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The Tale of the Muscular Manservant


CardiMuscleman

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Chapter Fifty Four

Aouda then opened a clasp on her necklace and some powder fell into the liquid. She gave it a mix and smiled saying “Powered chicken bone, the missing ingredient” and with that ladled some into a bowl and gave it to the stricken princess. This process was repeated all through the night and despite his best will, Jean was unable to stay awake, but as the dawn started to rise he was woken by a gentle sound.

“Jean, Jean, I believe it’s worked”

As Jean opened his eyes, he saw Aouda in front of him and as she moved out of the way, his heart leapt as he saw the Princess open her eyes for the first time and whisper “Where is my love?”

Monti immediately ran forward and tenderly held the Princess’s hands saying “I am here, my sweetheart”

As she sat up, Jean exclaimed with delight and in doing so alerted the King who came in with the rest of the party and as he saw his daughter out of bed, his scowl lessened and turned into a grin but it soon was replaced when he noticed she was holding the hands of Monti.

“You are banished from these lands” he bellowed, “banished until the day you die!”

“Please, father” whimpered the princess, hiding behind Monti, “don’t make me choose between the two men I love! Banish him and you banish me as well!”

As the King growled, Jean was all for decking the King, but was stopped by Aouda.

“With your permission, Majesty” said Aouda, with Phileas translating, “I wish to offer some advice. Your daughter has been quite ill for some time. I believe that her relationship with Monti is part of the reason she is now showing some signs of recovery, if you were to banish him, it is more than possible that she could suffer a relapse!” and with that she stood her ground and as the two members of different Royal Families stared each other down, Jean started to think. It was clear that Aouda loved Phileas, just as much as Monti loved the Princess, and that Jean was like the King. He should not prevent his master falling in love with Aouda, even if it meant never getting to enjoy his master’s strength and stamina ever again.

“Let them marry” said Aouda, after several moments, “it would ensure that your daughter would remain well enough whilst supplies from the mainland arrived here to enable your daughter to be fully recovered!”

“Well” said the king, “I suppose us Majesties are entitled to make one or two mistakes from time to time” and with that revoked the sentence of banishment on Monti. As the happy couple hugged, Jean walked to his master and whispered “Take her, monsieur, with my blessing” and as Phileas looked at Jean in surprise, he just winked.

“Mr. Fogg” said the king, “please accept my apologies for having received you in such an ungentlemanly manner! From now on, you are all heroes to my people!”

Phileas just smiled and said, in Hawaiian, “Ah, good morning, Your Majesty, may I have a word please?”

As the sun climbed high in the mid-morning sky, the party were treated to a traditional Hawaiian luau, which Monti explained was a celebration of heroes. There was traditional music played on a log, drums made out of animal skins, and traditional dancing with the ladies wearing grass skirts and clothes covering their breasts made out of the same skin as the drums with flowers in their hair. Phileas and Aouda were presented with a traditional meal of pineapples, bananas, melons, apricots and coconut milk served in their own shells.

Jean, however had left his meal as he was far more impressed by the men who were dancing and as he tried to understand their dance gestured if he could join in. They agreed and soon there was a muscular European, swaying along with the other muscular Hawaiians, although on a number of occasions he had to rescue his grass skirt lest his hardening cock be exposed from below his loincloth, not to mention when he tripped over as he failed to grasp a dance move correctly, but as he was helped to his feet, everyone couldn’t help but laugh. As they did Phileas and Aouda looked deep into each other’s eyes and Jean’s suspicions were confirmed as the two shared a tender kiss. They were like birds of a feather, both highly educated, both English and both from high ranking families. So what if it meant that he would never experience those muscles of his master, so long as he was happy, that was all that mattered and besides it meant he could have the world to choose from as demonstrated when he flexed his bicep in front of the man he was dancing next to and when it was responded to with a bicep at least two inches bigger, Jean moaned under his breath and started to daydream about the monster he was dancing next to, lifting him over his head and then squatting him without stopping under a hot, unrelenting sun which prompted Jean to moan with desire.

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Chapter Fifty Five

“I do declare” smiled Phileas, “that this is my second Captain’s table on my trip!”

As the party chuckled at Phileas’s observation, the Captain smiled from ear to ear. When he had heard about Phileas’s plans to cross the Pacific he knew that there was a strong chance that the Grant would ferry the Englishman across from Japan to America, but considering the manner in which Mr. Fogg boarded his ship, he began to think of Phileas as more than a passenger but perhaps a friend as well. As the meal continued, the Captain observed that they would arrive in San Francisco on the morning of December 1st, a good forty-eight hours of Mr. Fogg’s planned schedule, the Englishman raised a toast to him and he replied, rather bashfully, “It’s been a pleasure to help you any way I can!” at which point the party all chinked glasses and the Captain admitted that unlike a typhoon or a hurricane, he couldn’t really handle his drinks, but was willing to make an exception on this occasion.

It was a good thing that the Inspector and Constable did not hear this statement, lest they arrest him for being drunk in charge of a ship, as they were both fast asleep on a bench on the deck. The tropical weather they had been encountering since Hawaii didn’t suit them and so, every evening as soon as the sun went down, they went on deck and slept on the deck to take advantage of the cooler nights. Even now, they were both fast asleep, dreaming of their own beds.

“Maude” moaned the Inspector, dreaming of his wife, “be a dear and put an extra piece of wood on the fire would you, my feet are starting to get cold!”

In his dream, Maude smiled, got out of bed and placed a small lump of wood into the stove and as the warmth filled the room, the Inspector wiggled his toes and moaned contentedly. However, the warmth started to get a bit too much for the Inspector and so he whispered “Excuse me, my dear, I’ll just open the window a bit” and with that started to wake up. However, as he did, he gasped in horror at the sight in front of him. One of the masts was on fire.

“Wake up, Drummond” he bellowed, but his companion was still in the land of nod and it was only a well-aimed kick that woke the constable up who complained “Sir, I was having a lovely dream. I was back home in Bow, sitting in my favourite chair, reading a copy of the London Illustrated and wiggling my feet in front of a lovely, roaring fire!”

“Open your eyes, man!” roared the Inspector, “and see your lovely fire!” and pointed to the mast

“The ship’s on fire, sir!” came the reply which caused the Inspector to groan

“That’s why we have to raise the alarm!” came the reply and with that both men charged down to the galley, burst through the dining room doors and landed flat on their faces much to the chagrin of the Captain who demanded an explanation.

“Sound the alarm, sir” gasped the inspector, not used to the turn of speed he had just demonstrated, “the ship is on fire!”

“WHAT?” exclaimed the Captain and with that rushed onto the deck where he gasped at what he could see. All three masts were well alight as were a large number of sails. Ordering action stations, he drilled the crew in an effort to save the ship. As Phileas and Jean examined the scene, a plan started to form in the Englishman’s mind and turning to his manservant he said “Care to demonstrate your circus skills?” and winked at the Frenchman who understood exactly what his master was thinking. As the crew brought aboard bucket after bucket from the sea, Jean climbed the rigging to the crow’s nest and with that threw down a rope that he had carried up with him.

Phileas ordered one of the sailors to tie a bucket to the rope and when it was, Jean pulled the bucket up to where he was, an arduous task for any man, but for Jean it was a great way to get some exercise in. Once he had the bucket, he threw the end back down to the deck and started to spin the bucket around very fast, then on the word of command from his master, he threw the bucket with every ounce of strength he had and it flew the twenty yards to the mast in front of him where it exploded showering the mast with water and reducing the flames.

