“It looked as desperate as this on Earthquake Island,” she told herself. “Yet we got off, thanks to Tom.” All this while the _Hummer_ had been gliding down on a long slant. Mary realized, of course, that the longer and more gradual the slant, or angle, at which the falling aeroplane approached the earth, the better chance it had for making a gentle and safe landing. It is the sudden nose dives, or tail spins, straight to earth that crash the planes and kill the pilots. Tom was saving his machine. He would let it glide swiftly down for a short distance and then head it up, so it would nose toward the sky. This would slacken its speed and also carry it further along. But it was evident that he could never cross the wide area of the burning forest and reach Lake Carlopa. That was out of the question. The next best thing, as Tom had decided, was to land in some big tree, the springing branches of which would act as a cushion. “But I’ve got to pick out a spot where there isn’t any fire,” Tom told himself. There was, of course, a certain burning area of the forest fire. Equally of course, there was not an even number of square miles ablaze. The fire was irregular in shape, and there were portions, perhaps a mile in extent each way, where the flames had not taken hold. Also, because of the nature of the fuel on which it fed, the fire advanced irregularly. The line of its advance was one that curved in and out, so that there were indentations here and there like the shore line of the sea, with bays of fire and points of woodland as yet unburned. To pick out one of these places was Tom’s desire, and as the aeroplane glided nearer and nearer to the earth he knew that he must soon make this decision. “Oh, Tom, what are we going to do?” faltered Mary. The suspense was telling on her. She could not quite fathom Tom’s object. “We’re going to land in that big pine tree,” he suddenly exclaimed. “Hold your arms over your face, Mary, so you won’t be scratched. Look out now—here we go!” As Tom spoke he ducked down behind the protection cowl of the cockpit in front of him, having a moment before adjusted the steering lever so as to glide into the top of an immense pine tree which stood in the midst of a clump of other giants of the forest, in a space as yet untouched by fire. A moment later the _Hummer_ crashed—crashed with a thud, a rending, a crackling, a splintering and tearing that went to Tom’s heart, for the plane was almost like a live creature to him. Even as the plane crashed, Tom knew that he had made the best landing possible, and that, for the time at least, he and Mary were safe. As Tom had anticipated, the spreading branches of the great pine tree acted as an immense cushion, and as the _Hummer_ was a comparatively small plane, she was buoyed up. That is, at least long enough to take up the first shock.