After quite a long flight, during which the machines soared around cliffs and slid into valleys and gorges, the boys found a green valley watered by the Esmeraldas river. Here they dropped down, and the shelter-tents were soon ready for occupancy.
“I suppose,” Carl grumbled as provisions were taken from the flying machines and brought to the vicinity of the fire, “that we’ll have to fight thousands of kinds of crawling and creeping things before morning!”
“Well,” Jimmie laughed, “you wouldn’t stay up there where the flying and creeping things don’t live!”
“My private opinion,” declared Glenn, “is that we ought to spend most of our time in the air! I wish we could sleep on the machines!”
“Where are we going, anyhow?” demanded Jimmie.
“We’re going to follow the backbone of the South American continent clear to Cape Horn!” replied Ben. “That is, if our flying machines and our tempers hold out!”
“I have an idea,” Glenn said, “that we’ll spend most of the time in Peru, which is probably the oldest country in the world so far as civilization is concerned.”
“That’s another dream!” exclaimed Carl.
“Look here,” Glenn exclaimed, “there are still temples and palaces in Peru which date back beyond the remotest reach of tradition. The earliest Incas believed that many of the fortresses, castles and temples which they found there were formed by the gods when the world was made.”
“That’s going back a long ways!” laughed Jimmie.