“Say, Mr. Fogg” smiled the Captain, “that manservant of yours has quite the arm, ever considered teaching him baseball?”

But Mr. Fogg’s attention was drawn to the mast behind Jean and with a loud “Now the one behind you” and as Jean threw another bucket at the mast behind him, the Captain got the idea and ordered the strongest and bravest members of his crew to the top of the masts. Within moments, a chain of buckets was being thrown at all the masts and although it took most of the night, with Aouda tending those hurt in the process, by the time the sun rose on December 1st, day sixty of the journey, the Grant had been saved but as the Captain and Phileas examined the damage, the Captain shook his head in sorrow and in his quarters delivered news that had the potential to rob Phileas of his advantage

“There’s no easy way of putting this, Phileas” he said, “but San Francisco is simply out of the question. We’re in a strong easterly current so we’re more than likely to wind up in Mexico” and as he got up to examine his charts and concluded “Yes, the only port we can possibly make for with that current is Ensenada! We should get there by the second, if we’re lucky!”

Phileas folded his arms and thought. Every time he was ahead of schedule, something happened to throw him off, but he had battled through those and he was going to battle through this. And so, on the afternoon of December 2nd, the Grant was towed into the harbour of Ensenada, a city like most of their journey Phileas knew the history of like a native. Indeed, as the pilot boarded the Grant to take it into the harbour, Phileas relayed the town’s history to him and been thanked for showing such an interest in what was, a very small town by Mexican standards but the news received by the Captain was the worst possible news imaginable, the Grant would not be able to sail for another week.

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Chapter Fifty Six

“Monsieur?” asked Jean, as the party landed in the town via the Grant’s jolly boat, “how do we complete our journey now?”

“I don’t know” replied Fogg, candidly

“But when the ship is repaired, we can make up the time then?” asked Aouda but Phileas shook his head sadly

“I…I don’t know how to say this” he replied, “but…I’ve lost!” and with that he wandered from the small harbour towards the town. Sensing that his master needed him, Jean followed him telling Aouda to stay with the jolly boat, but she refused and so the two companions followed Phileas into the heart of the town, which was as quiet as the rest of the town. Indeed, outside a restaurant was a Mexican playing the guitar with his sombrero covering his head seemingly with nothing better to do with his time, but when Phileas asked if he could order something from the restaurant, the sombrero wearer jumped up and said “Si, Senor, I cook for you” and opened the restaurant for the party. As he cooked something in the kitchen, Phileas unfolded a map he had taken from the Grant’s map room and laid it out on the table.

“San Francisco is about four hundred and seventy miles due north of here” he announced which caused his companions to sigh. As they did, a horse drawn cart trotted outside the restaurant and Jean suddenly had an idea and ventured to suggest that they hire a horse and wagon to take them there, a journey of around sixty-three hours allowing for sleeps, but that idea was rejected on account that they would arrive after the weekly train service to New York had left. As the owner served tacos and chili to the visitors, Jean leapt at the chance and started to shovel the chili into his mouth as if there were no tomorrow comparing it to Bolognese sauce despite the owner’s warnings.

Suddenly, his eyes opened wide and he grabbed his throat and gasped “Water, Water!” and a clear liquid was poured into his glass which he downed at once. No sooner had he done so, than he grabbed his throat again and started to breath hard much to Aouda’s concern. As Jean recovered from the dual assault, Phileas chuckled with a smile saying “That’s not water you drank, it’s tequila. Did you know it has one of the highest alcoholic contents in the world?” and with that he took a box of matches from his pocket and lit the contents of the glass in front of him. As Jean and Aouda watched the flames dance around the glass, Phileas smiled. This was his annual party trick at the Reform Club Christmas performance where he would display his knowledge of the world to the other members and was pleased to see that the trick was garnering a new audience.

As Jean started to recover from the assault on his senses, by going outside and breathing in some fresh air, he mused on some birds on the ground pecking away at some grain and wistfully asked “What a shame that we cannot fly to San Francisco, monsieur?”

As he spoke, a large collection of children suddenly ran past, in great fervor and Jean asked what had generated all this attention. A small child stopped and said “Senor, a bird is falling from the sky!” and with that ran off. This piqued his curiosity and after telling his master and Aouda, their curiosity was piqued as well and so following the mass of people, now joined by the elder members of the town they came to a small hill just outside the town and could see what the matter was. A balloon, being blown out to sea, clearly without any method of control and whilst an argument ensured between the townsfolk about whether this was a bad omen or not, Phileas resolved to help the pilot as best he could.

The pilot was aware of his plight and as the balloon came close to the ground he threw out a rope which wrapped itself around a cactus but the wind was too strong and as the cactus was uprooted, the pilot wailed in despair. He managed to avoid the town’s missionary, clipping the bell with his basket, collided with several rooves sending tiles crashing to the ground, and was seen heading towards the Grant. As the balloon came close to the Grant, the pilot threw everything out of the basket in a desperate attempt not to collide with the ship but the loose rope snagged around some of the rigging causing the balloon to flop over one of the masts and tipped the pilot out of the basket. It was sheer fortune that his feet got caught up in the loose rope that he didn’t fall to his death. By now, Phileas and Jean, the latter’s excellence at rowing having been proven yet again, were on deck and even though he had not had time to recover from the exertions, Jean knew what he had to do and a few moments later was gently clambering down the mast with the pilot gripped in fear to his muscular back.

Half an hour later, Aouda, who had been brought back on board by another member of the crew, was treating the pilot’s injured leg and as he thanked her, he revealed himself to Spanish and thanked Jean as well for his gallant act, a recommendation that made the Frenchman blush slightly, although that may have been due to the fact that not only was the Captain present in the room but so were Fix and Drummond. As he recovered from the excitement he apologised for his lack of manners and introduced himself as Manuel from Madrid. Jean knew the city well and as he remarked so, Manuel said “Then perhaps we shall meet there, my friend?” to which Jean nodded. The fact that he came from Spain, prompted Phileas to ask what he was doing in Mexico. He explained that he was heading to San Francisco in an attempt to set a new speed record for crossing the Atlantic Ocean, but sadly he’d been blown off course. However, the original destination caused Phileas to muse for a moment.

“Do you mean that you could get to San Francisco, in a balloon?” he asked

“But of course, Senor” replied Manuel, “with a good wind” and then bowed his head as he added, “Sadly, all my winds were not good, that meant that I ran out of fuel and so, my journey, she is ended!”

Phileas reassured Manuel that all was not lost and then asked him a question that took Manuel slightly by surprise.

“You want to buy my balloon, Senor?”

“Yes, I do” Phileas replied

“But, it is broken, damaged, it cannot be flown!”

“Oh” said Phileas, a smile forming on his face, “never say cannot to an Englishman!”

“But you need the right kind of cloth” explained Manuel, “then there is the fuel!”

“Er, sir” said the Captain, “would the cloth that we use for the sails be a suitable replacement for the cloth you used in the balloon?”

“I believe so” replied Manuel, “but…”

“Then, I formally propose, we repair your balloon sir” said the Captain, “and I am sure that Mr. Fogg here will…”

“Fogg!” exclaimed Manuel, “are you Senor Fogg?”

“Yes, I am” replied Phileas

“Senor, to meet such an adventurer as you, it is an honour!” came the reply, “therefore the balloon is yours. I will not seek any payment from one adventurer to another” and with that he tried to sit up to shake Phileas’s hand but shrieked in pain as his leg was unable to bear the weight, but Phileas simply smiled and said “Sir, I cannot thank you enough!”

