Five Weeks in a Balloon | Page 6

remain on record as one of the most daring
conceptions of human genius!" (Tremendous cheering.)
"Huzza! huzza!" shouted the immense audience, completely electrified
by these inspiring words.
"Huzza for the intrepid Ferguson!" cried one of the most excitable of
the enthusiastic crowd.
The wildest cheering resounded on all sides; the name of Ferguson was
in every mouth, and we may safely believe that it lost nothing in
passing through English throats. Indeed, the hall fairly shook with it.
And there were present, also, those fearless travellers and explorers
whose energetic temperaments had borne them through every quarter of
the globe, many of them grown old and worn out in the service of
science. All had, in some degree, physically or morally, undergone the
sorest trials. They had escaped shipwreck; conflagration; Indian
tomahawks and war-clubs; the fagot and the stake; nay, even the
cannibal maws of the South Sea Islanders. But still their hearts beat
high during Sir Francis M----'s address, which certainly was the finest
oratorical success that the Royal Geographical Society of London had
yet achieved.
But, in England, enthusiasm does not stop short with mere words. It
strikes off money faster than the dies of the Royal Mint itself. So a
subscription to encourage Dr. Ferguson was voted there and then, and it
at once attained the handsome amount of two thousand five hundred
pounds. The sum was made commensurate with the importance of the
enterprise.
A member of the Society then inquired of the president whether Dr.
Ferguson was not to be officially introduced.
"The doctor is at the disposition of the meeting," replied Sir Francis.
"Let him come in, then! Bring him in!" shouted the audience. "We'd
like to see a man of such extraordinary daring, face to face!"
"Perhaps this incredible proposition of his is only intended to mystify

us," growled an apoplectic old admiral.
"Suppose that there should turn out to be no such person as Dr.
Ferguson?" exclaimed another voice, with a malicious twang.
"Why, then, we'd have to invent one!" replied a facetious member of
this grave Society.
"Ask Dr. Ferguson to come in," was the quiet remark of Sir Francis
M----.
And come in the doctor did, and stood there, quite unmoved by the
thunders of applause that greeted his appearance.
He was a man of about forty years of age, of medium height and
physique. His sanguine temperament was disclosed in the deep color of
his cheeks. His countenance was coldly expressive, with regular
features, and a large nose--one of those noses that resemble the prow of
a ship, and stamp the faces of men predestined to accomplish great
discoveries. His eyes, which were gentle and intelligent, rather than
bold, lent a peculiar charm to his physiognomy. His arms were long,
and his feet were planted with that solidity which indicates a great
pedestrian.
A calm gravity seemed to surround the doctor's entire person, and no
one would dream that he could become the agent of any mystification,
however harmless.
Hence, the applause that greeted him at the outset continued until he,
with a friendly gesture, claimed silence on his own behalf. He stepped
toward the seat that had been prepared for him on his presentation, and
then, standing erect and motionless, he, with a determined glance,
pointed his right forefinger upward, and pronounced aloud the single
word--
"Excelsior!"
Never had one of Bright's or Cobden's sudden onslaughts, never had
one of Palmerston's abrupt demands for funds to plate the rocks of the
English coast with iron, made such a sensation. Sir Francis M----'s
address was completely overshadowed. The doctor had shown himself
moderate, sublime, and self-contained, in one; he had uttered the word
of the situation--
"Excelsior!"
The gouty old admiral who had been finding fault, was completely won
over by the singular man before him, and immediately moved the

insertion of Dr. Ferguson's speech in "The Proceedings of the Royal
Geographical Society of London."
Who, then, was this person, and what was the enterprise that he
proposed?
Ferguson's father, a brave and worthy captain in the English Navy, had
associated his son with him, from the young man's earliest years, in the
perils and adventures of his profession. The fine little fellow, who
seemed to have never known the meaning of fear, early revealed a keen
and active mind, an investigating intelligence, and a remarkable turn
for scientific study; moreover, he disclosed uncommon address in
extricating himself from difficulty; he was never perplexed, not even in
handling his fork for the first time--an exercise in which children
generally have so little success.
His fancy kindled early at the recitals he read of daring enterprise and
maritime adventure, and he followed with enthusiasm the discoveries
that signalized the first part of the nineteenth century. He mused over
the glory of the