“Well, we’re not going to miss them!”
It was, as Linda said, one of the most difficult parts of the flight, to locate those tiny dots of islands in the vast expanse of ocean. But Linda was a good navigator, and she made her calculations correctly. They were, she discovered, only about fifty miles off their course—an error which was easily remedied, since their gas supply was adequate.
“A hundred miles more!” she announced, when she finally resumed control. “Now we can watch for the sea-gulls!”
Nearer and nearer to their destination they came. Now Dot spied some fishing craft with her glasses, and that fact told her that the shore must be near. Her excitement was so intense that she could hardly sit still. The end of her first ocean flight! Her first landing from over the water!
“We’re coming!” she shouted, in wild exultation.
Linda was almost equally thrilled, although her pulse was calmer. It had been less terrifying, less difficult, less nerve-racking than the solitary, long flight over the Atlantic. But she was nevertheless excited.
Now the cliffs rose from the ocean, and the waves broke against the shore, showing their white-caps. And, as if to stage a dramatic arrival, the sun rose in all its glory, shedding its beams over the land and water.
The green island of Molokai was beneath them!
But this was not their destination, and Linda pressed on.
“Aren’t you going to land?” cried Dot, in disappointment.