No, sir--we've got to take
our chances. If we get back safe--all right. If we don't, why,
we're not the first explorers to get lost in the shuffle. There are
plenty to come after us."
So we got the big biplane together and loaded it with our
scientifically compressed baggage: the camera, of course; the
glasses; a supply of concentrated food. Our pockets were
magazines of small necessities, and we had our guns, of course--
there was no knowing what might happen.
Up and up and up we sailed, way up at first, to get "the lay
of the land" and make note of it.
Out of that dark green sea of crowding forest this high-
standing spur rose steeply. It ran back on either side, apparently,
to the far-off white-crowned peaks in the distance, themselves
probably inaccessible.
"Let's make the first trip geographical," I suggested.
"Spy out the land, and drop back here for more gasoline.
With your tremendous speed we can reach that range and
back all right.
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