It
was odd, the way things suddenly flashed into full view. One second they
would be blurred and unrecognizable; the next, sharply outlined and
distinct as anything the engineer had ever seen. Yet, there seemed to be
no change in the focus of those eyes. It wasn't as though they were
telescopic, either. Not until long afterward did Smith understand the
meaning of this.
The mountains grew higher and nearer. Before long it seemed as though
the aircraft was entering some sort of a canon. Its sides were only
sparsely covered with vegetation, and all of it was quite brown, as
though the season were autumn. For the most part the surface was of
broken rock and boulders.
Within a space of three or four minutes the engineer counted not less
than ten buzzards. The unknown operator of the machine, however, paid no
attention to them, but continued his extraordinary watch of the heavens.
Smith began to wonder if the chap were not seated in an air-tight,
sound-proof chamber, deep in the hull of some great aerial cruiser, with
his eyes glued fast to a periscope. "Maybe a sky patrol," thought the
man of the earth; "a cop on the lookout for aerial smugglers, like as
not."
And then came another of those terrifying stops.
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