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Chapter Fifty Seven

For the rest of that day, the entire crew of the Grant and a large number of passengers were put to work. Aouda was in charge of making sure that the sail cloth was used to patch up the balloon cloth and soon her cabin was filled to the brim with cloth. Jean, Drummond and Fix retrieved the basket and after a little disagreement about how strong the Englishmen were compared to the Frenchman, the Frenchman won the argument by pushing the basket so hard that the Englishmen were thrown against the side of the ship. Manuel and Phileas spoke at length about the workings of the balloon including how to use the winds to his favour and the two came to the conclusion that it would be possible to travel to San Francisco in less than twenty-one hours. However, Manuel warned against up draughts, a common problem that once saw him being taken to a height of thirty thousand feet where he very nearly froze to death, but as Phileas nodded his understand he added “But you didn’t, but I will take your caution on board” and as Manuel explained about the rope that was both a tether and an anchor, Phileas believed that he was now capable of flying a balloon. 

By now, Jean had retrieved the most important part of the whole balloon. It was a very large lamp which was the means of heating the air in the balloon. However, Manuel’s problem was that he had ran out of alcohol and therefore didn’t have any fuel but that wasn’t a problem for Phileas and as the sunset over the town, Jean returned to the restaurant and found the owner still playing his guitar and delivered his master’s request. The owner was a little surprised but agreed the deal. However, as Jean rowed back with the alcohol, he discovered one small problem, the very strong fumes, for as he arrived back at the Grant, he made his way to his master’s room, where his master was deep in conversation with Manuel about which route to take. He opened the door, and staggering in carrying a large bottle of tequila, announced with a friendly face, “Bonsoir, Monsieur, I am drunk!” before he hiccupped and collapsed to the floor completely overwhelmed by the fumes which prompted Phileas and Manuel to look at each other with an expression of disbelief. As Phileas examined his lover, it was plain to see that he was not in any danger, in fact the smile on his face reasured Phileas that he was having a dream and part of him wished that he could be experiencing it as well

"Oh, Issac, how big are your arms?"

As Jean manhandled the boulders that were the arms of his ancestor, Issac de Porthau, the man mountain chuckled

"Twenty four English inches, according to Henri"

As Jean moved onto the Titan's heaving chest, he moaned uncontrollably. They were both naked, having pushed themselves to their physical limits lifting boulders the size of their heads and now worshipping each other. The mutual appreciation of their physiques was enhanced when Jean took a bottle of oil and as he spread it on Issac's chest the Titan moaned "Oui, mon amis, cover me in oil as the heroes of Olympia were for I am one of them!"

The oiling soon turned into a massage and as Jean's hands covered Issac's pecs, the Titan flexed his arms and started to moan with desire.

"These are not arms" moaned Jean, massaging the biceps, "they are boulders, Boulders underneath your skin! And your forearms, they are harder than iron!"

Jean then moved to massage the Titan's bardyard lats and as he did so the Titan raised his arms, flexing them again and moaned "Hold on to me, mon amis, and let me show my strength" and without another word Jean dangled on the muscles as Issac raised him above the ground. Loweing him to the ground Jean couldn't stand anymore and turned Issac around and about to embrace him when the Titan moved Jean's hands to his glutes moaning "There is no part of me that is weak, non?" to which Jean could only nod in reply, his desire growing.

After nearly fifteen minutes of worship, both men lay down on the cool grass beneath them and as Jean poured more oil onto the Titan's chest, Issac did the same to Jean and soon they were both glistening in the hot sunshine. As Issac took a deep breath and flexed his abs, Jean's moans became more uncontrollable and he punched the Titan's abs which prompted the Titan to chuckle then present his shoulders which Jean's attacks simply couldn't dent and it wasn't long before Jean was punching every muscle on display. The mutual appreciation of Jean towards the Titan's size and strength and the Titan towards Jean's desire for him soon led to both men's manhoods hardening and as Jean oiled the fifteen inch long rod that was the Titan's cock, the mutual atrraction overtook Jean and he started to nibble on the Titan's nipples whilst rubbing the mighty rod.

Issac's moans became even more delierious as he moaned "Yes, mon amis, yes"  and as they looked into each other's eyes Isaac moaned "Come, mon amis, prove yourself worthy" and with that Jean grabbed his own thirteen inch cock and in unison the two began to rub.

"Look at me" moaned Issac, "look at your Titan, look at the man who has stolen your heart, mon amis. Look at the man whose feats of strength have inspired you, look at the man who can do things that no normal man can do" and with that he started to breathe deeply and slowly.

"Aye" moaned Jean and asked, in a whisper, "Mon amis, do you wish to become a true man?" to which Issac moaned "Aye, lad!"

Readjusting himself, Jean faced Issac and staring at him moaned "Look into my eyes, mon amis, look into my soul. Feel the power of my mind overwhelm you!"

As Issac moaned and his eyelids started to droop Jean moaned "You are getting sleepy, mon amis, sleepy, sleepy!" and with that Issac was under Jean's control.

"When I snap my fingers" moaned Jean, "you will believe yourself to be a god. You stand twenty feet tall, weigh over eleven hundred pounds, and be the strongest man ever to live!" and with that he snapped his fingers and as Issac's eyes opened wide it was clear that the idea had taken root.

"Look at me, mon amis" Issac moaned, "I am the biggest, strongest man ever to walk the earth" and as he did so his assault on his cock instenfied as did Jean's on his own. It was clear that both men were being pushed to the limits of their sexual endurance and as they leaned onto each other's chests, they could hear the opposite heart pounding deep inside. This sound tipped both men over the edge and as Issac moaned "Come, mon amis, spill my seed" Jean moaned the same and the assualt on their cocks became so hard that only Titans could withstand it. They both looked into each other's eyes and as Jean commanded Issac to come in "three, two, one, CUM!" Issac's face scrunched up in agony followed by a mighty roar as a stream of cum shot out from Issac covering his heaving chest, abs and even landing on the tree behind him. This was Jean's trigger and as he came in sympathy, his cum shot straight up landing on his heaving abs. As both men welcomed the orgasm that followed, Issac placed his hand on Jean's quads and moaned "Mon amis, may I be...your lover?"

"Oui, mon amis" moaned Jean as he woke up from his tequila inspired dream and as he opened his eyes, his master smiled and said "Once the princess has been returned to her family, Jean, I wish to meet this Titan of yours and yes, you can hypnotise me to become him as well!" and with that he kissed his lover on the lips and left his quarters to resume his discussions with Manuel who asked after Jean.

"He's fine" smiled Phileas as he sat down next to the Spaniard, "in fact you could say he's come around again!" and with that chuckled at the joke he made.

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Chapter Fifty Eight

By the following morning all of the jobs had been completed and although Manuel’s balloon was still draped over the Grant’s funnel, it was in the best possible place for the plan to relaunch it. The Captain had given the order to make the furnaces of the Grant as hot as possible in order to provide the initial lift that the balloon needed and as he nodded he called out “All hands, open the chimney!” and as the order was given, the balloon started to inflate. And so, as the sun started to rise over the Pacific, the balloon gently got bigger and bigger until it was gently bobbing above the Grant. As the party got into the basket, Phileas took his hat off to the Captain and thanked him for all their help.

“Oh, gee, Mr. Fogg” replied the Captain, going slightly red, “we’re both adventurers in a way, only I don’t think I’d have the courage to go around the world!”

Manuel also joined in the departure party wishing Phileas a good journey in his native Spanish, to which Phileas replied in kind.

