Once
more Van Emmon was temporarily helpless.
When he could look again, he saw that the machine had landed upon a
steep slope, this time with its nose pointing upward. Far above was
what looked like a cave, with a growth of some queer, black grass on
its upper rim. The craft commenced to move upward, over a smooth,
dark tan surface.
In half a minute the machine had reached the top of the slope, and
the geologist looked eagerly for what might lie within the cave. He
was disappointed; it was not a cave at all. Instead, another brown
slope, or rather a bulging precipice, occupied this depression.
Van Emmon looked closer. At the bottom of this bulge was a queer
fringe of the same kind of grass that showed on top of it. Van Emmon
looked from one to the other, and all of a sudden the thing dawned
upon him.
This stupendous affair was no mountainside; it was neither more nor
less than the head of a colossal statue! A mammoth edition of the
Goddess of Liberty; and the aircraft had presumed to alight upon its
cheek!
The machine clung there, motionless, for some time, quite as though
the airman knew that Van Emmon would like to look a long while.
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