“Be me sowl, it’s a big country Ameriky is!” declared Barney, as he glanced over the rail. “Shure, it’ll take a heap av foightin’ to iver conquer her!”

“The days of national conquest are over, I guess,” said Frank. “At least I hope so. That is a custom relegated to the dark ages.”

“Hard luck fer ould Oireland,” declared the Celt; “shure av it was to-day she was free, England wud niver conquer her thin.”

“Golly! yo’ might borrow dis air-ship from Marse Frank an’ set yo’ island free if yo’ wanted to,” declared Pomp; “shuah, yo’ cud blow up de hull lot ob dem Britishers.”

Barney’s eyes blazed.

“Bejabers, it’s no more thin they desarve, bad cess to thim,” he declared. “Shure, they’ve had their feet on sufferin’ Oireland’s neck long enuff.”

And so Barney continued to dilate upon the wrongs, real and fancied, of his native isle. He kept on until Pomp began to guy him.

Then he got angry.

“Huh!” cried the darky, “if yo’ people was set free dey nebber cud govern demselves! Shuah dey wud be eatin’ each other up fo’ a fac’!”

“Phwat’s that yez say?” blustered Barney, angrily; “don’t yez cast no aspersions on the ould sod, yez black pickaninny! Shure yez own people wud niver have got free av it hadn’t been fer Gineral Lincoln!”

“Dat shows all yo’ know ’bout fings,” sniffed Pomp; “dar warn’t no sich man as Gineral Linkum.”

“Hey! phwat’s that, naygur? Don’t yez give me de lie!”

“Huh! Linkum warn’t no gineral, sah! He was de President, I’d hab yo’ know, sah!”

Barney elevated his nose contemptuously.

“Be me sowl it’s mighty little yez know onyway. An’ ain’t the President commander-in-chief av the army an’ navy? An’ don’t that make him the bigges’ gineral in the land?”

Pomp saw the point and wilted. He slunk into the galley, muttering:

“I jes’ fix dat I’ishman fo’ pretendin’ to know so much. I jes’ hab a dose ready fo’ him yet!”

What this was we must wait for a later hour to decide. For the present we will consider nearer incidents.

In due course New Orleans was sighted. The air-ship hung over the southern city.

Frank looked for a certain signal, which he saw finally upon the roof of one of the houses.

It was a yellow flag.

At once the air-ship bore down upon it and soon descended within fifty feet of the roof. Up through a skylight popped Captain Nicodemus.

“Ahoy the ship!” he cried.

“Ahoy!” replied Frank.

“I am ready to come aboard. Throw out your gangway!”

“Is that roof strong enough to bear the weight of the air-ship?” asked Frank.

“Surely, mate! Come down.”

“All right!”

Frank let the air-ship descend and rest upon the roof of the building. Then he sprang down and shook hands with the captain.

Nicodemus was delighted.

He was all equipped for the trip.

But his personal appearance was startling as well as amusing in the extreme.

The old captain had got himself up in the style of the privateer captain of forty or fifty years previous. He wore fancy high boots, clinging cutlass, pistols in belt, a velvet blouse and pea-jacket.

He looked as if equipped for a privateering or piratical cruise, and Frank could not help a smile.

“You look as if you expected trouble,” he exclaimed. “Why have you armed yourself?”

“Hang me high!” cried the captain, fiercely; “are we not going into a land full of sharks and cuttlefish? Keep your eye on your outfit, lad. We will need a little powder and ball and cold steel before we get home.”

“Well,” said Frank, “you may be right; but I never employ arms until the necessary time comes. You are taking time by the forelock.”

“Which is correct, skipper. I once knew a fair ship to become overrun with pirates out in the Maldives, just because the skipper would not carry powder for fear of blowing up the ship. He had an aversion to the smell.”

Frank could not but laugh.

“Well,” he agreed, “you may be right. However, this air-ship is an adjunct of Liberty Hall, so that you are all right. Keep your eye out for sharks.”

“Depend on it, skipper. But will we wait long at this port?”

“Not another moment,” declared Frank; “let us be off at once.”

He made a motion to Barney and the air-ship left the roof. As it soared aloft, the streets below were seen to be crowded with curious people craning their necks.

Soon the Spectre was sailing over the jetties and the delta of the Mississippi, and beyond were seen the waters of the Gulf.

