"Dey ain't canny, dem things," he declared; "ef de Lord had wanted us to
fly he'd have given us wings, I guess.
"Yes, sir, he'd sure have given us wings des de same as angels hev," he
repeated musingly.
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE MOONSHINERS AND THE AEROPLANE.
"This is a beautiful country, sis."
"Yes, indeed," agreed Peggy warmly.
The two were flying high above the romantic scenery of the Big Smoke
Mountains of North Carolina in the _Golden Butterfly_. Beneath them lay
a wild-looking expanse of country,--peaks, deep canons and cliffs
heavily wooded and here and there bare patches cropping out.
"Let's drop down on one of those patches and do some exploring,"
suggested Peggy.
"All right," agreed Roy, nothing loath. The _Golden Butterfly_ was
headed downward.
In a few minutes they landed on a smooth spot surrounded by trees.
Leaving the aeroplane, they struck off on a path through the woods.
"Wonder if we can't find some huckleberries hereabouts," suggested Roy.
"Oh, yes, lots. Wouldn't it be dandy to take home a bucketful by
aeroplane!"
"There's a little hut off yonder, maybe we could get a bucket or
something there.
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