# Works of Jules Verne/Five Weeks in a Balloon/Chapter 25

CHAPTER XXV THE UNEXPECTED BALLOON
The next day there was the same clear sky and the same calm. The "Victoria" floated at about 100 feet high, but the little drift towards the west was scarcely perceptible.
"We are in the midst of the desert," said the doctor. "Look at the expanse of sand—what a strange sight—what a singular arrangement of nature! Why should there be such luxuriant vegetation farther back, and this extreme barrenness here, and this in the same latitude, under the same rays of the sun?"
​"The reason, my dear Samuel, does not disquiet me," replied Kennedy; "the 'why' preoccupies me less than the fact. It is thus, and that's the great point after all."
"It is a good thing to be something of a philosopher, my dear Dick—that can do no harm at any rate."
"Let us philosophize; I wish to do so very much. We have plenty of time—we are scarcely moving."
"The wind is afraid to blow; it is asleep."
"This cannot last," said Joe. "I fancy I see some streaks of cloud in the east."
"Joe is right," said the doctor.
"Good!" cried Kennedy. "I wonder whether we shall reach that cloud, with the beautiful rain and the strong wind it can give us."
"We shall soon see, Dick."
"This is Friday, sir; and I do not like Fridays."
"Well, I hope that even to-day you will lose your distrust for them."
"I hope so, sir. Ouf!" he cried, wiping his face. "Heat is an excellent thing, particularly in winter, but in summer it need not take such a mean advantage of us."
"Are you not afraid of the effects of the sun upon your balloon?" asked Kennedy of the doctor.
"No, the gutta-percha with which the silk is coated is able to endure a much higher temperature. I have sometimes submitted it inside to a heat of 158 degrees, and the 'envelope' does not appear to have suffered."
"A cloud, a real cloud!" cried Joe at this juncture, whose sharp eyes beat all glasses.
In fact, a thick and solid band was distinctly rising slowly above the horizon; it appeared large and bloated. It was a pile of small clouds which always kept their original shapes, from which the doctor concluded that no current of air existed in their masses.
This compact heap had appeared about eight o'clock in the morning; at eleven it had reached the sun, which disappeared entirely behind this thick curtain. At this very moment the lower end of the cloud rose above the horizon, which appeared clear and bright.
"It is only a single cloud, and we must not count upon it. Look, Dick, its form is exactly the same as it was this morning."
​"So, Samuel, there is neither rain nor wind for us, at least."
"I fear not, it keeps up very high."
"Well, Samuel, so we are going to hunt this cloud, which will not break over us?"
"I do not think that would do much good," replied the doctor; "that would expend a quantity of gas and water. But in a position such as ours, it will not do to neglect anything; we will go up higher."
The doctor developed a tremendous heat from the blow-pipe, and the balloon soon rose under the influence of the expanded hydrogen.
About 1,500 feet from the ground, they encountered a thick mass of cloud, and entered into a thick mist pervading at this height, but they did not find the least breath of wind. The fog even appeared to be deprived of moisture, and objects exposed to contact with it were scarcely wetted. The "Victoria," enveloped in this vapor, perhaps proceeded a little faster there, but that was all.
The doctor was with sadness considering the very meager result obtained from his maneuver, when he heard Joe cry out in surprised accents:
"Oh! look here!"
"What is it, Joe?"
"Oh, sir! oh, Mr. Kennedy! is not that extraordinary!"
"What have you there?"
"We are not alone here! There are intruders; they have stolen our invention from us."
"Has he gone mad?" asked Kennedy.
Joe stood as immovable as a statue.
"I think the lad is suffering from sunstroke," said the doctor, turning towards him.
"What do you say?" said he.
"Look there, sir," said Joe, indicating a certain direction.
"By St. Patrick!" cried Kennedy, in his turn, "that is scarcely creditable. Samuel, Samuel, look here!"
"I see," replied the doctor quietly; "another balloon, with other travelers like ourselves."
In fact, 200 paces distant, a balloon was floating in the air, with car and travelers complete. It was following exactly the same route as the "Victoria."
​"Well," said the doctor, "it only remains for us to make them a signal. Take the flag, Kennedy, and show them our colors."
It seemed that the travelers in the other balloon had conceived the same idea at the same time, for a similar flag repeated the identical signal in a hand which held it in the same position.
