"We're keeping well ahead of the biplane," he observed, "and there's little danger of their overtaking us. But in case they drop out of the race we must try and know something of the chances for a landing ourselves."

"Gee! it looks pretty punk down there!" admitted Andy, after he had carefully turned the gla.s.ses forward and down.

"That's what is bothering me," Frank said. "We've sure got to drop, sooner or later, because it would be utterly impossible for us to keep afloat all night. And if there happens to be no opening in that dense forest, how can we land?"

"Listen! as sure as you live they're trying to wing us with a shot!"

cried Andy.

"Well, I wouldn't bother about that. The fellow only has a revolver, if I know the sound of one, and he could never reach us at this distance. It tells me that he's got to about the limit and that something is going to change pretty soon, mark my words, Andy."

Of course one of Frank's objects in saying this was to encourage his chum, for he knew that in all probability Andy was getting pretty close to what he himself would call a "blue funk."

Sure enough the reports continued until just six had reached their ears faintly.

"That ends it," observed Frank, complacently.

"And he never touched us," echoed his cousin, evidently with more or less relief.

"Now take a look back and see what they are doing, Andy."

"H'm! still coming right along at top-notch speed," replied the other.

"All right. There's going to be a change soon. Look down, Andy."

"Oh, Frank, what a dandy open s.p.a.ce! If only that plagued biplane was in Guinea, how easy we could spiral down and make a landing there!"

"Yes!" said Frank, "And, mark me, that is just what they intend doing. As for us, we'll have to move along further into the wilderness and hope that another chance will come to let us out before everything is blotted from sight by utter darkness."

"Frank, they've just sighted the open spot!" cried Andy, a few seconds later.

"All right, what did I say?" demanded his cousin.

"They've given up the chase, sure!"

"And are about to drop down to make a landing for the night; is that so?" asked Frank, eagerly, for their own chances were getting poorer with every pa.s.sing minute and secretly he was more worried than he chose to admit.

"Just what they're doing right now, beginning to spiral down. Puss and his old biplane weren't in it again with our dandy little Bug. There they go, Frank. Don't I wish we had as good a place to grab hold of the old earth!"

"Well," Frank continued, gravely, "turn around and look your prettiest for it, then. Don't let even a half way decent spot go by. Any port in a storm, the sailor says, and that ought to apply to the airship tar just as well. See anything yet, Chum Andy?"

"N-no, can't say that I do," came the reply, as the other eagerly bent his gaze on the tree tops that they were beginning to approach closer, for Frank had turned the lever of the deflecting rudder in order to start the monoplane earthward.

And the more they dropped the lower the sun seemed to get, until part of his glowing disc appeared to touch the horizon.

Already it was growing dusk below them, and the dense foliage of the interlocked branches of the trees seemed to offer an insuperable barrier to a successful landing.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE CAMP IN THE TROPICAL JUNGLE.

"Frank, this is tough luck!" Andy exclaimed, presently.

"Keep up your spirits, old fellow!" called out the other, cheerily. "Has the biplane succeeded in making a landing yet?"

"I guess so," replied Andy, moodily. "Can't see any sign of her back there. And besides, it's actually getting dark down below, even while we can see a bit of the sun up here."

"That's because of the contrast. I'll drop still lower, so we'll just clear the top of the forest. Then you won't need the gla.s.ses, Andy.

Both of us must keep a clever lookout for a chance. Every now and then there happens to be some opening in the forest, you know."

"Don't I hope we find one, though," declared the other. "Oh, wouldn't it be too mean for anything, Frank, if we smashed the precious little machine just when we are at the last stage of our big undertaking? If I lived through it I'd be broken hearted sure."

"Look, then," said Frank, earnestly, "and you take the right, while I keep an eye on the left. Both of us can watch out ahead. If it comes at all to be of any use, it's got to be found inside of the next five minutes!"

"So soon as that?" echoed the other, in distressed tones. "Oh, I'm afraid we're in for the very worst experience we ever met up with."

"Ha! hold on, Andy. What's that dead ahead?" cried Frank, who suddenly decreased the speed of the little motor.

"It's an opening of some sort, though awful little!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Andy. "We can never do it, I'm afraid, Frank."

"We've just got to, no matter what chances we take. Hold hard now and if you can jump out in time, help stop her before we wreck her against a tree."

Even while speaking the air pilot was starting to drop down. He had made a specialty of this part of the business, knowing how very important it must always be to aviators. The rise was nothing compared to the descent, for many a gallant aircraft has been injured or even wrecked by clumsy manipulation, want of room or some other cause while landing after a flight.

Andy gripped hold of an upright. He tried to see down into that little slash in the great forest, as though it might hold every hope connected with his fortunes and the success or failure of his mission of mercy.

"Oh, be careful, Frank!" he called, as they just barely missed the top of a great tree.

There was no need of saying this, as Andy ought to have known. No one could possibly be more careful than Frank Bird. And yet this was one of those times when daring had to go hand in hand with caution. The s.p.a.ce in which they meant to try for a landing was so very small that it seemed necessary for the aeroplane to come down almost as lightly as a feather.

Fortunately the youthful pilot possessed a good pair of eyes. And the gloom had not as yet entirely blotted out all features of the landscape, now that they were so close to the earth.

Andy was holding himself in readiness. He knew that there would perhaps be an opportunity for him to drop to the ground and by pulling back, help to bring the little airship to a full stop before they banged up against a tree at the further side of the little glade.

Never before had Andy found himself compelled to do such a queer "stunt," as he afterwards termed it; but he was braced to exert himself now to the best of his ability.

"Jump!" shouted Frank, as they came roughly in contact with the ground.

And Andy went. He never knew whether he jumped purposely or lost his grip of that upright after the shock of the collision; but the next thing he realized he was straining himself with might and main to hold back the monoplane, already gliding along with sundry violent b.u.mps, on the three bicycle wheels.

"Hurrah! What did I say?" cried Frank, as the aeroplane came to a complete standstill close to the other border of trees.

There was a frightened series of grunts close by and some big unwieldy animal went rushing away through the dense undergrowth, crashing along as though badly frightened at this queer thing that had dropped down from the sky.

"Wow! whatever was that, do you know, Frank?" cried the one on the ground.