Captain Nicodemus walked the deck of the air-ship, completely in his element.

He sniffed the air and leveled his long glass at the distant horizon.

“This beats ocean navigation all to pieces,” he declared. “There’s nothing like an air-ship.”

“Then you like it better than the sea?” asked Frank.

“Why not, skipper? In the first place, you can sail faster. You are surer of making port on time. There’s no sails to furl or set. It’s handsome sailing, and no care for the wind.”

Frank saw the old captain’s logic, and was inclined to agree with him.

“You are right, captain,” he said. “Aerial navigation beats all else. But looking into the future, what shall we make a bee line for when we get across this gulf?”

“For the Andes of Peru, then follow on down their eastern slope. I think by so doing we shall come to the mysterious country.”

“Very good. But how will you identify the Transient Lake if the water is all out of it?”

“Trust me for that, skipper, I could never fail to locate it. I hope the water is out of it?”

“Why?”

“We could then easily follow the basin’s course and find the gold.”

“I can see. Well, keep a sharp outlook when we reach the Andes. I shall strike across the Caribbean Sea for the mountains of Peru.”

“Good! I feel sure of success!”

The air-ship swept on southward. In due time the coast of Cuba hove into view.

Upon its western end was Cape San Antonio. Frank passed directly over this and entered upon the Caribbean Sea.

It was evident now that they were well into the tropics. The air was balmy and the sea limpid and still.

When the coast of Colombia came into view the exciting period seemed to have been reached. Beyond all knew that the land of wild adventure lay.

On sailed the Spectre.

Over the coast it passed and into the interior of Colombia. The scenery was grand, and of the typical sort peculiar to South America.

And still the Spectre kept on until great dreamy-looking peaks rose from the western horizon.

“The Andes!”

All crowded to the rail, and with thrilling veins regarded the range of wonderful mountains, in fact, the most wonderful in the world.

The Andes of Peru upon the eastern slope are peculiarly rough and picturesque.

It was in these mighty fastnesses that the ancient Incas had built their temples and held their own in battle with the lawless Spaniard, until their wealth, their glory and their prestige was forever lost to them.

Mighty Sarata with its altitude of 21,286 feet, gigantic Illimani with its 21,000 feet, the great volcano of Guallatieri with 22,000 feet, Titicaca, Vilcanata, Misti and all the monarchs of that awful aggregation of peaks, than which the world has no superior, were all about the air-ship.

Gliding from one fleecy cloud to another, the jagged heights in their solemn grandeur were visible only at intervals. Captain Beere could hardly contain himself.

“By the horn spoon!” he cried. “When you can find anything to equal this, I’ll like to know where it can be. Is it not powerful, mates?”

“Indeed it is!” replied Frank.

All of the voyagers wore a face mask, an invention of Frank Reade, Jr.’s, for use in high altitudes to prevent bleeding of the respiratory organs or faintness. It was impregnated with a chemical, which, placed in a light porous sponge at the nostrils, was a sure remedy.

So that they were enabled to travel with impunity in that high atmosphere.

“I have heard great reports of the malady encountered in the high Andes, known as the mountain sickness,” said Nicodemus; “it don’t seem to trouble us as yet, Frank.”

“That is easily understood,” said the young inventor; “we are in the air, and consequently do not feel the pressure as we would if we stood on the mountain summit or terra firma. The buoyancy of the air-ship overcomes that peculiar pressure which causes the so-called mountain sickness.”

The air-ship sailed on slowly among the great peaks. It was a wonderful spectacle.

But the aerial voyagers soon tired of it, and Frank finally asked:

“What do you think, Nicodemus? Is the mysterious country south of us?”

“I think so, skipper,” replied the captain. “We kept a pretty straight line eastward to the head waters of the Paraguay River; we ought to find the Transient Lake somewhere south of us.”

“We will keep on then in that direction,” said Frank. “Heigho! What is that?”

The air-ship gave a sudden mad plunge forward. There was a terrific explosion in the distance like the boom of a hundred great guns.

It was the wave of air coming from that direction which had given the motion to the Spectre. But this was not all.

From a cloud just above the air-ship blazing balls of fire suddenly shot downward.

A tremendous crash ensued on the air-ship’s deck, and she reeled and shot downward.