Five Weeks in a Balloon Page #2

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but what's to do?

- We must plant our flag first.

- It cannot be done.

Start readying a British expedition...

and those slavers will be

running for the Volta River...

before you can hoist

your britches over your knees.

That's why you must plant it.

- Me? How?

- Fool them.

Fly directly from Zanzibar

to the Volta River.

Aye.

A little mild exploring- say, a 200-mile

flight over East Africa- is one thing...

but to fly 4,000 miles

over unexplored jungle?

That's another.

It could be suicidal.

Her Majesty realizes that.

She even wagered me a sovereign

that you would not take the risk.

Well, Her Majesty's just

lost herself a sovereign.

If my life's to be sacrificed,

I cannot think of a better cause.

I knew we could count on you.

What about this young American

reporter that I've agreed to take along?

- This Donald O'Shay?

- Take him. The perfect witness.

- I do not follow.

- In case of a legal dispute...

the eyewitness report of an American

would be conclusive evidence of our claim.

Aye.

And they tell me that he's a pleasant,

inoffensive young lad, this Donald O'Shay.

Yah! Yah!

You fat pig!

Here come the marines!

Let's go!

Ow! My foot!

Marines catch us! Run!

Me Makia.

Thank you.

Me Donald.

You're welcome.

I hope. Come on!

Whoops! So long.

- Hurry!

- I think we lost 'em.

- Mr. O'Shay?

- Who are you?

Jacques, the professor's

assistant. Who's she?

Slave girl. She didn't like the fat boy

who was trying to buy her.

- Oh, him fat pig!

- You rescued a slave?

Well, they'll cut you to pieces,

and kill the rest of us too!

Yuck, I can't stand the sight

of blood, especially my own.

Whoops! Here they come! Come on! Let's go!

Shh.

- Where's Fergusson?

- At the British consulate. Come on!

Ah, bad news, sir.

Bad news.

- How bad?

- A letter from the prime minister by special courier.

- What does he say?

- The slavers know of your plan to beat them to the Volta.

No!

They left their base a week ago.

How long will it take them

to reach the river?

- I'd say six weeks.

- That leaves me exactly five.

- It's impossible to beat them.

- Nonsense, sir. Nothing's impossible.

There's, uh, something else.

Well, I've had enough surprises

for one day. Let me hear the worst.

You are to be accompanied

by the queen's special envoy.

"The professor, I'm sure, will benefit

by the invaluable experiences...

and advice of the ex-commandant

of Khartoum. "

- Sir Henry Vining?

- General Vining, sir.

Formally known as

the scourge of the desert.

Am I to be saddled with you,

sir, all the way across Africa?

I am equally distressed, sir.

However, a soldier

does not question his orders.

You said that my balloon was a toy!

Well, perhaps the prime minister shares my

views and wants a steadier hand at the helm.

- I'm in command.

- I am the expert on Africa.

- I'm the expert on balloons.

- Ha!

- Gentlemen, every hour counts.

- Every minute, sir.

Where in tarnation is that reporter?

Wasn't he on your ship?

There was an irksome chap aboard.

We had nothing in common.

But you'll have one thing in common:

five weeks in a balloon.

Should be very cozy.

What's happening now?

Hurry! Run! Run!

They're right behind us!

Professor, that's the irksome young man.

Professor! Professor!

It's Mr. O'Shay, Professor.

Well, gentlemen.

Mr. O'Shay, what jiggery-pokery is this?

And who is the chicken thief?

Name is Makia. Pretty, isn't she?

- The slave traders whipped her, but he saved her.

- He what?

You can't do this kind

of thing in Zanzibar!

It's against the law.

She must be returned immediately.

And the chicken too.

Oh, no, you don't.

You should've seen that bull whip.

- Be quiet, sir!

- Return this girl to her owner.

- And the chicken.

- Over my dead body.

That could be arranged, young man.

- Listen, you-

- Hold your tongue, sir!

- Didn't you cause enough trouble on the ship?

- Help me!

Tried to kiss Lord Jolliphant's daughter

without an introduction.

Let me go! I'll kill you!

Fat pig!

Yeah, that'll cool him off.

Oh, hey, she never learned

that in a finishing school.

- Mr. Townsend!

- What?

- Mr. Townsend, sir!

- What is it?

The marketplace is in an uproar.

Your man helped the American

to free that slave girl.

They know he's with you,

and they're going to destroy your balloon.

And they told me you were

an inoffensive young man.

Thank you very much, sir,

for all you've done.

- My carriage is below. Take it.

- Thank you, sir.

Everybody on the double.

Hyah! Hyah! Hyah!

Hurry up!

Get the stuff loaded!

- Is it safe?

- Of course not.

- After you, General.

- Thank you.

They'll be here in a minute.

Jacques! Jacques?

Get her up.

Heat's low, Professor,

and all that baggage.

Baggage? Thunderation!

Where did all this trash come from?

- Over with them, General.

- Boy, over.

Over. Over.

Not that one. That's mine.

What do you think you're doing?

Put that down!

That's mine!

It is indeed.

Over with it.

Now, wait a minute, Professor.

Now, you just hold that.

That's my new Parisian clothes.

How dare you, sir?

Why, that's the most preposterous-

Take your hands off that hat.

You! You there!

Give me back that coat!

Why-

Fergusson, those two men

leading the mob-

They were on my ship.

They must be agents of the slavers.

- Are you sure?

- Indubitably.

They must've whipped up the mob

because of your change in plans.

- What change in plans?

- Take it up, Jacques.

- What change in plans?

- May as well tell him, Professor.

Why not? We're going

to West Africa, Mr. O'Shay.

West Africa?

You're crazy!

Knowing Sir Henry's

views on my toy...

I'm quite sure he agrees with you.

I couldn't care less, but I do want to

know why the sudden change in plans.

- We are going to plant the flag, sir.

- The what?

The flag, if you'd start listening

and stop jabbering, man.

Will you get down!

And let these wallahs

see me grovel? Ha! Unthinkable.

- What flag, General?

- The Union Jack, sir.

If this idiot contraption

can stay aloft...

Britain will keep the heart of West Africa

out of the hands of the slavers.

Who cares? Why should the Randolph

press get involved in British politics?

Besides, I'm due to winter

on the Riviera.

You see what these

colonials have come to?

Since we gave them their freedom,

they don't know right from wrong.

Gave us our freedom? Hmm.

Good shot, sir.

There's the small question

of illicit slave trading, you know.

If we fail, heaven help the natives.

Fine. But I'm a reporter, not a reformer.

I demand we return

to Zanzibar right now.

Out of the question.

Then I withdraw

our financial support.

That's a pity. How do we pay

our hotel bills in the jungle?

We are quite safe now...

and we've a bunch

of planning to be up to.

Four thousand miles of it.

Will you join me

in the chart room, General?

- We've failed.

- Not yet.

Hey, you, Jacky boy,

you're my last hope.

I appeal to you as a fellow American.

- But I'm Canadian.

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