"Glory be!" he shouted.
Frank and Harry crowded to his side and looked up.
"It is the Nelson!" Harry exclaimed.
"You bet it is!" Frank admitted.
"Good old Ned!" Jack roared.
The aeroplane was only a few yards above the Black Bear. Already the natives were slinking away in their canoes. Those on the banks were slowly withdrawing into the shelter of the forests.
"They're running away!" Jack cried. "Now we'll have some fun with good old Ned Nestor!"
For a moment it looked as if the statement was correct; as if the natives, alarmed at the sight of the aeroplane would disappear from sight without a fight. But this supposition was soon disproved.
As the Nelson came nearer, a dozen bullets from the forests struck her planes. The boys, in the boat raised the panel and shouted to the aviator to look out for poisoned arrows.
Then the aeroplane shot up again. They could see that there was only one person on the machine, and that he was busy arranging something which looked like a stick of dynamite which he held in his hands.