“The Andes!” cried Joe joyfully. “At last we’ve seen the Andes Mountains!”
“I believe you’re right,” affirmed Mr. Wallace, straining his eyes to make out more clearly the series of distant bumps that were mountains.
As the explorers flew nearer, they could easily observe the high peaks and narrow valleys. At one time they flew directly over a short range of exceedingly lofty mountains.
The monoplane passed farther, and the towering slopes of the Andes became more prominent. They looked dark and forbidding, yet beautiful and romantic.
“It’s going to be dark before long,” said Karl, breaking the fascinating silence. “And as it isn’t wise to keep going over unknown territory, I’m going to land—if I can find a place.”
Picking out a level spot was very difficult, but finally Karl caught sight of a flat plateau stretching several hundred yards ahead. He brought the machine down as best he could, taking into consideration the difficulty of landing at high altitudes.
They did not pitch the tent that night, but curled up inside the cabin, too tired to use much more energy. By doing this they could lock the doors and spend the night in comparative safety. Otherwise, it would have been necessary to set a guard.
A heavy slumber overtook them and held them firmly until late next morning.
“Now to head for Ecuador,” said Joe, becoming impatient. “How long will it take us—to get to Quito, I mean?” he asked Karl.
“Let’s see. We’ve been about an hour out of Cartagena.” Karl pondered for a minute. “There’ll be about six more hours of air traveling before we get there. That is, if nothing happens.”