It was a little after one o'clock when Paul and Tom announced land to the westward. After looking at the object, which surely had the appearance of land, Mr. Giddings laid down the glasses and consulted the chart. "That's undoubtedly the outer point of Nicaragua," he said; and upon taking a look themselves with the binoculars, the others all agreed with him. Keeping the low-lying coastline of the continent on their right, and buffeted considerably by contrary winds which now began to make themselves manifest, Bob threw the automatic-pilot into gear at a suggestion from John, as this insured greater safety, and steered with the rudder only. At once the riding became easier, for the moment a gust of wind hit the machine on one side, the elevators and ailerons shifted and counteracted its uneven effect. After a while Bob turned slightly to the eastward, and about mid-afternoon they came in sight of Colon, the Atlantic terminal city of the great Canal. Sweeping over its collection of houses, at an elevation of about fifteen hundred feet, they passed the big white Gatun locks, and followed the trail of the Panama Railroad across the great neck of rugged land which joined North and South America--followed, too, the tortuous, wonderful channel which American enterprise had cut through. Thus over Gatun Lake they flew, over the Chagres River; along the course of Culebra Cut, with its high banks, across the Pedro Miguel and Miraflores locks on the other side of the isthmus; over Ancon; and finally below them lay clustered the white-robed buildings of Panama itself, with the swelling blue reaches of the big Pacific to the southward and westward, and the bold shore-line of South America to the southeastward. Looking down as they circled the narrow tongue of land on which the city proper nestled, our friends soon made out the big Government landing-field and airdrome, distinguished by its whitewashed cobblestone markers at either end. And, now, as the Sky-Bird II swooped downward, several attendants in white pantaloons could be seen running out of the building. When the airplane had settled, these men came up. Two were short, black fellows, probably San Blas Indians; but the other two were whites, though well-burned by the tropical suns. The taller of the white men introduced himself as Henry Masters, superintendent of the landing-field, and was extremely courteous when he learned the identity of the new-arrivals. "We have been looking for you gentlemen," said he, "and I'm glad to know you had such a fine run from Miami. There are a lot of strangers in town--been arriving for the last three or four days--all to witness the start of this big race. Most of them seem to be newspaper men from the States, though there are a number from South America, and even Africa and Europe. Is this the plane that you fellows representing the _Daily Independent_ are going to fly in?" "This is the one, Mr. Masters," responded John.