"Okay lads” shouted the Captain, “let’s get this baby off to San Francisco” and as the crew cut the restraining ropes scattered across the ship and the balloon gently floated up, the Captain shouted “If you see Sheriff Buck, tell him that Larry passes on his best wishes!”

Phileas nodded that he would and set about piloting the balloon but soon noticed that they were not going up as fast as he had been led to believe.

“PHILEAS” shouted the Captain, “YOU’VE GOT A COUPLE OF STOWAWAYS!” and pointed below the basket. The party peered over the edge and were astonished to find Fix and Drummond. The inspector, rather sheepishly, said “Ah, good morning, Mr. Fogg, I apologise being an inconvenience but my partner and I have urgent business in San Francisco and well, we wondered if you wouldn’t mind giving us a lift so to speak?”

Phileas’s initial reaction was one of suspicion. These two businessmen had business in Yokohama and then suddenly popped up in the middle of the Pacific wanting to go to San Francisco, but he was an Englishman and so ordered Jean to increase the fire to ensure that the balloon was able to travel as fast as they had hoped and soon the joint parties were on their way. As they passed over the town, they were joined by another balloon, this one was being piloted by Timothy who only had the luxury of a water barrel as his basket, but had one advantage over Phileas. He could pedal but his joy was short-lived as a collection of crows, perhaps attracted to his malice, started to peck at his balloon puncturing it and causing Timothy to fall out of his basket and land on a wild mustang, which was last seen bucking in the general direction of Tijuana.

As for the Fogg party, they were making very pleasant progress north and according to Jean’s sun clock remarkably rapid progress as well with an estimate that they would arrive in San Francisco as early as the following day. Jean, however was worried about their “excess baggage” as he called them, however the only concern they had was that Drummond, who admitted that he got sea sick on a ship, was now feeling as if he got sick in the air as well and leaned over in order to avoid the worst of it, but overbalanced the basket and if it had not been for a feat of almost superhuman strength by the Inspector would have fallen out which led to the Inspector remonstrating with the now clearly ill constable. All of which had been witnessed by Timothy, who had managed to tame the mustang he had landed on and was now following the balloon on horseback.

As they passed over the Transverse Ranges mountains that formed a natural barrier between Mexico and the United States, Jean filled the Inspector’s hat with snow and lowered it down to him and the constable where the inspector placed it on his companion’s head in an effort to cure his headache and in a moment of candid appreciation, Drummond moaned “You’re too good to me, sir!”

In order to ensure a successful clearance of the mountains, Phileas ordered the balloon to increase height and as Jean adjusted the flame the balloon soared into the heights and burst through the clouds into some of the highest points ever experienced by man and instantly encountered a problem that Manuel had identified, the perishing cold.

“Ah” said Phileas as he shivered along with Jean and Aouda, “that’s what happens you know! Every time you climb a thousand feet, the temperature reduces by about four degrees Fahrenheit. Now I happen to know that the mountains in the Transverse Ranges range in height from between seven thousand feet and twelve thousand feet and the fact that we have broken through the cloud deck, leads me to believe we could be as high as fourteen thousand feet. Now, in Ensenada, the temperature when we left was about forty-five degrees Fahrenheit, now I estimate at the moment it’s closer to fifty, therefore we take fourteen and times that by four which gives us fifty-six and take that away from the fifty which leaves us with minus six so therefore I can confidently say, the air temperature is minus six degrees Fahrenheit” and then as he realised what he said added “Perhaps it might be a good idea just to lower ourselves a little bit, say to around five thousand feet eh?”

Jean smiled and pulled on a rope to let some of the hot air out of the balloon and they slowly descended below the clouds again and continued on their way into southern California. However, underneath the basket, one of the passengers was trying to the make the best of a bad situation.

“I’m sorry about your hat, sir” said Drummond

“I am not talking to you” came the indignant reply

“But, we could always get it cleaned up in San Francisco” Drummond said, trying to be helpful.

“I said, I am not speaking to you!” said the inspector

Suddenly, Drummond was hit by another bout of air sicknesses and the inspector yelled “Not into the wind” but it was too late and as the inspector moaned “Oh, Drummond”, it would make sense for us to draw a veil over perhaps the first recorded case of airsickness in the world

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Chapter Fifty Nine

As the balloon carried along its way, Manuel’s concerns about up draughts were proven right as the travelling party were now above the clouds again and being punished by the icy cold, but the travelers bravely fought the cold air and were making good progress, although Jean was concerned that he couldn’t actually see the ground. Phileas smiled as he took out his watch and announced that they should be passing over the mountains just to the south of San Francisco but as Jean leant over, all he could see was clouds, clouds and more clouds. It was the same for Fix and Drummond and Drummond began to wonder whether they would ever see land again. Fix reassured him that he would, however he then gave a massive sneeze which started Drummond so much that he almost fell out of the washing basket that was their transport but was pulled back in by the inspector, who then overbalanced and ended up in the same position. Thankfully, Drummond rescued his superior officer and as they both breathed a sigh of relief, the balloon started to descend through the clouds. However, this was not a planned descent, the reason was that the air in the balloon was starting to cool down and with all of the fuel spent, nothing would stop its gentle descent.

“Mr. Fogg” exclaimed the inspector, suddenly, “we’re going to hit that mountain, we need to climb!”

The mountain was avoided, thanks to Phileas’s keen skills, however the pine trees on the mountainside knocked the two policemen about something rotten and eventually tipped them out, but they managed to grab hold of the basket and as they held on for dear life, Drummond asked, even in his predicament, “Mr. Fogg, sir, could you increase our height, just a little, please?” and so it was resolved to throw everything out of the basket that the travelers didn’t need. Jean nodded and soon was throwing empty bottles and sandbags, most of which clonked the unfortunate policemen on the head, but the effect was as desired and as the balloon sailed over the mountain, the coolness of the air inside the balloon caused it to float down, this time towards San Francisco’s famous bay.

The harbourmaster had seen many things enter the harbour of San Francisco, but even had to look twice as the balloon sailed over the collection of ships in the harbour and as it he did swore “I’m never touching moonshine ever again” and threw the bottle he had been holding into the bay. By now the basket that the policemen were in was perilously close to the ocean, and matters were made no better as they then found themselves having to run the gannet of the masts of the gathered ships, however despite surviving that scare, the two policemen were eventually unceremoniously dumped into the bay and as they swam for shore, the balloon started to climb again and headed towards the old town, made famous by that hardy band of people, the forty niners who had started California’s track to the state that it now was. Indeed, some “old timers” as they were called still walked the streets, but even they had never seen a balloon arrive in the city and sensing the opportunity to have a little sport, they unholstered their guns and used the balloon as a moving target.

Their accuracy was without question and as the balloon started to fall towards the ground, Phileas unfurled the rope that acted as a tether and whilst warning Aouda and Jean to prepare for a bumpy landing he tried his best to produce a smooth landing and remarkably managed the task as it landed with only a small bump right in the heart of the old town and soon attracted quite the crowd of locals. As Phileas carried Aouda from the basket, a horseman rode up and announced “Okay you lot, I’ll deal with this!” and with that dismounted and introduced himself as the local sheriff and demanded to know who they were. Phileas smiled, introduced themselves and whilst apologising for their slightly odd arrival, presented the sheriff with their passports and asked if he could direct them to the British embassy adding “Oh, by the way, Larry passes on his best wishes!”

