"Something like--oh, see how the water is running out,--just like
emptying a bathtub through a hole at the bottom! And see what--a
man caught in the whirl, true's you're a foot high, uncle!"

"A man? Here? Impossible,--incredible, boy!" fairly exploded
the professor, not yet ready to relinquish his cherished belief
in a terra incognita.

The air-voyagers were swiftly nearing that point of interest, and
now keen-eyed Bruno caught a glimpse of a drifting object which
had been drawn within the influence of yonder whirlpool, but
which was just as certainly a derelict from the forest.

"Another floating tree-trunk for Waldo!" he cried, with a short
laugh, feeling far from unpleased that the intense strain upon
his nerves should be thus lessened. "Try it again, lad, and
perhaps--"

"Try your great-grandmother's cotton nightcap! Don't you suppose
I can tell the difference between a tree and a--"

"Ranting, prancing, cavorting 'sour-us' right out of Webster's
Unabridged, eh, laddy-buck?"

"That's all right, if you can only keep on thinking that way, old
man; but if yonder isn't a fellow being in a mighty nasty pickle,
then I wouldn't even begin to say so! And--you look, uncle
Phaeton, please."

Nothing loath, the professor took the proffered glasses, and but