Kennedy's dreams—Plural personal pronouns—Dick's insinuations—A trip over the map of Africa—The difference between the two points of a pair of compasses—Expeditions actually in progress—Speke and Grant—Krapf, von Decken and von Heuglin

DR FERGUSSON was busily pressing forward the preparations for his departure and personally supervising the construction of his balloon, employing certain devices about which he preserved complete silence. For a long time he had been studying Arabic and various Mandingo dialects. Thanks to his gift for languages he was making rapid progress.

Meanwhile his friend the sportsman never left his elbow. He was doubtless afraid that the doctor would take to the air without saying anything about it. He was still using the utmost persuasion with regard to this subject, but without success, and giving vent to pathetic appeals which had little effect. Dick felt that the doctor was slipping through his fingers.

The poor Scot was indeed to be pitied. He could no longer think of the azure heavens without dark forebodings. In his sleep he felt himself dizzily swaying, and every night he fell from incalculable heights. It must be added that during these terrible nightmares he more than once fell out of bed. On these occasions his first thought was to show Fergusson the bruises on his head.

'A drop of only three feet,' he added good-naturedly; 'certainly not more, and a bruise like this. Just think it out!'

This doleful hint did not disturb the doctor.

'We shan't fall,' he said.

'But if we do?'

'We shan't.'

That was flat; and Kennedy had no reply to make.

What particularly exasperated Dick was that the doctor seemed completely to disregard Kennedy's own personality and to regard him as irrevocably destined to be his companion in the air. There could be no further doubt about this. Samuel abused in an intolerable way the word 'we.'

'We are making good headway ... We shall be ready on the ... We shall start on the ...'

And also the word 'our': ' Our balloon ... Our car ... Our expedition ... Our preparations ... Our discoveries ... Our ascents...'

This made Dick shudder, determined as he was not to go. At the same time he did not want to vex his friend too much. It may even be admitted that without realising it he had quietly had sundry articles of clothing and his best sporting rifles sent from Edinburgh.

One day, realising that the chances of success were, with luck, one in a thousand, he pretended to give way to the doctor's wishes; but in order to postpone the voyage, launched upon a series of widely-varied evasions. He attacked the usefulness of the expedition and its opportuneness ... Was this discovery of the sources of the Nile really necessary?... Would they really be working for the good of humanity? ... After all, even if the African tribes were to be civilised, would they be any better off ?... Was it certain, moreover, that there was not more civilisation there than in Europe? ... Africa was certain to be crossed sometime or other, and in a less risky manner ... In a month, six months, before the year was out, some explorer would undoubtedly succeed. These insinuations produced the contrary effect to what was intended, and the doctor quivered with irritation.

'Is this what you call friendship, you traitor? Do you want someone else to get all the glory? Am I to go back on my past? Am I to jib at paltry obstacles? Is this the way you want me to show my gratitude for what the British Government and the Royal Geographical Society have done for me?'

'But—' went on Kennedy, with whom this conjunction was a habit.

'But,' said the doctor, 'don't you realise that my expedition has to compete with others which are already on the way? Don't you know that fresh explorers are making their way towards the centre of Africa?'

'Yet—'

'Now just listen to me, Dick. Have a look at this map.'

Dick did so with an air of resignation.

'Now make your way up the Nile.'

'Very well,' the Scot replied obediently.

'Go as far as Gondokoro.'

'I've got there.'

And Kennedy realised how easy such a journey is—on the map.

'Take this pair of dividers,' the doctor continued, 'and place one point on that town which the boldest travellers have not been able to get past to any extent worth mentioning.'

'All right, here it is.'

'Now find the Island of Zanzibar, near the coast, lat. 6°S.'

'I've got it.'

'Now follow this parallel until you get to Kazeh.'

'Here we are.'

'Follow the 33rd meridian as far as the end of Lake Ukereue, where Lieutenant Speke came to a stop.'

'I'm there. A little farther and I'll be falling into the lake.'

'Well, do you know what the information given by the natives along the banks justifies us in supposing?'

'I haven't the vaguest idea.'

'That this lake, whose lowest extremity is in lat. 2°30′S., must also extend two degrees above the Equator.'

'Really!'

'Now from this northern extremity a water-course runs which cannot help but join the Nile, even if it is not the Nile itself.'

'That's odd.'

'Now place the other point of the dividers on this extremity of Lake Ukereue.'

'Done, my good Fergusson.'

'How many degrees are there between the two points?'

'Not quite two.'

'Do you know how far that is?'

'I don't in the least.'

'Less than one hundred and fifty miles. In fact, nothing at all.'

'Next to nothing, Samuel.'

'Now, do you know what is happening at this very moment?'

'No; I assure you I do not.'

'Well, this is what is happening. The Royal Geographical Society lays great importance on the exploration of this lake seen by Speke. Under its auspices Lieutenant, now Captain Speke, has been joined by Captain Grant of the Indian Army, and they have placed themselves at the head of a large and heavily subsidised expedition. Their object is to travel up the lake and return as far as Gondokoro. They've received a grant of over five thousand pounds and the Governor of the Cape has lent them native soldiers. They left Zanzibar at the end of October 1860. Meanwhile John Petherick, the British Consul at Khartum, has received from the Foreign Office about seven hundred pounds. He is to fit out a steamer at Khartum, go to Gondoroko, wait there for Speke's expedition and be ready to revictual it.'

'A good idea,' said Kennedy.

'So you see, there's no time to be lost if we intend to have a finger in these explorations. And that's not all. While these men are steadily advancing towards the sources of the Nile, other explorers are boldly pushing into the heart of Africa.'

'On foot?' Kennedy asked.

'On foot,' answered the doctor, disregarding the insinuation. 'Dr Krapf proposes to push west, following the Djob, a river below the Equator. Baron von Decken has identified Mount Kenia and Kilimandjaro, and is heading towards the centre.'

'On foot, too?'

'On foot, too, or else by mule.'

'It's exactly the same thing as far as I'm concerned,' Kennedy replied.

'Lastly,' the doctor went on, 'Herr von Heuglin, the Austrian ViceConsul at Khartum, has just organised a very important expedition whose first objective is to search for Vogel, the explorer who was sent into the Sudan in 1853 to assist in Dr Barth's work. In 1856 he left Bornu and decided to explore the unknown country stretching between Lake Tchad and Darfur. He has never turned up again. Letters received at Alexandria in 1860 report that he was assassinated by order of the King of Wadai, but other letters sent by Dr Hartmann to the explorers also report that according to the story of a fellah of Bornu, Vogel appears to have been merely held prisoner at Wara, so that all hope is not yet lost. A committee has been formed under the presidency of the Duke Regent of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha. My friend Petermann is secretary, and a national subscription has been raised to defray the expenses of the expedition, to which many distinguished scientists have given their support. Herr von Heuglin left Massaua in June and, while looking for Vogel, he is at the same time to explore all the country between the Nile and Lake Tchad; that is to say, link up Captain Speke's operations with Dr Barth's. Africa will then have been crossed from East to West.'

'Well,' answered the Scot, 'as all this is working out so nicely, what do we want to go for?'

Dr Fergusson did not reply but merely shrugged his shoulders. oOe5atlEoXueFlFuQve8hzEvPfkn1zRIp4kdfUkRFOQ4RkkI/ywXCSJNvodIygpS