Brief though that view had been, it was sufficiently long to show the professor houses of solid and substantial shape, cultivated plots, human beings, and a little river whose clear waters sparkled and flashed in the sunlight. It was very hard to cut that view so short, but the professor had not lost all prudence, and he knew that danger to both vessel and passengers might follow a nearer intrusion upon the privacy of yonder armed people. Yet his face was fairly glowing with glad exultation as he brought the aerostat to a lower strata of air, shutting off all view from yonder valley, as it lay amid its encircling hills. “Hurrah!” he cried, snatching off his cap and waving it enthusiastically, as the air-ship floated onward at ease. “At last! Found--we've discovered it at last! And all is true,--all is true!” “Found what, uncle Phaeton?” asked Waldo, a bit doubtfully. “The Lost City of the Aztecs, of course! Oh, glad day, glad day!” “Unless--what if it should prove to be only a--a mirage, uncle Phaeton?” almost timidly ventured Bruno, a moment later. CHAPTER XV. ASTOUNDING, YET TRUE. The professor gave a great start at this almost reluctant suggestion, shrinking back with a look which fell not far short of being horrified. But then he rallied, forcing a laugh before speaking. “No, no, Bruno. All conditions are lacking to form the mirage of the desert. And, too; everything was so distinct and clearly outlined that one could--” “Fairly feel those blessed bow-arrows tickling a fellow in the short ribs,” vigorously declared the younger Gillespie. “Not but that--I say, uncle Phaeton?” “What is it now, Waldo?” “Reckon they're like any other people? Got boys and--and girls among 'em, I wonder?” “I daresay, yes, why not?” answered Featherwit, scarcely realising what words were being shaped by his lips, while Bruno broke into a brief-lived laugh, more at that half-sheepish expression than at the query itself. “Both boys and girls galore, I expect, Kid; but you needn't borrow trouble on either score. You can outrun the lads, while as for the fairer sex,--well, they'll take precious good care to keep well beyond your reach,--especially if you wear such another fascinating grin as--” “Oh, you go to thunder, Bruno Gillespie!” Through all this interchange the air-ship was maintaining a wide sweep, drawing nearer the forest beneath, if only to keep hidden from the eyes of the strange people in yonder deep valley. Yet the gaze of Phaeton Featherwit as a rule kept turned towards that particular point, his eyes on fire, his lips twitching, his whole demeanour that of one who feels a discovery of tremendous importance lies just before him. “Are we going to land, uncle Phaeton?” queried Bruno, taking note of that preoccupation, which might easily prove dangerous under existing circumstances. That question served to recall the professor to more material points, and, after a keen, sweeping look around, he nodded assent.