-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Жюль Верн
-
- Пятнадцатилетний капитан
-
- Стр. 225/354
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
"
Will
we
set
out
again
?
"
then
said
Dick
Sand
,
in
order
to
cut
short
this
conversation
.
"
Yes
,
Dick
,
let
us
go
,
"
replied
Mrs.
Weldon
.
The
camp
was
broken
up
,
and
the
march
continued
again
in
the
same
order
.
It
was
necessary
to
pass
through
the
underwood
,
so
as
not
to
leave
the
course
of
the
rivulet
.
There
had
been
some
paths
there
,
formerly
,
but
those
paths
were
dead
,
according
to
the
native
expression
--
that
is
,
brambles
and
brushwood
had
usurped
them
.
In
these
painful
conditions
they
might
spend
three
hours
in
making
one
mile
.
The
blacks
worked
without
relaxation
.
Hercules
,
after
putting
little
Jack
back
in
Nan
's
arms
,
took
his
part
of
the
work
;
and
what
a
part
!
He
gave
stout
"
heaves
,
"
making
his
ax
turn
round
,
and
a
hole
was
made
before
them
,
as
if
he
had
been
a
devouring
fire
.
Fortunately
,
this
fatiguing
work
would
not
last
.
This
first
mile
cleared
,
they
saw
a
large
hole
,
opened
through
the
underwood
,
which
ended
obliquely
at
the
rivulet
and
followed
its
bank
.
It
was
a
passage
made
by
elephants
,
and
those
animals
,
doubtless
by
hundreds
,
were
in
the
habit
of
traversing
this
part
of
the
forest
.
Great
holes
,
made
by
the
feet
of
the
enormous
pachyderms
,
riddled
a
soil
softened
during
the
rainy
season
.
Its
spongy
nature
also
prepared
it
for
those
large
imprints
.
It
soon
appeared
that
this
passage
did
not
serve
for
those
gigantic
animals
alone
.
Human
beings
had
more
than
once
taken
this
route
,
but
as
flocks
,
brutally
led
to
the
slaughter-house
,
would
have
followed
it
.
Here
and
there
bones
of
dead
bodies
strewed
the
ground
;
remains
of
skeletons
,
half
gnawed
by
animals
,
some
of
which
still
bore
the
slave
's
fetters
.
There
are
,
in
Central
Africa
,
long
roads
thus
marked
out
by
human
débris
.
Hundreds
of
miles
are
traversed
by
caravans
,
and
how
many
unhappy
wretches
fall
by
the
way
,
under
the
agents
'
whips
,
killed
by
fatigue
or
privations
,
decimated
by
sickness
!
How
many
more
massacred
by
the
traders
themselves
,
when
food
fails
!
Yes
,
when
they
can
no
longer
feed
them
,
they
kill
them
with
the
gun
,
with
the
sword
,
with
the
knife
!
These
massacres
are
not
rare
.
So
,
then
,
caravans
of
slaves
had
followed
this
road
.
For
a
mile
Dick
Sand
and
his
companions
struck
against
these
scattered
bones
at
each
step
,
putting
to
flight
enormous
fern-owls
.
Those
owls
rose
at
their
approach
,
with
a
heavy
flight
,
and
turned
round
in
the
air
.
Mrs.
Weldon
looked
without
seeing
.
Dick
Sand
trembled
lest
she
should
question
him
,
for
he
hoped
to
lead
her
back
to
the
coast
without
telling
her
that
Harris
's
treachery
had
led
them
astray
in
an
African
province
.
Fortunately
,
Mrs.
Weldon
did
not
explain
to
herself
what
she
had
under
her
eyes
.
She
had
desired
to
take
her
child
again
,
and
little
Jack
,
asleep
,
absorbed
all
her
care
.
Nan
walked
near
her
,
and
neither
of
them
asked
the
young
novice
the
terrible
questions
he
dreaded
.
