“Now, if you have satisfied the curiosity of these young sleuths,” Clay remarked, “perhaps they will permit you to tell us about Cloud island, and what reward is sought there.”
From far up the shining surface of the river, its sound somewhat deadened by the intervening island, came the report of a gun. In a minute there came a second shot.
“The Señorita doesn’t like to be hugged by the launch!” smiled Case.
“It is a case of war there!” Frank observed. “I’m glad I have two parties opposed to me instead of one! They enjoy fighting each other, it seems!”
“Every time you get ready to tell us about Cloud island,” Clay laughed, “there is an interruption. Let them fight it out, if they will, and you go on with the story of that wonderful place.”
Another reverberation came down the river, and then silence. There was no more shooting at that time.
“Nearly a thousand miles from here, as the river runs,” Frank began, “the Amazon turns south and follows a valley running along between two giant ridges of the Andes. Three or four hundred miles from the point where it changes its course, it finds its source in a small mountain lake. This lake is not much more more than one hundred miles from Lima, the capital of Peru.”
“The Amazon draws water almost from the Pacific!” Jule interrupted.
“Yes, it comes very near crossing the continent of South America,” Frank went on. “Well, about half way between the source and the point I have mentioned lies Cloud island, not in the center of the river, but so setting over to a rocky shore that the channel between the rocks and the island is very narrow at low water.”
“Low water?” asked Alex. “What makes high and low water away up in the Andes?”