“Mebbe it’s jest as well I didn’t have to riddle the old jay,” Perk told himself as he resumed his seat and his glasses. “May be a buccaneer, like some folks say, but he’s got good grit and won’t take a dare from even a Zeppelin, should one come sailin’ along in his happy huntin’ grounds.”
The morning was wearing away with the amphibian keeping up its merry pace and the country showing no signs of betterment. Civilization was a million miles distant, one would imagine, when looking down on those amazing masses of rocky peaks over which they were winging their way. Judging from what they saw hour after hour, Jack could well believe that changes there had been only to a small degree since Columbus first sighted these shores hundreds of years back. Indeed, for thousands upon thousands of years those giant fingers of rock had been pointing to the blue sky above, just as they saw them now.
They ate some food about noon, washing it down with a few gulps of water they carried in a jug. Strange that even Perk had not remarked upon being hungry, which was such a remarkable thing for him that Jack concluded his mind for once had been taken off the subject of eating and was fully occupied with the strange mission upon which they were engaged.
Several times Jack asked the observer whether he could make out any signs of a river bed ahead and seemed surprised and a bit disappointed when Perk replied in the negative.
“Unless I’m away off my base,” Jack finally told his companion, “we ought to be somewhere in the vicinity of the Colorado and the enormous canyon through which it makes its way down to the Gulf of California.”
Perk displayed a sudden fresh interest in matters.
“I swan, partner,” he remarked in considerable agitation, “does that ’ere mean we might set eyes on that monster hole in the ground I’ve read so much about? Are we close to the Colorado River where she runs ’long through the Rainbow gorge and the towerin’ cliffs rear their red, blue, green and yeller walls hundreds o’ feet high on both sides?”
“You said it Perk. Chances are we’ll set eyes on that big hole in the ground they call the Colorado Canyon before we strike another night.”
“Je-ru-salem crickets buddy! That sounds good to me!” exulted Perk, visibly stirred by the thrilling information. “Allers did sorter hanker ’bout lampin’ that pictur’, an’ it’ll please me plenty if dreams do come true.”
This kept him quiet for some time, though he worked his glasses with a fresher zeal as though bent on missing nothing that seemed worth looking at. But thus far not the slightest object had been sighted that might turn out to be of special interest to any one looking for a smashed plane.