“More like onions,” Pat observed.
The boys crouched about the fire for some moments longer and then Jimmie arose and began to climb the wall of the cup to the west.
“I’m goin’ to see about this,” he said.
Frank laid a hand on his arm.
“You wait a minute,” he said. “You can’t climb that slope in less than half an hour, and Ned will be here before that. Look! He’s coming now, like the wind!”
The aeroplane, high up in the hazy sky, was indeed making good progress toward the little cup in the mountain side. While the boys looked they saw it shift away to the west, whirl back to the east, dart off to the north and back again.
“He’s huntin’ for us,” Jimmie said.
“He’s investigating!” Frank cut in.
“Investigating what?” Pat demanded. “He’s smelling of this steak à la brigand and is hunting for it. Let be. He’ll find us.”
The sky was growing more uncertain every minute, and puffs of smoke were seen out in the west, over the rim of the cup.