But let
loose, my boy. I had just sighted a likely looking place away over
yonder, at the time you said we ought to take advantage of this fine
landing stage, to look things over. Just head her that way when we get
going, will you?"
"Sure; anything to oblige," assented the other.
The launch was just as easy as they had anticipated. Indeed, Frank
seemed to have gotten this part of the programme down to a fine point
and could accomplish it apparently as well as a Wright or a Curtiss.
Ten minutes later and the monoplane was soaring toward the region which
Andy had denominated as a "likely spot."
"Look at that big bird watching us from that pinnacle yonder!" exclaimed
Andy, as he lowered the glasses for a moment.
"I see him," replied his comrade. "And there's no doubt now but what
that is a condor of the Andes. He thinks we must be some sort of bird,
which we are, of course, and is wondering whether he ought to flap his
wings and go up higher or hide behind that church steeple of rock."
"I only hope he don't take a measly notion to fight us, that's all,"
remarked the other, as he glanced anxiously toward where the Marlin was
secured to the framework of the airship.
"No danger of that," Frank continued. "A condor is like our vulture or
buzzard, a scavenger; and he lacks the bravery of the bald-headed eagle
that attacked us when we came near his nest on the tip of Old Thunder
Top.
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