And he did.
After that other ascent in the heart of the tropical forest he declared
he did not mean to let anything appal him henceforth.
Once they started circling the valley, low down and just missing the
tops of the trees growing there, Andy, sent vigorous whoops after them,
and his father answered by waving his hand, for hat he had none.
So, guided by the master hand of Frank Bird, the aeroplane rose above
the line of those hateful and cruel cliffs and for the first time since
his captivity the man of science saw the blessed outside world again.
There was no trouble landing him on the accommodating plateau, after
which the aeroplane started back for its second passenger.
Frank abated his vigilance not a particle. He knew that constant
watchfulness must be the price of safety when one is venturing to
imitate the birds and soar through the upper currents of the air.
Down into the valley he dropped, the monoplane behaving beautifully. And
presently he was shaking the hand of his chum again.
Once more was a start made. Frank breathed easier after it had proven a
success, for there were narrow escapes from a collision with some
obstacle, and he knew only too well what that stood for.
"Now we're all right, I guess!" sang out Andy, as they came out of the
depths and Frank turned the airship in the direction of the distant
plateau.
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