"Just what they're doing right now, beginning to spiral down. Puss and his old biplane weren't in it again with our dandy little Bug. There they go, Frank. Don't I wish we had as good a place to grab hold of the old earth!"
"Well," Frank continued, gravely, "turn around and look your prettiest for it, then. Don't let even a half way decent spot go by. Any port in a storm, the sailor says, and that ought to apply to the airship tar just as well. See anything yet, Chum Andy?"
"N-no, can't say that I do," came the reply, as the other eagerly bent his gaze on the tree tops that they were beginning to approach closer, for Frank had turned the lever of the deflecting rudder in order to start the monoplane earthward.
And the more they dropped the lower the sun seemed to get, until part of his glowing disc appeared to touch the horizon.
Already it was growing dusk below them, and the dense foliage of the interlocked branches of the trees seemed to offer an insuperable barrier to a successful landing.
CHAPTER XVII.
THE CAMP IN THE TROPICAL JUNGLE.
"Frank, this is tough luck!" Andy exclaimed, presently.
"Keep up your spirits, old fellow!" called out the other, cheerily. "Has the biplane succeeded in making a landing yet?"
"I guess so," replied Andy, moodily. "Can't see any sign of her back there. And besides, it's actually getting dark down below, even while we can see a bit of the sun up here."