The sheriff suddenly burst into a beaming smile and as he announced to the crowd “Yep, he’s a Limey all right, they always speak like that, heck, not even a Texan could make up a story like that” he turned around and said “So that’s what Larry meant by us expecting “someone to drop in unannounced”, well, Mr. Fogg, welcome to San Francisco, put them there pardner!” and with that shook the party’s hands. The pleasantries were observed by another visitor to the town and as Timothy watched, a wicked grin crossed his face. Disguised as a cowboy, he had ingratiated himself into a band of gunmen and was going to use them to stop Phileas in his tracks and with that mounted the horse that he had been given and rode off to meet up with the rest of the gang located in the hills, just outside the city

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Chapter Sixty

The British embassy was in an old saloon, and having stamped their passports and wished them well on their journey, the travelling party next decided to have a little look around the city that would be their home until the train left for New York. The first thing that struck Jean was now new the city looked. Phileas explained that it was new, having only been founded in the last fifty or so years. The next thing they found was that, in part due to its newness, all the locals were very welcoming and a couple of troubadours outside a saloon regaled them with a song about the country that they were in, which was rewarded by Phileas giving them both crisp ten dollar bills, gratefully received with a doff of the hat. They also encountered stagecoaches and children eating corn on the cob which prompted Phileas to seek a hotel for some lunch and after asking the locals for a recommendation found himself outside the International Hotel.

The ground floor of the hotel was occupied by a large bar, a sort of restaurant freely open to all passers-by, who might partake of dried beef, oyster soup, biscuits, and cheese, without taking out their purses. Payment was made only for the ale, porter, or sherry which was drunk. This seemed “very American” to Jean. The hotel refreshment-rooms were comfortable and so Phileas booked a room for them all and asked when lunch was served. The hotel owner snapped his fingers and said “You’re the limey who arrived by balloon aren’t you?”

Phileas nodded and was soon being regaled with information that would prove valuable later on that day.

“When you leave us” said the hotel owner, “not before signing the visitor’s book I hope, you need to cross the bay and get to the town of Oakland, from there you head to the station where the train leaves for New York at six o’clock every evening!”

“Thank you very much indeed, sir!” Phileas replied as the owner handed over the keys and then asked a question that took Phileas rather by surprise, “Now, sir, would you like a Colt or a Smith?”

“Neither” he replied

“You’re serious aren’t you?” replied the owner

“That is correct, sir” replied Phileas, “I do not see any reason to purchase a firearm!”

Sadly, no sooner had he spoken than the hotel owner ducked as the lamp above his head was shattered by a shot. Turning to the direction where the bullet had come from, the party was shocked to see a man holding a smoking pistol across a table, on the other side of which was another man who after gasping “He always was quicker on the draw” slumped across the table, dead.

“There’s your reason” said the hotel owner as he came back up, “No firearm means that you won’t last more than a couple of minutes in this part of town” and with that presented a selection of firearms onto the bar. A practice that Jean was quite surprised about and asked why he dabbled in the sale of guns.

“Well” replied the owner, as he twirled one of them, “let’s just say that the previous owners never got a chance to use them!”

“That’s very kind of you to offer” replied Phileas, “but I am sure that we will get along very well without them thank you very much. Now, our keys, sir?”

As the owner handed over the keys, the party made their way to their room which was quite small, with only the one table and the one bed, but suited them all very nicely indeed. Once settled in, Phileas assessed their current situation and came to the conclusion that although they were on schedule again, they had lost the two days gained by catching the Grant at Shanghai instead of Yokohama. Aouda was concerned that those two days would be important, but Phileas eased her concerns by confirming that they would arrive in London on December 21st as planned and within the eighty-day limit. However, just then Jean’s stomach rumbled so loudly, he apologised and as he got up, Phileas smiled and said “I can take a hint, besides you’ve used a lot of strength in the last few days haven’t you?” and patted the manservant’s back.

In the time since they had left the hotel’s bar, it had filled up with some of the roughest and toughest men that San Francisco had to offer and as the party came down the stairs, this attitude was on full display as several of the cowboys started to pay exceptionally unwanted attention to Aouda, with wolf whistles filling the air but Phileas told her to ignore them and they all sat down to their meal.

“These Americans” grumbled Jean, “they have no manners at all!”

“You have to remember” said Phileas, as he pushed Aouda’s chair to the table, “that in this part of the world men outnumber women by a factor of over twenty to one”

As Jean looked around, he said to himself, “They may outnumber women twenty to one, but I don’t see anyone I’d like to outnumber!”

As a waitress came over to take their order, Phileas asked her for her recommendation. However, the suggestion of buffalo steak was instantly rejected by Jean, so four orders of soup were taken instead and as she left Jean asked “Monsieur, was she a…?”

Phileas nodded and said “Yes, she was, but I think it’s best if we don’t describe her as one. I happen to know that a great number of their community resent the word, therefore I think it’s best if we describe her as what she is, an American with clearly African backgrounds!”

As the waitress went into the kitchen, a man who looked as though he hadn’t washed in a week came to the table and said, in a polite manner, “Excuse me, sir, can I trouble you please?”

“Of course you may” replied Phileas and the man sat down next to him and took a bag from his tattered jacket.

“Sir” he said, “I would like to offer you some grade A gold dust, mined by my own fair hands”

“Gold dust?” asked Phileas

“That’s right, sir” replied the man, “I’ve been prospecting for twenty years, that’s two decades, man and boy, but at the moment I am a little short on cash and was wondering…”

“Would you look at that!” laughed one of the cowboys, “Old Jeb’s found another stool!” and with that led the mocking laughter. The man turned around and shouted “What do you mean? This is grade A gold dust and you know it!” and with that turned back to Phileas and apologised for his outburst.

“May I see it please?” asked Phileas, with a kindly smile.

“Of course you may” replied the man and handed the bag over to Phileas who peered in. Then without showing any reaction, he closed the bag up and said “Sir, I agree, that is the purest gold dust I have ever seen, Unfortunately, we are only visitors to your city and we have to leave this evening on a train to New York, I therefore believe that it would be unwise to carry such a large amount of valuable material on me. So therefore, sir, with your permission, I would like to pay for twenty dollars’ worth of that dust, in the knowledge that you will hold it in trust for me until I return to London at which point I will send a cable confirming the purchase and ask that you deposit it in one of the local banks here in my name?” and with that Phileas handed the bag back to the man and gave him a twenty-dollar bill.

“Thank you sir” the man replied as he placed the bag in one pocket and the money in the other, “I am not in the habit of taking money from strangers, but I look forward to receiving your cable and will do as you have asked” at which point he bowed. Phileas nodded his head and the man left to howls of derision from the cowboys. As he did Phileas gestured for the party to lean in and whispered “What a sad case, my friends. That man has been driven mad by the belief that there was gold in these hills. That gold dust was nothing but soil. It’s a great pity that these people have to beg to survive these days!”

Suddenly, the jollity in the bar came to an abrupt halt as a collection of men entered each of which looked as if they meant trouble. As if sensing trouble, the bar was vacated and even the hotel owner stammered “Why, hello there, Dingo Kid, what can I get you?”

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Chapter Sixty One

“A free beer!” the Kid replied swiping a bottle from the counter and drinking it down in one. As he did he turned to one of his colleagues and said “Now, what’s this about a real pretty lady you were talking about?”. The cowboy leant against the bar and pointed to Aouda and as the Kid looked, he started to chuckle “Watch this” and made his way towards her. As he did, Timothy chuckled. This plan was completely full proof, there was no way that Phileas could buy himself out this time and watched as the Kid grabbed hold of Aouda’s hand and started to ravish her.

“Sir” said Phileas standing up, “please leave her alone so that we enjoy our meal!”

“No one gives me orders, gringo!” replied the Kid and soon the two men were nose to nose.

