“The wife and child of Cooper Edgecombe,--yes! Who else could they be, unless--I'd give a pretty penny for one fair squint at them, right now! If there was only some method of--It would hardly do to venture down yonder, uncle Phaeton?” The professor gave a stern gesture of denial, frowning as though he anticipated an actual break for yonder town, in spite of the odds against them. “That would be madness, Bruno! Worse than madness, by far! Look at yonder warriors, all thoroughly armed, and eager to drink blood as ever they were in centuries gone by! They are hundreds, if not thousands, while we are but three! Madness, my boy!” “Four, with Mr. Edgecombe, uncle.” “And that means a complete host so long as we are backed up by the air-ship,” declared Waldo, in his turn. “Those fellows!” with a sniff of true boyish scorn for aught that was not fully up to date. “What could they do, if we were to open fire on them just once?” “Prove our equals, man for man, armed as they assuredly are,” just as vigorously affirmed the professor, inclined rather to magnify than diminish the importance of these, his so recently discovered people. “You forget how the Aztecans fought Cortez and his mailed hosts. Yet these are one and identical, so far as valour and training and blood can go.” “Huh! Scared of a runty horse so badly that they prayed to 'em as they did to their own gods!” sniffed Waldo, betraying a lore for which he did not ordinarily receive fair credit. “Why, uncle Phaeton, let you just slam one o' those dynamite shells inside a chief--” “Nay, Waldo, must I repeat, we are not here for the purpose of conquest, unless by purely amicable methods. There must be no fighting, for or against. Savages though most people would be inclined to pronounce yonder race, they are human, with souls and--” “But I always thought they were heathens, uncle Phaeton?” The professor subsided at that, giving over as worse than useless the attempt to enlighten the irrepressible youngster, at least for the time being. Silence ruled for some little time, during which each one of the trio kept keen watch over the valley, the field-glass changing hands at intervals in order to put all upon an equal footing. One thing was clear enough unto all: the Indians had been greatly wrought up by the brief appearance of some queerly shaped monster of the air, and while a goodly number of their best warriors had hastened out of the valley and up the difficult passes, in hopes of learning more, still others were astir, weapons in hand, evidently determined to defend their lives or their property from any assault, should such be made, whether by known or foreign adversaries.