“Some of these little Mexican places may not have been informed,” observed Linda. “If they didn’t speak English—or didn’t have a radio.”
On and on they flew, over this hot, deserted land, so uncultivated and barren. The sun sank and twilight came on—and still no sign of a town or an airport where the girls might land.
“I’m afraid I’m lost,” Linda admitted to Dot, when it became too dim to distinguish the ground even with the aid of glasses. “I’ll have to fly lower, and look for a landing. I think remember a place a couple of miles back.”
She circled about and began flying in the opposite direction, cautiously gliding a little nearer to the ground.
“Do you mind sleeping out tonight, Dot?” she inquired.
Her companion made a face. She had read enough about Mexican bandits not to relish the prospect.
“I suppose we’ll have to,” she said. “Anyway, we have plenty of food.”
Darkness was coming on fast; there was nothing to do but take a chance at landing. Beyond them stretched great black mountains, deep and forbidding, inhabited, they felt sure, by all sorts of wild animals. These must be avoided at any cost; so Linda went back to the spot she had selected and prepared to make a dangerous landing. How thankful she was that she had had plenty of experience in spot landings!
Keeping the plane still high enough to maintain the glide to the spot, she combined maneuvers to accomplish her purpose. From a glide, she went into a side-slip until she lost altitude, then, as she approached the landing-mark, she gradually reduced speed with the forward slip, straightening out just as she reached the ground. And landed on the exact spot she had selected!
“Good work, Linda!” cried Dot, admiringly.