“Then perhaps it is time that someone did” said Phileas, his eyes narrowing.

“I’m called the Dingo Kid” replied the Kid, his eyes narrowing as well, “the fastest draw in the west, and you are?”

“Phileas Fogg, sir” replied Phileas, “and I would like to think I am a true Englishman!”

The Dingo Kid started to chuckle and then burst out laughing and turning to his gang said “Hey, you guys, check out the Limey! Look, no guns!”

“I do not believe in firearms, sir” came the reply, and with that he picked up his cane adding “I believe this is even better than a firearm!”

By now the Kid was in danger of collapsing with laughter and grabbed Aouda again. This time Phileas’s actions were even more direct and he said “Sir, you have incurred my wrath. If you insist on a fight, then I accept!”

“Well” smiled the Kid, “the Limey does have some guts then. What a shame the only place they will be in on the floor! I accept your challenge and ask that you chose your weapon!”

The hotel owner ducked down behind the counter and emerged with a collection of guns but Phileas shook his head and held his cane like a fencing sword.

“Guns against a cane” mocked the Kid, “oh this is easier than taking candy from a baby!” and with that moved to the far end of the hotel. In the meantime, the hotel owner was hoping, against hope, that nothing got damaged in the crossfire but a stern “Keep your mouth shut and don’t interfere” from Timothy saw the hotel owner grab a bottle and cower underneath the counter. Just at that moment Fix and Drummond entered the bar and were stunned to see Phileas at the opposite end holding his cane facing a gunman.

“Easy does it, Drummond” said Fix and they slowly backed away from the doors.

“Rico” commanded the Kid, “give the signal and I’ll make sure that this greenhorn doesn’t leave this city alive!”

“With pleasure, boss” smiled Timothy wickedly and with that took the gun out of his holster and held it in the air.

For the next few moments, the air in the bar could be cut with a knife. No one dare breath as the two combatants faced each other, all the while Timothy’s smile was getting bigger and bigger. Phileas would be killed and therefore unable to complete his journey and all it would take was a single shot and as Timothy pulled the trigger of his gun he relished every millisecond of it.

To understand what happened next, it is necessary to slow time down by a factor of nearly a hundred. Timothy’s gunshot was the trigger that saw the Dingo Kid perform a move he had done hundreds of times before, and within nine tenths of a second after the gunshot, his gun was aimed at Phileas. Phileas’ response to the gunshot was just as fast as within a third of a second, Phileas has spun around and using every ounce of strength he could muster threw his cane at the Dingo Kid another third of a second later. Thanks to either incredible mathematical skills on Phileas’s part, or sheer good luck, the cane found its target (the barrel of the Kid’s gun) at the precise moment he fired so that the bullet was able to travel along the gun chamber but was stopped by the cane where at which point it went backwards into the cylinder where the bullets were house. This in turn caused the cylinder to explode and caused the Dingo Kid to scream in pain and throw the gun away. Phileas caught the cane with the gun attached at the end and after pulling out his cane, threw the gun to the floor and said “Sir, you will leave this hotel at once!”

“When I’m finished with you, gringo, you’ll wish you’d never been born!” the Kid roared and rolled up his sleeves. Without thinking Jean leapt to his master’s aid and both men put up their fists. Suddenly, Fix burst through the doors of the hotel, having witnessed the whole event from a safe distance, and stood next to the master and the manservant with his own fists raised with Drummond entering a few seconds later saying “I don’t know what my boss is doing, but I’m with him as well!”

Just as the Kid was about to throw his punch, the sheriff came bursting in and rugby tackled the Kid to the floor saying “You just can’t stay out of trouble, can you? I told you never to come back here!” and with that the two men wrestled, piquing Jean’s interest a great deal. Eventually the Kid screamed “Uncle, I give up” at which point the Sheriff picked him up by the scruff of the neck and dragged him outside. The rest of the gang, realising that the game was up, followed. The last of whom however shot the four defenders a wicked look. His plan had been foiled, but he had more than one way to stop Phileas and with that broke rank, jumped on a nearby horse and rode out of town in a hail of bullets from the sheriff.

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Chapter Sixty Two

“Excuse me, monsieur, but I wonder if you can help me?”

“But of course, sir” replied the hotel owner, “what would you like?”

“Do you happen to know a place where I can buy some guns?”

“But, I thought that your master said…”

“My master says a lot of things” replied Jean, “the majority of which I take on board, however his insistence about not having any guns is one that I cannot accept!”

“I know just the place” smiled the hotel owner and handed Jean a card that read “For the best guns this side of the Sierra Nevada, visit Buck’s place” with directions to the shop in question. Jean thanked the hotel owner and went back upstairs and said “Monsieur Fix, may I borrow your companion for a few hours, I would like his sage advice on a topic of some concern!”

“Drummond?” exclaimed Fix, “a sage?” but consented knowing that he had to keep Jean on board and so the two gentlemen departed and a few moments later, Phileas, Fix and Aouda also departed for a walk through San Francisco.

***

As the Frenchman and the English policeman entered the shop on the business card, the usual reassuring tinkle of a bell that they expected from any shop in a civilised nation, had been replaced by two sharp reports of a gun being fired that caused Drummond to dive to the ground yelling “I’ve been shot” a reaction that caused the shop owner to nearly collapse in hysterics.

“Oh boy!” he said, slamming the counter with his hand and laughing, “You must be a limey!”

“That is true, Monsieur” replied Jean, “but I am Francais!” and with that handed over the business card.

“Well” said the owner, “anyone who comes here on the personal recommendation of the owner of the International Hotel gets my complete attention! Now, what would you like gents?”

Jean took a list out of his pocket and read a list of nearly every make of gun the American nation had produced. The owner listened carefully and asked to see the list. He read it carefully and then screwed it up and threw it away.

“What you need” he said, “is this!” and with that ducked down behind the counter and placed a rifle on the counter that drew appreciative oohs from both men.

“Gentlemen” he said, “may I present the premier rifle in California today. This is an Enfield rifle. It’s fifty-five inches long, weighs just under ten pounds, takes a point five seven seven ball and can fire that ball at nine hundred feet a second over a distance of two thousand yards and if I may say so is my own personal choice of rifle!”

Jean examined the rifle closely and agreed with the gunsmith and bought a pair of them, but Drummond wasn’t entirely convinced and asked the gunsmith if he had something a little less conspicuous.

“I like your thinking, limey!” he said, and produced three smaller guns onto the counter. “These are all Colt revolvers, and where you are heading you are going to need them. Forty-three ounces in weight and only fourteen inches long, perfect for hiding on your person. It takes a paper-wrapped point four four caliber round and conical ball which can fire up to a thousand feet a second but only has a range of about seventy-five yards, but unlike the rifle where you can get three shots out in a minute, this allows you to shoot six shots in less time than it has taken me to explain about it!”

Passepartout took two of the guns and after examining them closely, picked up a holster from a nearby shelf and went into the back of the shop to try them out. The gunsmith offered Drummond the last one but the policeman declined.

“Listen, mister!” he said, “You are heading east to New York, and that means passing through any number of lands that the Indians call home and believe you and me, they don’t much care for folk!”

“Don’t they?” he asked

“They are a lazy, backward people anyway” he explained, “But if you intend to go out into the desert without a gun then I don’t think you’ll be able to enjoy New York!”

Drummond started to shake like a leaf and so, with a great deal of reluctance, bought the remaining gun. As he did Jean left the back of the shop and came walking towards Drummond with the expression of a desperado. As he drew the guns, like an expert, the shopkeeper whooped with delight and said “Now, there’s a man who knows how to handle his guns” and as a result took ten percent of the price of the sales in celebration.

