THE MOONSHINERS AND THE AËROPLANE.
"This is a beautiful country, sis."
"Yes, indeed," agreed Peggy warmly.
The two were flying high above the romantic scenery of the Big Smoke Mountains of North Carolina in the Golden Butterfly. Beneath them lay a wild-looking expanse of country,—peaks, deep cañons and cliffs heavily wooded and here and there bare patches cropping out.
"Let's drop down on one of those patches and do some exploring," suggested Peggy.
"All right," agreed Roy, nothing loath. The Golden Butterfly was headed downward.
In a few minutes they landed on a smooth spot surrounded by trees. Leaving the aëroplane, they struck off on a path through the woods. "Wonder if we can't find some huckleberries hereabouts," suggested Roy.
"Oh, yes, lots. Wouldn't it be dandy to take home a bucketful by aëroplane!"
"There's a little hut off yonder, maybe we could get a bucket or something there."
"Let's see if there are any berries first," said the practical Peggy.