It took them the better part of a week to do this, but at last they were on the ground, and felt for the first time that they were really going into a wild and little explored country.

“Are you going to stick to the Parana river?” asked Ned.

“No,” replied Tom, in the seclusion of their room, “if there are any giants they will be found in some undiscovered, or at least little traveled, part of the country.  I don’t believe they are in the vicinity of the big rivers, or other travelers would have heard about them, and, as far as we know, Mr. Preston’s animal agent is the only one who ever got a trace of them.  We’ll have to go into the jungle on either side of the river.”

“Bless my walking stick!” cried Mr. Damon.  “Have we really to go into the jungle, Tom?”

“I’m afraid we have, if we want to get any giants, and get a trace of Mr. Poddington.”

“All right, I’m game, but I do hope we won’t run into a band of fighting natives.”

In Rosario it was learned that while the “war” was not regarded seriously from the fact that the fighting tribes were far inland, still it was going on with vigor, and large bands of natives were roaming about, stealing each others’ cattle and horses, burning villages, and taking captives.

“I guess we’re in for it,” remarked Tom grimly.  “But I’m not going to back out now.”

Unexpected complications, difficulties in the way of getting the right kind of help, and a competent man to take charge of the native drivers, so delayed our friends that it was nearly two weeks after their arrival in Rosario before they could start for the interior.

Of course the object of the expedition was kept a secret, and Tom let it be known that he and his friends were merely exploring, and wanted rare plants, orchids, or anything in that line.  The natives were not very curious.

At last the day for the start came.  The mules, which had been hired as beasts of burdens, were loaded with boxes or bales on either side, the natives were marshalled into line.  Tom, Ned, and Mr. Damon, each equipped with a rifle had a saddle animal to ride, and Eradicate was similarly equipped, though for a weapon he depended on a shotgun, which he said he understood better than the electric rifles.

The aeroplane, divided into many small packages, the goods for barter, their supplies, stores, ammunition, and the box of which Tom took such care—­all these were on the backs of the beasts of burden.  Some food was taken along, but for a time, at least, they could depend on scattered towns or villages, or the forest game, for their eating.

“Are we all ready?” called Tom, looking at the rather imposing cavalcade of which he was the head.

“I guess so,” replied Ned.  “Let her go!”

“Bless my liver pad!” gasped Mr. Damon.  “If we’ve got to start do it, and let’s get it over with Tom.”

“All ready, Rad?” asked the colored man’s young master.