"That's because of the contrast. I'll drop still lower, so we'll just clear the top of the forest. Then you won't need the glasses, Andy. Both of us must keep a clever lookout for a chance. Every now and then there happens to be some opening in the forest, you know."
"Don't I hope we find one, though," declared the other. "Oh, wouldn't it be too mean for anything, Frank, if we smashed the precious little machine just when we are at the last stage of our big undertaking? If I lived through it I'd be broken hearted sure."
"Look, then," said Frank, earnestly, "and you take the right, while I keep an eye on the left. Both of us can watch out ahead. If it comes at all to be of any use, it's got to be found inside of the next five minutes!"
"So soon as that?" echoed the other, in distressed tones. "Oh, I'm afraid we're in for the very worst experience we ever met up with."
"Ha! hold on, Andy. What's that dead ahead?" cried Frank, who suddenly decreased the speed of the little motor.
"It's an opening of some sort, though awful little!" ejaculated
Andy. "We can never do it, I'm afraid, Frank."
"We've just got to, no matter what chances we take. Hold hard now and if you can jump out in time, help stop her before we wreck her against a tree."
Even while speaking the air pilot was starting to drop down. He had made a specialty of this part of the business, knowing how very important it must always be to aviators. The rise was nothing compared to the descent, for many a gallant aircraft has been injured or even wrecked by clumsy manipulation, want of room or some other cause while landing after a flight.
Andy gripped hold of an upright. He tried to see down into that little slash in the great forest, as though it might hold every hope connected with his fortunes and the success or failure of his mission of mercy.
"Oh, be careful, Frank!" he called, as they just barely missed the top of a great tree.