***

Phileas, Aouda and Fix were enjoying their walk through San Francisco and even the inspector had to admit that Phileas’s knowledge of the town was putting him to shame. They soon found themselves in Montgomery Street, where a great crowd was collected; the side-walks, street, horsecar rails, the shop-doors, the windows of the houses, and even the roofs, were full of people. Men were going about carrying large posters, and flags and streamers were floating in the wind; while loud cries were heard on every hand.

“Hurrah for Camerfield!”

“Hurrah for Mandiboy!”

It was a political meeting; at least so Fix conjectured, who said to Mr. Fogg, “Perhaps we had better not mingle with the crowd. There may be danger in it.”

“Yes,” returned Phileas; “and blows, even if they are political are still blows.”

Fix smiled at this remark; and, in order to be able to see without being jostled about, the party took up a position on the top of a flight of steps situated at the upper end of Montgomery Street. Opposite them, on the other side of the street, between a coal wharf and a petroleum warehouse, a large platform had been erected in the open air, towards which the current of the crowd seemed to be directed.

For what purpose was this meeting? What was the occasion of this excited assemblage? Phileas Fogg could not imagine. Was it to nominate some high official—a governor or member of Congress? It was not improbable, so agitated was the multitude before them.

Just at this moment there was an unusual stir in the human mass. All the hands were raised in the air. Some, tightly closed, seemed to disappear suddenly in the midst of the cries—an energetic way, no doubt, of casting a vote. The crowd swayed back, the banners and flags wavered, disappeared an instant, then reappeared in tatters. The undulations of the human surge reached the steps, while all the heads floundered on the surface like a sea agitated by a squall. Many of the black hats disappeared, and the greater part of the crowd seemed to have diminished in height.

“It is evidently a meeting,” said Fix, “and its object must be an exciting one. I should not wonder if it were about the Alabama, despite the fact that that question is settled.”

“Perhaps,” replied Mr. Fogg, simply.

Phileas’s concern was indeed, quite justified. The Alabama under discussion was not the state in the south of the country, but the ship.

Aouda, leaning upon Mr. Fogg’s arm, observed the tumultuous scene with surprise, while Fix asked a man near him what the cause of it all was. Before the man could reply, a fresh agitation arose; hurrahs and excited shouts were heard; the staffs of the banners began to be used as offensive weapons; and fists flew about in every direction. Thumps were exchanged from the tops of the carriages and omnibuses which had been blocked up in the crowd. Boots and shoes went whirling through the air, and Mr. Fogg thought he even heard the crack of revolvers mingling in the din, the rout approached the stairway, and flowed over the lower step. One of the parties had evidently been repulsed; but the mere lookers-on could not tell whether Mandiboy or Camerfield had gained the upper hand.

“It would be prudent for us to retire,” said Fix, who was anxious that Mr. Fogg should not receive any injury, at least until they got back to London. “If there is any question about England in all this, and we were recognised, I fear it would go hard with us.”

“An English subject—” began Mr. Fogg.

He did not finish his sentence; for a terrific hubbub now arose on the terrace behind the flight of steps where they stood, and there were frantic shouts of, “Hurrah for Mandiboy! Hip, hip, hurrah!”

It was a band of voters coming to the rescue of their allies, and taking the Camerfield forces in flank. Mr. Fogg, Aouda, and Fix found themselves between two fires; it was too late to escape. The torrent of men, armed with loaded canes and sticks, was irresistible. Phileas Fogg and Fix were roughly hustled in their attempts to protect their fair companion; the former, as cool as ever, tried to defend himself with the weapons which nature has placed at the end of every Englishman’s arm, but in vain. A big brawny fellow with a red beard, flushed face, and broad shoulders, who seemed to be the chief of the band, raised his clenched fist to strike Mr. Fogg, whom he would have given a crushing blow, had not Fix rushed in and received it in his stead. An enormous bruise immediately made its appearance under the detective’s silk hat, which was completely smashed in.

“Yankee!” exclaimed Mr. Fogg, darting a contemptuous look at the ruffian.

“Englishman!” returned the other. “We will meet again!”

“When you please.”

“What is your name?”

“Phileas Fogg. And yours?”

“Colonel Stamp Proctor.”

The human tide now swept by, after overturning Fix, who speedily got upon his feet again, though with tattered clothes. Happily, he was not seriously hurt. His travelling overcoat was divided into two unequal parts, and his trousers resembled those of certain Indians, which fit less compactly than they are easy to put on. Aouda had escaped unharmed, and Fix alone bore marks of the fray in his black and blue bruise.

“Thanks,” said Mr. Fogg to the detective, as soon as they were out of the crowd.

“No thanks are necessary,” replied. Fix; “but let us go.”

“Where?”

“To a tailor’s.”

Such a visit was, indeed, opportune. The clothing of both Mr. Fogg and Fix was in rags, as if they had themselves been actively engaged in the contest between Camerfield and Mandiboy. An hour after, they were once more suitably attired, and with Aouda returned to the International Hotel. Jean and Drummond were waiting for them and as he showed off the guns he had bought, Jean explained his reasons.

“When I was in the circus, monsieur, I received training in the art of firearms. Having witnessed the events of this afternoon, I believe that it would be in all our interests to be able to defend ourselves. We are going to cross this whole country, a country that is populated by people who would much rather chop our scalps off than pass the time of day. If anything happened to us, monsieur, and we didn’t have any firearms, I would hold myself responsible” and with that bowed his head adding “I am sorry to have disobeyed your instructions, monsieur, but…”

“Thank you for your concern, Jean” replied Phileas, “and, yes, perhaps you are right” and with that allocated a gun for Fix, a gun for Drummond, a gun for Jean and two guns for himself but warned that they were only to be used in exceptional circumstances, a wow they all agreed to.

***

At a quarter before six the travellers reached the station, and found the train ready to depart. As he was about to enter it, Mr. Fogg called a porter, and said to him: “My friend, was there not some trouble to-day in San Francisco?”

“It was a political meeting, sir,” replied the porter.

“But I thought there was a great deal of disturbance in the streets.”

“It was only a meeting assembled for an election.”

“The election of a general-in-chief, no doubt?” asked Mr. Fogg.

“No, sir; of a justice of the peace.”

Phileas said nothing as he boarded the train

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Chapter Sixty Three

“We’ve found him at last, gentlemen, we’ve found him!”

“Found who?” asked Mr. Sullivan as Mr. Wesson and Mr. Ralph of the Telegraph bounded into the Reform Club clutching a piece of paper

“Phileas” came the reply from Mr. Ralph, explaining that he had just received word from one of the many correspondents across the world that Phileas had been sighted in San Francisco.

“I find that very hard to believe” said Mr. Sullivan resuming his game of billiards, “You’ll be telling me next that he’s already on a train heading east” and as he pulled the cue back, Mr. Wesson declared “He is” which caused Mr. Sullivan to miss his shot

“Nothing is impossible for Phileas” chirped Mr. Ralph, “you mark my words, he’ll get here well before the twenty first!”

“Not if Timothy does his job!” muttered Mr. Sullivan under his breath.

