"And how about igniting it? We have no more matches."
"The ropes we used in scaling the mountain will do instead. They are so dry that they will burn like tinder. We shall have to scatter a few grains of powder amongst the strands to revive their powers of combustion if they show any signs of languishing."
"You have an answer for every objection. Come along, and, as our minds are made up, let us to work."
"No, no! I will not undertake anything to-day. It is too late; darkness will soon set in, and, for this delicate operation, we need all the light we can get. Besides, I shall not be sorry to have a whole night for reflection—I might possibly find some better means—"
"There is no chance of that."
"Holloa!" said M. Desrioux, laughing. "Who is convinced now? I should be playing a sorry part if I were to try to stifle the conviction I myself have brought about. Nevertheless, I must remind you that there is such a thing as prudence; our powder is too precious to be cast to the winds, unless from absolute necessity. If indeed, after having got across this rock, we could rely upon entering a friendly country, I should be the first to say that we might hold our ammunition cheap. But this part of Africa, into which we are about to enter so noisily, and with such éclat, excuse the joke, is utterly unknown to us. Judging merely from the glimpse we had of the plain yesterday, we shall drop into the middle of numerous and warlike tribes. Allow me, therefore, to counsel patience until to-morrow."
"Until to-morrow be it, then!" said M. de Pommerelle, closing the conversation.
The doctor summoned a Beluch, who acted as interpreter, and ordered him to tell his comrades that the white men had discovered a way of getting across the obstacle lying between them and the plain. The soldiers broke out into shouts of joy, which became less exuberant, and finally degenerated into murmuring, when they learnt that nothing was to be done until the following day. But they soon came to their senses; they stood, at this juncture, far too much in need of the Europeans to complain about them.
On the morrow, at 5 a.m., M. Desrioux went to rouse M. de Pommerelle.
"Well?" said the Count, as soon as he had all his wits about him.
"What are we going to do? What have you discovered?"