Jules Verne
translation: William Lackland

FIVE WEEKS IN A BALLOON
or Journeys and Discoveries in Africa by three Englishmen
complete book, e-book

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CHAPTER TWENTIETH.

The Celestial Bottle.—The Fig-Palms.—The Mammoth Trees.—The Tree of War.—The Winged Team.—Two Native Tribes in Battle.—A Massacre.—An Intervention from above.

The wind had become violent and irregular; the balloon was running the gantlet through the air. Tossed at one moment toward the north, at another toward the south, it could not find one steady current.

“We are moving very swiftly without advancing much,” said Kennedy, remarking the frequent oscillations of the needle of the compass.

“The balloon is rushing at the rate of at least thirty miles an hour. Lean over, and see how the country is gliding away beneath us!” said the doctor.

“See! that forest looks as though it were precipitating itself upon us!”

“The forest has become a clearing!” added the other.

“And the clearing a village!” continued Joe, a moment or two later. “Look at the faces of those astonished darkys!”

“Oh! it’s natural enough that they should be astonished,” said the doctor. “The French peasants, when they first saw a balloon, fired at it, thinking that it was an aerial monster. A Soudan negro may be excused, then, for opening his eyes VERY wide!”

“Faith!” said Joe, as the Victoria skimmed closely along the ground, at scarcely the elevation of one hundred feet, and immediately over a village, “I’ll throw them an empty bottle, with your leave, doctor, and if it reaches them safe and sound, they’ll worship it; if it breaks, they’ll make talismans of the pieces.”

So saying, he flung out a bottle, which, of course, was broken into a thousand fragments, while the negroes scampered into their round huts, uttering shrill cries.

A little farther on, Kennedy called out: “Look at that strange tree! The upper part is of one kind and the lower part of another!”

“Well!” said Joe, “here’s a country where the trees grow on top of each other.”

“It’s simply the trunk of a fig-tree,” replied the doctor, “on which there is a little vegetating earth. Some fine day, the wind left the seed of a palm on it, and the seed has taken root and grown as though it were on the plain ground.”

“A fine new style of gardening,” said Joe, “and I’ll import the idea to England. It would be just the thing in the London parks; without counting that it would be another way to increase the number of fruit-trees. We could have gardens up in the air; and the small house-owners would like that!”

At this moment, they had to raise the balloon so as to pass over a forest of trees that were more than three hundred feet in height—a kind of ancient banyan.

“What magnificent trees!” exclaimed Kennedy. “I never saw any thing so fine as the appearance of these venerable forests. Look, doctor!”

“The height of these banyans is really remarkable, my dear Dick; and yet, they would be nothing astonishing in the New World.”

“Why, are there still loftier trees in existence?”

“Undoubtedly; among the ‘mammoth trees’ of California, there is (...)

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