“I see where I’d like to have that blamed old plane,” exclaimed Rawlins, who had arrived in time to hear the explorer’s remarks. “If they see us coming, there won’t be much chance of catching them. A plane’s the thing for this country.”
“Leave that to the Indians,” chuckled Mr. Thorne, “When we locate the plane the rest will be easy--that is, if we can overcome the Bucks’ superstitions enough to get them to touch the plane.”
“By glory, that’s a good idea!” declared the diver. “If they see Indians they won’t be suspicious and they’ll never know we’re near until we march in and say ‘hands up.’”
“They won’t see the Indians,” said Mr. Thorne decisively. “You don’t know the Guiana red man, Mr. Rawlins. A shadow is a noisy and tangible thing compared with him.”
“Oh, look, there’s a ship!” cried Tom, pointing ahead to where the masts of a large vessel showed above the trees.
“Yes, she’s off Wisniar--loading greenheart, I expect,” assented the explorer. “We’re almost at the end of our steamer trip.”
“But how did a big ship get up here?” inquired Frank.
“Ocean liners can come up here,” replied Mr. Thorne. “The river is deep and it’s not unusual to see several big tramps up here loading greenheart or even farther up at Akyma loading bauxite--aluminum ore, that is. An American company is developing a large mine there.”
“Oh, there’s the town!” cried Tom.
A few moments later, the steamer was being moored to a rickety wharf before the little settlement and the boys were surprised to see a diminutive locomotive and a train of toylike cars standing on a track near the landing.