“Can you identify an aeroplane at that distance in the night-time?” asked Sam. “I’m sure I couldn’t do anything of the kind!”
“I don’t know as I can express it,” Jimmie replied, “but to me every flying machine has a method and manner of its own. There is something in the way an aeroplane carries itself in the sky which reminds me somewhat of the manner of a man in walking. In the case of the man, you know who it is long before you can see his face, and in the case of the flying machine, you know her long before the details of construction are in view. I’m sure that is the Bertha!”
“It is the Bertha, all right!” Carl cut in. “And she isn’t being handled by one of our boys, either!”
“It isn’t possible, is it, that that fellow Doran found the nerve to chase us up?” asked Jimmie. “If he did, he’s a poor aviator, all right!”
“It’s a wonder to me he doesn’t tip the machine over,” Sam suggested.
“He may tip it over yet!” exclaimed Carl. “Just see, how it sways and sags every time it comes to one of the little currents of air sweeping out of the gorges. I anticipate a quick tumble there!”
“That’s a nice thing,” exclaimed Jimmie, “for some one to steal the machine and break it up! If the Bertha goes to pieces now, we’ll have to delay our trip until another aeroplane can be bought, and the chances are that we can never buy one as reliable as the Bertha.”
“She isn’t smashed yet!” grinned the tramp. “She’s headed straight for the camp now, and may get here safely. The aviator seems to understand how to control the levers, but he doesn’t know how to meet air currents. If he had known the country well enough, he might have followed an almost direct river level to this point.”
“We didn’t know enough to do that!” Carl exclaimed. “We came over mountains, gorges, and all kinds of dangerous precipices.”
“That was unnecessary,” laughed the tramp, still keeping his eyes fixed on the slowly-approaching flying machine. “The south branch of the Esmeraldas river rises in the volcano country somewhere south of Quito. The east branch of the same river rises something like a hundred miles east and north of Quito. These two branches meet down there in front of the camp. You can almost see the junction from here.”