With a stately gesture the chief signified that negotiations were at an end as soon as the pipe-smoking had been concluded. He examined the framework of the Golden Eagle II with much interest.
“Huh-man-bird,” was his comment, “canoe better. Not so far to fall.”
There still remained one bit of business to be done and both Frank and Harry anticipated some little trouble over it—this was the retention of Quatty as their guide to the ’glade islet on which the abductors had set up their plant. The chief consented to his being retained, but Quatty himself was more doubtful. The promise of a canoe, however, as well as a good round sum of money decided him. He would go. But he wanted to know how the boys meant to get into the interior of the ’glades. From where they were at the moment it would take many days of threading intricate water lanes, he explained, to arrive at their destination.
With a half smile at the explosion he knew was about due Frank replied:
“Yes, but we don’t mean to go by canoe. We shall travel by air.”
The negro turned an actual gray with perturbation.
“No, sah,” he exclaimed, “no, sah. Yo won’ go froo no air wid me. Ah’m too fond of mah life to go skeedaddlin’ round in de clouds in dat contraption.”
All the persuasions the boys could think of were of no avail. Quatty obstinately refused to reconsider his determination not to go up in the air-ship. Finally a happy thought struck Frank.
“Get one of the rifles,” he whispered to Harry.
The boy hastened into the hut and reappeared with a fine automatic. His own in fact.