“No,” shouted back the baronet; “I am going to try the experiment of seeing how she will bear the stroke of the gale. Hold on tight all of you!”
And as he spoke he sent the engines ahead at full speed, and drove the ship forward right in the teeth of the hurricane.
The next instant, with an appalling burst of sound, the gale was upon them. Contrary to their expectations, there was scarcely any perceptible shock, but the ship’s speed was rapidly checked much as is the speed of an express train when the brakes are suddenly and powerfully applied, and in some six seconds, though the engines were still going ahead at their utmost speed, the progress of the Flying Fish over the ground was as effectually checked as though she had been lying at anchor.
Meanwhile the air was one vast volume of awful sound, and thick with the clouds of dust, and tufts of grass, and leaves, and hurtling branches which were being whirled furiously along upon the wings of the tornado, so that the inmates of the pilot-house could neither hear each other speak nor see any object beyond a quarter of a mile away on either side. This lasted for perhaps three minutes, when the wind suddenly lulled, and the ship at once began to forge rapidly ahead. The lull lasted perhaps half a minute, and then ensued a repetition of all that had gone before, excepting that perhaps the wind was not quite so strong as at the first outburst. But it was of longer duration, the second instalment of the gale lasting fully half an hour, after which the wind gradually dropped to a gentle breeze, the sky cleared, the sun reappeared in all his wonted splendour, and the air resumed its usual transparency.
But what a sight was now presented to the view of the travellers; what a scene of devastation was that which lay outspread around them! The long grass was pressed so flat to the ground that it would scarcely have afforded cover to the smallest animal; stately trees were lying prostrate, either uprooted altogether, or their massive trunks snapped short off, whilst others still retained their upright position indeed, but stood denuded of every branch. Other trees again, whilst less mutilated as to their branches, retained only a few straggling leaves here and there, and the same thing applied to those dense patches of creeper-like tangled growth known as “bush,” the upper portions of which presented merely a bristling array of leafless twigs. And in some spots could be seen huge clumps of “bush” which had been torn bodily out of the ground and swept remorselessly along for perhaps miles of distance.
But the strangest sight of all was presented by the animals. From a height of one thousand feet, to which the Flying Fish had by this time risen, a very wide extent of the plateau below could be surveyed, and on this in every direction could be seen the wild creatures of the forest, the jungle, and the plain, many of them suffering from injuries more or less severe, received during the progress of the tornado, and all of them exhibiting unmistakable and in some instances surprising evidences of demoralisation and terror. Deer and antelopes of various species lay crouched upon the ground palpably quivering with fear, or limped painfully about on three legs, the fourth being doubtless injured through the creature having been hurled violently to the ground, or struck by some falling branch. The lion and his mate could be seen here and there wandering harmlessly and aimlessly to and fro in the midst of hundreds of creatures which on ordinary occasions would afford them a welcome prey, but which were now too completely overcome with terror to notice their presence. In one place a fine elephant lay prostrate, his massive spine apparently broken by the fall of an enormous tree, the trunk of which had pinned him to the ground; and in another, an immense assemblage of animals of the most mixed and antagonistic species were seen huddled promiscuously together under the lee of an immense belt of bush, where they seemed to have found a shelter from which they were evidently still afraid to venture.
At length, having seen enough to afford them a tolerably clear idea of the destruction wrought by the storm, the professor suggested the retracing of their steps with the object of again finding, if possible, the troop of unicorns. The ship was accordingly put about, and in a short time the spot was reached on which still lay the carcasses of the leopard and the female unicorn. Here she was again brought temporarily to the ground in order that the party might secure the two skins, which was done; but the hide of the unicorn was so dreadfully lacerated by the claws of the leopard that the professor was plunged into the lowest depths of chagrin and despondency. The pursuit of the lost animals was now once more taken up; the ship rising to a height of five thousand feet into the air and then going ahead dead slow in the direction taken by the unicorns, the four gentlemen, armed with their most powerful telescopes, posting themselves in advantageous positions on deck and minutely examining every yard of the ground over which they passed. This method of proceeding was continued until nightfall without result; and it then became evident that the animals of which they were in pursuit had somehow eluded them.
“Well,” said the professor, endeavouring to put a good face upon his disappointment, as, the ship having been carefully brought to earth and securely moored for the night, the party left the pilot-house and went below to take their evening bath previous to dinner, “it is disappointing, but it cannot be helped. Perhaps we shall be fortunate enough to encounter them or others to-morrow as we wend our way southward. And, à propos of our next destination, I have a suggestion which I should like to make, and which I will lay before you when we meet at the dinner-table.”
Accordingly, when they had fairly settled down to the meal that evening, Sir Reginald called upon the scientist for his suggestion or proposal.
“I must preface it,” said von Schalckenberg, “by informing you that I have again been diving into my lamented friend’s note-book, which I may say en passant is the most remarkable volume I have ever come across. And in it I find, under the heading of ‘Africa,’ a most clever and scholarly disquisition on ‘the site of ancient Ophir,’ the place from which it is recorded that David obtained gold for the building of Solomon’s temple. I need not inflict upon you the various arguments and authorities which are cited in the endeavour to identity the position of this most interesting spot; suffice it to say, that I am morally convinced I can lay my finger upon it on the map. The principal, indeed I may say the only reasons why the region has never yet been explored are, first, its extreme difficulty of access except by sea; and secondly, the fact that all recorded attempts to penetrate it have been thwarted by the inhabitants, who are a most jealous, warlike, and savage race of people. We, however, are fortunately possessed of exceptional, or I should rather say unique, means of approach to this unknown country; and my suggestion is that we should—”