It was guesswork as to when the Professor would come back. He might make a brief circuit in the sky beyond and return in a few minutes to his workshop, or be out of sight for hours. It might occur to him that it was wise to eat breakfast and to get food for his dusky assistant. Be all this as it may, Harvey decided to act at once, since nothing was to be gained otherwise.
He ran across the open to his machine, pulled it clear of the undergrowth and limbs, pointed it toward the western limit of the clearing, spun the propeller round, and sprang into his accustomed seat in time to direct the fast rising speed. He had a good supply of fuel and the biplane worked smoothly. Swerving to the north, he “put on steam” and was off.
His plan was to spin ahead until he reached the base of the ridge, or perhaps passed a part of the way up its side. He would be on the watch for a good landing place, hide the aeroplane as before, and then press his investigations on foot.
Before he had gone half the distance, he abandoned the plan of flying part way up the ridge. A dread of the Professor’s return grew, and his eyes began roaming over the surface in quest of a safe place to descend. He regretted having come thus far, and resolved to take the first chance that offered. It appeared on a slight swell near the base of the ridge, but somewhat to the right of the course he was following. It was not the spot he would have selected had he not been pressed for time, but such as it was he had to accept it and he believed it would answer.
He was not in a settled section, though one of the villages could not have been more than two miles to the eastward. The ground upon which he rested his hopes could not have contained more than a couple of acres and the upper end was shut in by a lot of boulders which threatened to play havoc with his machine. Both on the left and right, however, were undergrowth and stunted pines that promised to be a good hiding place for the aeroplane. Accordingly, he dropped as low as was safe, shut off his motor and dipped to the rough ground. He landed with a bump that came near unseating him, and would have shattered his front rudder against the boulders had he not managed to veer his course so as to avoid them in time.
“I don’t fancy this business,” he muttered, as he stepped to the ground and looked the machine over; “the folks at Garden City know how to construct these things, for this one has stood a good deal of jarring without harm so far as I can see.”
It was a work of considerable difficulty to work the biplane among the trees where it was not likely to be seen by any one passing overhead, though in plain sight of a person on the ground. Some five or six hundred feet had to be climbed to reach the summit. The surface was of the roughest character, his way leading around piles of stone, through thick woods, which fortunately were not cluttered with undergrowth, across deep gullies, and so steep in some places that it was trying even to a professional guide or hunter.
Standing thus and debating the situation, Harvey caught the murmur of the waterfall on his right. He recalled that it was near, and would have paid it a visit had not more important matters demanded attention.