“But how long do you think my trip is going to last? Whole months? If so, you are greatly mistaken. Were it to be a long one, we should be lost; we should never get back. But you must know that the distance from Zanzibar to the coast of Senegal is only thirty-five hundred—say four thousand miles. Well, at the rate of two hundred and forty miles every twelve hours, which does not come near the rapidity of our railroad trains, by travelling day and night, it would take only seven days to cross Africa!”
“But then you could see nothing, make no geographical observations, or reconnoitre the face of the country.”
“Ah!” replied the doctor, “if I am master of my balloon—if I can ascend and descend at will, I shall stop when I please, especially when too violent currents of air threaten to carry me out of my way with them.”
“And you will encounter such,” said Captain Bennet. “There are tornadoes that sweep at the rate of more than two hundred and forty miles per hour.”
“You see, then, that with such speed as that, we could cross Africa in twelve hours. One would rise at Zanzibar, and go to bed at St. Louis!”
“But,” rejoined the officer, “could any balloon withstand the wear and tear of such velocity?”
“It has happened before,” replied Ferguson.
“And the balloon withstood it?”
“Perfectly well. It was at the time of the coronation of Napoleon, in 1804. The aëronaut, Gernerin, sent up a balloon at Paris, about eleven o’clock in the evening. It bore the following inscription, in letters of gold: ‘Paris, 25 Frimaire; year XIII; Coronation of the Emperor Napoleon by his Holiness, Pius VII.’ On the next morning, the inhabitants of Rome saw the same balloon soaring above the Vatican, whence it crossed the Campagna, and finally fluttered down into the lake of Bracciano. So you see, gentlemen, that a balloon can resist such velocities.”
“A balloon—that might be; but a man?” insinuated Kennedy.