They had come down to three thousand feet when it became evident that only rough ridges lay beneath them. No landing-place here, certainly. They could only hang on as long as possible in the hope the ridges would give way to level ground. Bruce thanked their luck for the wide-spreading wings which would impede their fall.
A moment later he groaned, for just ahead of them he saw a rocky ridge higher than any they had passed over. Here then was the end, he thought. But the tricky moonlight had deceived him. They cleared those rocks by a hundred feet and just beyond Bruce gasped and looked again.
"A miracle!" murmured Barney.
"Or a mirage," whispered Bruce.
Before them lay a square of level land, green,—in the moonlight. All about the square the land was black with trees, but there was a landing place. It was as if their trip had been long planned, their coming anticipated, and that a level field was cleared for them.
It was only a matter of moments till they were bumping along over the ground. Soon they were standing free from their harnesses and silently shaking hands.
Barney was the first to speak.
"Say, do you know," he said, "we're in somebody's wheat-field!"
"Impossible!" exclaimed the Major.
"See for yourself," The boy held before their astonished eyes a handful of almost ripened heads of wheat.