“Um!” remarked Dick; “that does not sound altogether promising, eh, Phil? Seems to indicate that there may possibly be difficulties put in the way of our penetrating the country, doesn’t it? What did you say to the ’mfana Mafuta?”
“I said,” answered Mafuta, “that the two white men, my chiefs, had come from afar across the Great Water to visit Lobelalatutu, the King of the great Makolo nation, to offer presents, and to request his permission to examine the ruins of the great city of which they had heard.”
“Yes, of course; I suppose that was the correct diplomatic way in which to put the matter,” remarked Dick. “And what said Matemba in reply?”
“He said,” answered Mafuta, “that doubtless the king, remembering the commands laid upon him by the Spirits of the Winds, upon the occasion of their last visit to the country in their great glittering ship which flies through the air, would gladly permit my chiefs to visit the ruins, even as the Spirits themselves had done.”
“Ah!” exclaimed Dick; “that sounds better. But,”—turning to Grosvenor—“I wonder what the fellow means by the ‘glittering ship which flies through the air’—and the ‘Spirits of the Winds’? Can it be possible that an airship has ever penetrated so far as this? Stop a minute—let me think. ‘Spirits of the Winds—glittering ship which flies’—by Jove! can it be possible? I thought, when I heard the expression ‘Spirits of the Winds’ that it sounded not altogether unfamiliar, that I had met with it before, in fact; and now that I come to overhaul my memory I very distinctly remember reading a yarn describing the adventures of some people who possessed a wonderful airship in which they made the most extraordinary voyages and met with some astounding experiences—”
“Yes,” interrupted Grosvenor; “I know the book you mean. I, too, read it. But I took it to be fiction, pure and simple; a somewhat daring flight of a novelist’s imagination. And now that you have reminded me of the yarn I distinctly remember that the four fellows in the story were described as having visited these same ruins of Ophir that we are hunting for—”
“Yes,” cut in Dick, “that is so. And, if I remember aright, they met with some rather exciting adventures among these Makolo, didn’t they?”
“Rather!” assented Grosvenor. “Were taken prisoners, or something of that sort, and only escaped by the skin of their teeth.”
“That’s it,” agreed Dick. “Yes; the man who was then king wanted to steal their airship, didn’t he?”
“He did—and got banished for his pains,” answered Grosvenor. “But that was not the end of the story. He—the king, I mean—returned from his banishment, killed the king who was reigning in his stead, and—yes, was found practising his old dodges of cruelty and murder when the ‘Spirits’ paid a second visit to his country.”