A SKIRMISH IN DAHOMEY




At this point in the circumnavigatory voyage of the "Albatross" it is
only natural that some such questions as the following should be
asked. Who was this Robur, of whom up to the present we know nothing
but the name? Did he pass his life in the air? Did his aeronef never
rest? Had he not some retreat in some inaccessible spot in which, if
he had need of repose or revictualing, be could betake himself? It
would be very strange if it were not so. The most powerful flyers
have always an eyrie or nest somewhere.

And what was the engineer going to do with his prisoners? Was he
going to keep them in his power and condemn them to perpetual
aviation? Or was he going to take them on a trip over Africa, South
America, Australasia, the Indian Ocean, the Atlantic and the Pacific,
to convince them against their will, and then dismiss them with, "And
now gentlemen, I hope you will believe a little more in heavier than
air?"

To these questions, it is now impossible to reply. They are the
secrets of the future. Perhaps the answers will be revealed. Anyhow
the bird-like Robur was not seeking his nest on the northern frontier
of Africa. By the end of the day he had traversed Tunis from Cape Bon
to Cape Carthage, sometimes hovering, and sometimes darting along at
top speed. Soon he reached the interior, and flew down the beautiful
valley of Medjeida above its yellow stream hidden under its luxuriant