Captain Nemo_ The Fantastic History of a Dark Genius - Kevin J Anderson [102]
Fergusson studied his map, comparing it with what he saw while Nemo took another set of positional measurements. The explorer’s heavy eyebrows shot upward, and he grinned so broadly that his bushy mustache looked as if it might fall off. “That is Lake Tchad! We’ve gone farther than I anticipated.”
“We’ve also gone farther north than we should have,” Caroline said.
But Fergusson would not be disappointed. He had already filled two journal volumes describing the landscape and recording the zoological specimens he shot. He’d also kept a careful log of how the wildlife varied with the terrain. Watching his diligence, Nemo recalled how Captain Grant had studied the various fishes and sea creatures they encountered on their ill-fated journey, also keeping detailed scientific records . . . now lost to the world.
Fergusson fiddled with the recondenser controls to drop the balloon far enough to study the marshes and shoreline of enormous Lake Tchad. Nemo quickly intervened and operated the device himself. He knew they had to conserve their hydrogen gas to keep the balloon aloft for the remainder of the journey across the widest part of the continent.
They drifted low over swamps with reeds growing out of the water like porcupine quills. Natives in long canoes paddled about the shallows, casting fish nets. Crocodile silhouettes slithered along, while storks and flamingoes waded in the mud, probing for shellfish with their beaks.
Caroline pointed out a group of large dark forms perched on gnarled mangroves bent over the lake marshes. “Are those birds? They are larger than any vultures I have heard of.”
Fergusson snatched the spyglass out of Nemo’s hand. “Not just vultures, Madame -- condors. Rare and magnificent birds, perhaps the largest in the world. We simply must have a specimen, eh?”
He retrieved his sporting rifle and fired a shot at the clustered birds. One of the enormous condors dropped into the marsh with a splash of water and black feathers. The thunderous rifle blast startled the remaining birds, and they took wing with raucous, horrible cries. Each monstrous bird had a wingspan of fifteen feet, as big as the glider-kite Nemo had built on his island.
Three crocodiles moved in to feast on the feathered carcass floating in the swamp. The other giant birds moved together like sharks of the air. Their naked heads were covered with skin that looked like sunburned flesh around black eyes, and a horny plate rose rudderlike from each horned beak. The condors headed toward the Victoria, as if they saw it as prey.
“Now they are coming for us, Doctor,” Caroline said, frowning at the explorer. “Why must you shoot everything?”
Fergusson blinked his hazel eyes at her, as if he’d never considered there might be another way to document scientific discoveries. “Don’t worry, Madame. Condors are carrion birds. They’ll have no interest in us.”
Then the gigantic creatures fell upon them.
“Give me the other rifle, Doctor!” Nemo said. “We’ll both have to shoot now.”
His first shot nicked the closest bird, severing a clump of feathers from its outstretched wing. Fergusson, with better aim and greater practice, felled another creature.
Caroline searched in the basket and came up with a boat hook they used to snag branches. She jabbed at one of the condors and struck its outstretched claws. The carrion bird flew away, only to circle around and come back.
The other condors rose higher to attack the Victoria from above. With razor talons they slashed at the balloon, ripping huge wounds in the colorful silk outer skin. The balloon began to leak gas, and dropped toward the swamp.
Nemo’s second gunshot hit one of the condors. Then he turned desperately to the controls of the recondenser cylinder. He had to withdraw the hydrogen into the