“I believe you’re right,” came from his father. “It——”
“Announcing our arrival at the great continent of South America!” Karl’s voice, coming loudly through the telephone, broke off with a laugh.
As they came nearer, the aviator guided the machine to a lower altitude, although still high enough to see many miles in every direction.
But it was a long while before they could make out plainly the details of the coast. Fog made it necessary to fly very near in order to see anything distinctly.
“I believe I can make out the Andes,” said Joe, gazing out at the distant horizon.
“Don’t be sure,” laughed Mr. Wallace. “Those mountains are a long way off.”
Before long they had passed the coast and headed over the land, almost directly above the Magdalena River, whose course they could easily make out.
For the most part, the country they were flying over was rugged and uncultivated, but there were occasional towns and villages that dotted the valleys and clearings.
“Bogotá is the first large city we’ll see,” announced Karl. “We ought to get there by tomorrow noon.”