***

“The Pacific Railroad is joined by several branches in Iowa, Kansas, Colorado, and Oregon. On leaving Omaha, it passes along the left bank of the Platte River as far as the junction of its northern branch, follows its southern branch, crosses the Laramie territory and the Wahsatch Mountains, turns the Great Salt Lake, and reaches Salt Lake City, the Mormon capital, plunges into the Tuilla Valley, across the American Desert, Cedar and Humboldt Mountains, the Sierra Nevada, and descends, via Sacramento, to the Pacific—its grade, even on the Rocky Mountains, never exceeding one hundred and twelve feet to the mile” and he opened his eyes, Phileas chuckled adding “Who needs a Bradshaw’s eh?”

As Jean, Aouda, Fix and Drummond stared in disbelief at Phileas’s almost unlimited knowledge of the American railway system Jean suddenly noticed that they were passing an ocean despite the fact that they were heading inland. Phileas consulted his Bradshaw’s and smiled as he answered “That’s not an ocean, it’s a lake. The Great Salt Lake to be exact. And don’t go getting any ideas about diving into it and doing some fishing. It’s twenty-seven times saltier than the sea!”

“What’s the point of a lake without any fish?” grumbled Jean but as he sat down, a hearty chuckle came from the seat behind him and developed into booming laugh that caused Jean to turn around and say “Monsieur, if something is so funny, then I insist on telling us the joke!”

The man got up and turned to face Jean. He was very tall, at least six-foot-tall but unlike the sort of men that height that Jean liked, this person was way too big for his own good. The jacket and trousers he was wearing both looked as if they could burst at any moment and as he puffed his cigar into Jean’s face, causing the manservant to cough harshly, he replied “You are, I thought that everyone knew about the Great Salt Lake” and with that sat down next to Aouda and immediately imposed himself on the party, much to everyone’s disgust.

“Yes, siree” he said, “I could tell from the moment I laid eyes on you that you weren’t locals. So where are you from then?”

“London, sir” replied Phileas, trying his hardest to tolerate this brute of a man who quite frankly was not the sort of person he would speak to in normal circumstances.

“Ah, Limeys!” the man replied, “I love the way you talk. I hear that you’ve got some pretty good railroads there, of course they’re nothing like ours, but then England is several hundred times smaller than America, just like you, eh, sir?” and with that he gave Phileas a playful punch on the shoulder.

“Er, indeed, sir” said Phileas, wondering what polite Victorian society had to say about punching someone in the stomach who was becoming an exceptionally unwelcome guest.

“Tell me” he continued, seemingly ignoring the non-verbal signals being given off by the party for him to leave them alone, “do you know who built this railroad and the guy who is in charge of it now?”

“I believe that would be a Mr. Bullman, president of the Union Pacific railway” replied Phileas without looking at his Bradshaw’s

“Indeed he is” replied the man “and you’re looking at him” and as if to emphasize the point, he puffed smoke all over the party which lowered their opinion of him even further, if that were indeed possible.

Fix and Drummond sitting on the other side of the carriage looked at each other and Fix muttered, “Drummond, when you get a chance, knock some sense into that American would you? He’s beginning to get on my nerves!”

“Me too, sir” came the muttered reply

As Phileas pulled out his pocket watch, he smiled and getting up said “Do excuse us, Mr. Bullman, but we are all getting rather hungry so would like to avail ourselves of some lunch!” and taking his lead everyone stood up as well and started to make for the dining carriage. However, Mr. Bullman did the same and said “You know, I think I’ll join you” and with that jumped to his feet and bellowed “Hey, you guys in the dining car, get a sixteen-ounce porterhouse steak going, I’m in the mood for a big lunch!” and as he walked off he added “See you shortly!” leaving all the travelers not entirely sure what to do next.

***

Despite their misgivings about his brash style, Mr. Bullman was actually a very nice luncheon guest and about halfway through the meal, having poured himself a large glass of whisky, he looked up and declared “Say, we’ve reached Promontory Point already! The greatest event in this nation’s history took place here!”

“It did?” asked Phileas

“It sure did!” beamed Mr. Bullman, and with that he leaned back in his seat basking in reflected glory, “May 10th, 1869, the day that this nation become united. That was the day that the Central Pacific met up with the Union Pacific for the first time, and though modesty forbids me, I like to think to think that I had a small role to play in that day!” and with that he closed his eyes and started to remember.

“It was a glorious morning, that day, and at half past ten, the Central Pacific train arrived ready for the ceremonial meeting. As chairman of the railroad I was asked to do the honours and as President Grant handed me the gold spike to hammer into the railroad that would formally make the connection I declared “Hey, give me some room, a guy’s gotta swing you know!”. After posing for a photograph, I took a deep breath, raised that hammer as high as I could and gave that spike the biggest whack I have given anything in my life. Of course, I hurt my back in the process, which caused hilarity from everyone gathered there, but that was beside the point and after the spike had been hammered in, the train from California and the train from Nebraska inched towards each other and when their cow catchers touched, we all gave a mighty cheer. The United States was now able to say that it’s railroads stretched “from sea to shining sea!”

As he slurped down the whisky, he started to brag about his connections to President Grant saying “It was the railroads that secured the election of President Grant in 1868 and I am confident that following his re-election last month, someone not a million miles from you will probably wind up as Transport Secretary in his next cabinet!”

As the travelers were hoping desperately for something to just shut Mr. Bullman up, it came in the form of a sudden and highly unexpected stop. Phileas consulted his Bradshaw’s and couldn’t find any reason and so asked Mr. Bullman for any suggestions. The only suggestion he could come up with was that Indians had put boulders on the line to derail the trains, an idea that caused Jean to splutter into his wine. However, Aouda had found the reason without even realising it, when she commented on the cloud that was low on the horizon. The cloud she had spotted was not a cloud, but dust. Dust kicked up by a trail of animals crossing from one side of the horizon to the other, animals that Mr. Bullman knew only too well.

“Buffaloes?” he screamed into the speaking tube that had told him the news, “what do you mean buffaloes?”

The travelers gazed on this curious spectacle but Phileas Fogg, who had the most reason of all to be in a hurry, remained in his seat, and waited philosophically until it should please the buffaloes to get out of the way. Jean was furious at the delay they occasioned, and longed to discharge his arsenal of revolvers upon them.

“What a country!” cried he. “Mere cattle stop the trains, and go by in a procession, just as if they were not impeding travel! Parbleu! I should like to know if Mr. Fogg foresaw this mishap in his programme! And here’s an engineer who doesn’t dare to run the locomotive into this herd of beasts!”

The engineer did not try to overcome the obstacle, despite Jean's comments, and he was wise for not doing so. He would have crushed the first buffaloes, no doubt, with the cow-catcher; but the locomotive, however powerful, would soon have been checked, the train would inevitably have been thrown off the track, and would then have been helpless. The best course was to wait patiently, and regain the lost time by greater speed when the obstacle was removed which is precisely what had been planned, for outside the sight of the train, Timothy was chuckling to himself. He had found the buffaloes snoozing in the sun and using a pair of binoculars he had bought in San Francisco, knew that if he stampeded them in the right direction, they would cause the train to stop and so firing the last bullet in his gun, Timothy’s wickedness had caused the desired result. But as good as that was, he knew there was only one way that Phileas would give up his journey and mounting his horse he headed east where his skills of disguise were going to be tested to the limit.

The procession of buffaloes lasted six full hours, and it was night before the track was clear. The last ranks of the herd were now passing over the rails, while the first had already disappeared below the southern horizon.

I was first made aware of Promontory Point during the opening ceremony of the 2002 Winter Olympics held in Salt Lake City, marked during what I think must have been the biggest karaoke session of "She'll be coming around the mountain" on record, yet have never actually seen the place in question therefore would like to know whether @tomofutahwould be kind enough to post a picture of the place (if he has one) or promise to post a picture the next time he goes there.

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