When camp was made again that night the Cibola had been afloat
eighty hours.
"I think she is good for another forty-eight hours," said Ned that
night. "If we find nothing in two more days we'll have our choice
of going out on foot or of quitting in time to pick up Elmer and Bob
and make a dash to civilization. What do you say?"
"I don't know," replied Alan, "I'd hate to give up as long as we can
fly. I think the boys can care for themselves. Let's stick to it.
We have provisions and there is water in some places."
"Well," answered Ned, "we'll have two more days time in which to
decide."
The next morning the Cibola showed plainly that her gas was rapidly
escaping. New life was given to the balloon by casting overboard
some empty hydrogen casks. The fourth day broke hotter than ever.
In all the wilderness examined by the tired and strained eyes of the
searchers, not a human being had been seen--not even a wandering
Navajo. This day they began the search with renewed vigor, but with
the same monotonous result--miles of hopelessly desert rock and sand
beneath them, with a little vegetation now and then, but so sign of
Indian remains.
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