Densely wooded foot-hills were soon directly beneath them. Now, having risen far above the crests of the nearer mountains, they were able to look upon a scene of unparalleled grandeur. Innumerable crags and peaks, enveloped in the soft sheen of the moon, stretched far off toward the horizon, glittering in light, or steely gray in shadow.
The boys gazed into the dizzy depths below with a feeling of awe. Here, they saw a cascade, tumbling from ledge to ledge; there, an inaccessible canyon, through whose gloomy depths dashed a foaming torrent. In the mysterious light, nature appeared but a ghostly echo of herself.
The towering pinnacle of old Eagles’ Peak loomed up nearer; the snowy surface began to reveal its bald, rugged forms, its precipitous slopes and glittering rocks.
But even the wonderful panorama and the thrills of flying at a tremendous speed could not relieve the intense feeling of anxiety which the aviator and his companion experienced. Their eyes continually roved over the landscape for any signs of the “Border City.”
“We’re likely to learn something mighty soon,” murmured Bob. “Whew, but it’s getting cold.”
An icy feeling was in the air; the wind rushing steadily past carried with it an unpleasant sting.
Ten minutes later, as the “Ogden II” began to skirt around old Eagles’ Peak, the boys’ hearts fairly leaped with excitement and hope.
The bright sparkle of a fire on a jutting ledge had sprung into view; then disappeared, as objects passed between; then gleamed once more.
The boys saw something else, too. An exultant yell came from Cranny’s lips. There was no mistaking that huge, cigar-shaped form which seemed to be resting across the tops of a dense mass of pines. The rounded surface of the “Border City” glimmered with light, or lost its outlines in the surrounding shadows.
“It looks like some huge slumbering monster,” thought Bob Somers, as, with a steady hand, he directed their course still nearer the spur, and toward the ruddy, dancing flames.