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- Жюль Верн
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- Пятнадцатилетний капитан
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- Стр. 263/354
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No
trace
of
Mrs.
Weldon
,
nor
of
Mr.
Benedict
.
Where
would
they
take
them
,
if
not
to
Kazounde
?
They
must
have
followed
the
road
of
the
caravan
and
preceded
us
.
I
am
eaten
up
with
anxiety
.
Little
Jack
must
be
seized
again
with
the
fever
in
this
unhealthy
region
.
But
does
he
still
live
?
From
May
1st
to
May
6th
.
--
Crossed
,
with
several
halting-places
,
long
plains
,
which
evaporation
has
not
been
able
to
dry
up
.
Water
everywhere
up
to
the
waist
.
Myriads
of
leeches
adhering
to
the
skin
.
We
must
march
for
all
that
.
On
some
elevations
that
emerge
are
lotus
and
papyrus
.
At
the
bottom
,
under
the
water
,
other
plants
,
with
large
cabbage
leaves
,
on
which
the
feet
slip
,
which
occasions
numerous
falls
.
In
these
waters
,
considerable
quantities
of
little
fish
of
the
silurus
species
.
The
natives
catch
them
by
billions
in
wickers
and
sell
them
to
the
caravans
.
Impossible
to
find
a
place
to
camp
for
the
night
.
We
see
no
limit
to
the
inundated
plain
.
We
must
march
in
the
dark
.
To-morrow
many
slaves
will
be
missing
from
the
convoy
.
What
misery
!
When
one
falls
,
why
get
up
again
?
A
few
moments
more
under
these
waters
,
and
all
would
be
finished
.
The
overseer
's
stick
would
not
reach
you
in
the
darkness
.
Yes
,
but
Mrs.
Weldon
and
her
son
!
I
have
not
the
right
to
abandon
them
.
I
shall
resist
to
the
end
.
It
is
my
duty
.
Dreadful
cries
are
heard
in
the
night
.
Twenty
soldiers
have
torn
some
branches
from
resinous
trees
whose
branches
were
above
water
.
Livid
lights
in
the
darkness
.
This
is
the
cause
of
the
cries
I
heard
.
An
attack
of
crocodiles
;
twelve
or
fifteen
of
those
monsters
have
thrown
themselves
in
the
darkness
on
the
flank
of
the
caravan
.
Women
and
children
have
been
seized
and
carried
away
by
the
crocodiles
to
their
"
pasture
lands
"
--
so
Livingstone
calls
those
deep
holes
where
this
amphibious
animal
deposits
its
prey
,
after
having
drowned
it
,
for
it
only
eats
it
when
it
has
reached
a
certain
degree
of
decomposition
.
I
have
been
rudely
grazed
by
the
scales
of
one
of
these
crocodiles
.
An
adult
slave
has
been
seized
near
me
and
torn
from
the
fork
that
held
him
by
the
neck
.
The
fork
was
broken
.
What
a
cry
of
despair
!
What
a
howl
of
grief
!
I
hear
it
still
!
