poor fellow?” said Kennedy.

      “And I’ll go with you,” said Joe, warmly.

      “Pause, my friends—pause! The suggestion does honor to your hearts and to your courage; but you would expose us all to great peril, and do still greater harm to the unfortunate man whom you wish to aid.”

      “Why so?” asked Kennedy. “These savages are frightened and dispersed: they will not return.”

      “Dick, I implore you, heed what I say. I am acting for the common good; and if by any accident you should be taken by surprise, all would be lost.”

      “But, think of that poor wretch, hoping for aid, waiting there, praying, calling aloud. Is no one to go to his assistance? He must think that his senses deceived him; that he heard nothing!”

      “We can reassure him, on that score,” said Dr. Ferguson —and, standing erect, making a speaking-trumpet of his hands, he shouted at the top of his voice, in French: “Whoever you are, be of good cheer! Three friends are watching over you.”

      A terrific howl from the savages responded to these words—no doubt drowning the prisoner’s reply.

      “They are murdering him! they are murdering him!” exclaimed Kennedy. “Our interference will have served no other purpose than to hasten the hour of his doom. We must act!”

      “But how, Dick? What do you expect to do in the midst of this darkness?”

      “Oh, if it was only daylight!” sighed Joe.

      “Well, and suppose it were daylight?” said the doctor, in a singular tone.

      “Nothing more simple, doctor,” said Kennedy. “I’d go down and scatter all these savage villains with powder and ball!”

      “And you, Joe, what would you do?”

      “I, master? why, I’d act more prudently, maybe, by telling the prisoner to make his escape in a certain direction that we’d agree upon.”

      “And how would you get him to know that?”

      “By means of this arrow that I caught flying the other day. I’d tie a note to it, or I’d just call out to him in a loud voice what you want him to do, because these black fellows don’t understand the language that you’d speak in!”

      “Your plans are impracticable, my dear friends. The greatest difficulty would be for this poor fellow to escape at all—even admitting that he should manage to elude the vigilance of his captors. As for you, my dear Dick, with determined daring, and profiting by their alarm at our firearms, your project might possibly succeed; but, were it to fail, you would be lost, and we should have two persons to save instead of one. No! we must put ALL the chances on OUR side, and go to work differently.”

      “But let us act at once!” said the hunter.

      “Perhaps we may,” said the doctor, throwing considerable stress upon the words.

      “Why, doctor, can you light up such darkness as this?”

      “Who knows, Joe?”

      “Ah! if you can do that, you’re the greatest learned man in the world!”

      The doctor kept silent for a few moments; he was thinking. His two companions looked at him with much emotion, for they were greatly excited by the strangeness of the situation. Ferguson at last resumed:

      “Here is my plan: We have two hundred pounds of ballast left, since the bags we brought with us are still untouched. I’ll suppose that this prisoner, who is evidently exhausted by suffering, weighs as much as one of us; there will still remain sixty pounds of ballast to throw out, in case we should want to ascend suddenly.”

      “How