The travelers took turns at brief snatches of sleep during the night. The course was due west and there was nothing to be done but to keep the flying craft on its track. Above them the soft tropic stars shone brilliantly. Beneath the flying car was immeasurable blackness. The altitude set by Jack when Tom relieved him at the wheel at midnight was twenty-five hundred feet. This height was maintained throughout the hours of darkness, Tom gauging his height by the barograph, which was, like the other instruments, illumined by a shaded electric light. The side lights or the blindingly bright electric searchlight were not used, as it was not deemed advisable to attract any attention to the flying craft needlessly, and for all they knew they might be flying into the country of hostile tribes.
At last the dawn began to flush redly behind Tom’s back. In less than half an hour it was broad day. What a sight met their eyes! For sublimity and beauty it was the most powerfully impressive any of them had ever beheld. Possibly the height from which they surveyed it lent it additional charm; but even the stolid captain was moved to exclamations of admiration.
Before them were wooded slopes covered with verdure of the most brilliant green. Amidst this verdant carpet were patches of cleared land on which grew what resembled corn. In other cleared patches other crops were flourishing. Directly under their keel was the mighty forest, stretching, as they knew, without interruption to the coast, two thousand miles away.
Beyond the wooded slopes the ground rose abruptly upward, piling skyward in ever increasing majesty and ruggedness to where, sharply outlined against the flawless blue sky, were the sharp peaks of the mighty Andes. The foothills beyond the fruitful slopes already mentioned were, curiously enough, almost bare of vegetation, save for here and there an isolated clump of trees.
Their slopes were cut up and criss-crossed by gullies of unknown depth, and bore the scars of what appeared to be volcanic action. From a small peak not far off, and glaringly conspicuous by its height amidst the other slowly rising foothills, smoke was curling upward in a yellowish column.
But it was the country below them that occupied their immediate attention. From the cultivated patches it was evident that they were flying above a region inhabited by a thrifty race of Indians. The point was, were the inhabitants friendly, or were they like many tribes of the upper basin of the Amazon, possessed of an unalterable hatred of the white man? Much hinged on the answer to these questions.
As they flew along, the question of descending was discussed at length, and they finally, on motion of Captain Sprowl, reached the conclusion that they would descend. But the gas was not to be exhausted from the bag, and in case of attack they were to be ready for instant flight. To attempt to oppose the Indians in their own territory would be folly of the worst sort. It was, therefore, agreed that in case they encountered hostility they were to make discretion the better part of valor and seek safety in the upper air.
They had hardly concluded their consultation before, below them, they saw a large village. It was arranged in the form of a circle, the huts, mostly thatched with palm leaves, with walls of the same material, converging to a common centre. It was, in fact, much as if the huts had been the spokes of a wheel, the hub of which was formed by a more pretentious structure, built, apparently, of blocks of rough stone, probably quarried in the volcanic-looking foothills.
From the village, roads and paths could be seen through the forest in every direction, leading to the fields. As the ship flew, droning like a giant beetle, above the village, its inhabitants were thrown into much the same flurry as possesses a chicken yard when the shadow of a hawk floats across it.
Men, women and children could be seen running from the huts and standing with upturned faces gazing at the monstrous creature of the skies. They could see that most of the men carried spears and bows, and through the glasses they also made out that many of them were armed with bamboo blow-pipes peculiar to the Amazonian tribes.
“Well, what do you think of the prospects?” asked Mr. Chadwick, turning to the skipper, who had been using the binoculars.
“I reckon it’ll be all right to go down,” rejoined the captain slowly, “but have Tom and Dick get the rifles ready first. Have them out of sight but handy and ready for instant use. We may have a tussle; but if we want to get any reliable information about them elephant sloths we’ve got to get it from Injuns. Otherwise, we might hunt about here for twenty years without getting any closer to the critter.”
Jack swung the flying craft in big, lazy circles, while Tom and Dick slipped magazines into the automatics and placed fresh ones ready to use in case there was any necessity. The weapons were then laid out of sight, as they had no wish to antagonize the Indians by a show of force. When all these preparations were concluded Captain Sprowl, who, by common consent, was leader of the adventurers at this stage of their travels, gave the word to descend.
There was a patch of cleared ground outside the village and Jack aimed the great flying auto toward this. By this time the crowd had increased till the village was swarming with humanity. Suddenly, as they shot downward, they saw an odd procession emerge from the central building. Several men in scarlet robes appeared, escorting a tall man dressed entirely in white.
“That’s the king, or chief, or whatever they call him, I reckon,” remarked Captain Sprowl. “If we can make a hit with his nibs, we’re all right.”
“Wonder what those red fellows that look like bottles of chili-sauce, are?” asked Dick, the inquisitive.
“Priests, I guess, or suthin of that nature,” was the reply of the captain, “and say, young fellow, you don’t want to get disrespectful among these folks. They might resent it and their resentment takes the form of a spea............