Look there, he's off, Andy, and at a good lively clip,
too. Good-bye, old chap, and good luck!"
Andy had lost all interest in the great bird of the western Andes. He
was focusing his attention upon the place that he had marked as a likely
spot.
"Frank," he said, presently, in a husky voice, "could you drop a little
lower and slow down some?"
"That's easy," replied his chum, readily enough. "What has struck you
now, Andy?"
"It looks more and more promising to me," came the slow reply, as Andy
kept the glasses up to his eyes.
"Then you can glimpse something like cliffs?" asked Frank.
"Yes, and there's no doubt about that part. I'm waiting now to see if
the wide valley is wholly enclosed!"
"And if it is, you think--"
"It must be the place! Oh, Frank! What if we are near the spot? Would he
still be alive, or has he given up the fight? That condor perched up on
the pinnacle--was he only waiting for the time to come when he could fly
down? Perhaps--oh! what is that moving yonder? Look, Frank, Frank,
something is coming up above the top of the mountain! Can you see it? If
you could only take the glasses and tell me, for my hands are shaking so
I can't hold them!"
"Brace up, Andy. I can see what you mean without the glasses. There, now
it has risen above the line of rocks--something that bobs to and fro
like no bird ever flew--something that floats, now this way and now
that, just as the wind blows.
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