"What is the meaning of that?" asked the Scot.
"They are monkeys," said Joe, "and they are imiating us."
"It means," replied Ferguson, laughing, "that it is yourself who is making the signal to you, my dear Dick; that is to say, that we ourselves are in the other car, and that that balloon is really our own 'Victoria.'"
"Well, sir, with all due respect to you," said Joe, "you will never make me believe that."
"Get up on the edge of the car, Joe, and wave your arms; then then you will see if I am right."
Joe obeyed, and his gestures were exactly and instantaneously repeated.
"It is only the effect of mirage," said the doctor, "nothing more a simple optical delusion—and is due to the unequal rarefaction of the air-strata—that's all."
"It is most extraordinary," said Joe, who could not take it all in, and kept waving his arms about to convince himself on the subject.
"A curious sight, indeed!" said Kennedy. "It is pleasant too to see our brave 'Victoria.' Do you know she has quite a grand appearance, and floats in a right royal manner."
"You have explained this appearance very well in your own way," said Joe, "but it is a singular effect all the same."
But the "double" of the "Victoria" gradually disappeared, the clouds ascended to a great height above the balloon, which did not attempt to follow them, and in about an hour they disappeared.
The wind, even hitherto scarcely perceptible, appeared to drop altogether. The doctor, in despair, descended towards the ground.
The travelers, who had been aroused from their preoccupation by the appearance of the mirage, again yielded ​to their gloomy thoughts, overcome by the tremendous heat.
Towards four o'clock Joe signaled some objects standing in relief against the sandy background, and soon he was able to announce that two palm-trees were visible at a short distance.
"Palms!" cried Ferguson; "then there is a fountain or a well there." He took up a telescope to assure himself that Joe had not made a mistake.
"At last!" he cried. "Water, water! we are saved; for although we are going very slowly, we are moving, and we must get there."
"Well, sir," said Joe, "suppose we have a drink in the meantime—the heat is stifling."
"By all means, my lad."
No one had any objections, and a pint of water was distributed. The store was now reduced to three and a half pints.
"Ah! that does one good," cried Joe. "Better than all Barclay and Perkins's brewings."
"Such are the advantages of privation," said the doctor.
"They are small, taking them altogether," said Kennedy; "and though I should never be allowed again to experience the pleasure of drinking a glass of water, I would consent to lose the pleasure as the condition of never being deprived of the substance."
At six o'clock the "Victoria" was floating about the palms. They were two miserably small, dried-up trees—two specters of trees, without foliage—more dead than alive. Ferguson contemplated them with fear in his heart.
At their base the broken stones of a well were discernible, but these stones, baked by the sun, seemed little more than dust. There was not the faintest trace of water. Ferguson's heart sank within him, and he was beginning to share the terrors of his companions, when their exclamations attracted his attention.
Stretching out of sight to the westward was extended a long line of whitened bones. Fragments of skeletons surrounded the fountain; evidently a caravan had reached thus far, marking its passage by a trail of bones! The weakest had fallen, one after the other, upon the distant sand; the stronger ones had struggled on to the desired ​fountain, and on its brink had found a horrible death. The travelers gazed with whitened faces at these dreadful signs.
"Do not descend," said Kennedy; "let us fly this horrible sight. There is not a drop of water to be obtained."
"Not so, Dick. Let us do our best about this. We may as well pass the night here as anywhere else. We will sound these wells—a spring has existed here-perhaps there are traces of it still."
The "Victoria" was brought to the ground. Joe and Kennedy threw into the car a weight of sand equivalent to their own, and they got out. They ran towards the wells, and penetrated into the interior by means of a stairway, already crumbling to dust. The spring appeared to have been dried up for years. They dug into the dry and powdered sand—that most arid of all sands—but there was not even a trace of dampness.
The doctor saw them returning, perspiring, disheveled, and covered with fine dust; they were defeated, discouraged, and desperate. He perceived the failure of their search. He had expected such a result, and said nothing. He felt that from this day forward he must have courage and energy for all three.
Joe had brought up the remains of an old dried leather bottle, which he threw angrily amongst the bones scattered around him. During supper, not a word was spoken by the travelers; they ate without appetite. And yet they had not hitherto really suffered the torments of thirst, and they only despaired for the future.
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