Quotes About Exploration

enough so that by scrambling over its bow one could land on the tumbled heaps of rocks and boulders just beneath the opening. "Let's take a look," he said eagerly. "Jerry, will you hold the boat here?" "Sure. Go ahead." Within a few minutes the others were climbing up the boulders toward the cave mouth. Presently they vanished into the dark interior.

The motorboat edged its way along the face of the cliff. Whenever the boys noticed one of the larger openings that could be reached easily from the shore, Frank ran the boat in among the rocks. Then, while one boy stayed in the Sleuth, the others would scramble up to investigate the cave. The hours dragged by. Finally they navigated to a place where the cliff sloped and began to give way to sandy hills and wooded inclines. Biff

They drove around to the north shore, and presently came upon two large stone pillars covered with vines. The name MEAD was carved on one. As they turned into the driveway, Joe said, "The place looks deserted to me." A short distance ahead of them was a clump of trees, around which the driveway wound to the stone mansion. The imposing house at the end of the deeply rutted and overgrown road stood about two hundred feet from the water, commanding an unobstructed view of Barmet Bay.

The Hardys started down the street. They had gone only three blocks when their chubby friend Chet Morton jumped out of a yellow sedan which stopped briefly and then went on. He was munching an apple. "Hi, fellows," he greeted them. "I was on my way to your house. Phil gave me a ride. Going anywhere special?" "Well, sort of," Joe replied. "Why?" "Put it off," Chet insisted importantly. "I've got something to show you.

Joe came down to join Chet Morton, who sat at the car's wheel. "Where to?" he asked.

Not until after supper were the Hardys able to drive out to the Batter estate. The high, gabled mansion loomed starkly against the sky, silvered by moonlight. A broken porch rail and dark, blank windows gave it a sinister look. "Spooky-looking layout," Joe muttered. "It's a cinch no one's taking care of the place.

When he reached the selected cruising altitude, Jerry set the plane on course. Hour after hour passed as it bore through the sky. Lulled by the drone of the engines, the boys caught up on some sleep. When they awoke, the first light of dawn was breaking in the east. Gradually the light grew brighter, revealing a fascinating mosaic of deep blue and jade green on the surface of the ocean below.

The boys hurried to the Hardys' convertible. A red glow of sunset suffused

By now the speedy craft was far out on the broad bay. The water had grown choppy and was turning from green to steely gray. In the distance the boys watched a cluster of white sails skimming before the breeze.

Nice lines," commented Joe. "Pass close to her, will you, Frank?" Quietly, with her engine throttled down, the motorboat drew abreast of the larger vessel. It was now dusk and a light shone in her cabin from which came the sound of activity. Frank gazed in admiration at the tall masts and shipshape rigging.

The Hardys and Chet hastened out into the chilly air. The lighted windows of the house became eerie rectangles of hazy yellow in the drifting mist as the trio skirted the dense bushes edging the lawn.

After stopping in the house for lemonade with the girls and to pick up Chet's wallet, the three boys piled into the convertible and drove off. A few minutes later they pulled up in front of the novelty shop on King Street. A bell tinkled as they walked in and Mr. Bivven, the squat, baldheaded proprietor, came out of the back room to greet them. He beamed at the trio across the counter. "Something you'd like, boys?

mountain peak soared against the sky. "That's El Yunque—The Anvil," Jack pointed out. "It's a tropical rain forest with ferns as high as houses." They landed and admired the large white modernistic terminal building as they walked toward it. The structure seemed to be poised on stilts. Mr. Hardy was waiting to greet the travelers as soon as they cleared customs. "Good flight?" he asked.

The boys drove to the Morton farm. Frank and Joe went inside with their chum and Mrs. Morton served milk and apple pie.

Chet Morton, who was a school chum of the Hardy boys, lived on a farm about a mile out of Bayport. The pride of Chet's life was a bright yellow jalopy which he had named Queen. He worked on it daily to "soup up" the engine. Frank and Joe retraced their trip for a few miles, then turned onto a country road which led to the main highway on which the Morton farm was situated.

The boys continued their journey in the deepening darkness. Ahead, the road wound through isolated, hilly country. Here and there they encountered patches of light radiation fog, a phenomenon common to this type of terrain.

Within half an hour Frank was guiding their convertible through the crowded streets of the grimy waterfront section of Southport. Reaching Dock Street, Joe began to look at the house numbers. "There it is!" he exclaimed. "Pull up, Frank." Twenty-four Dock Street was a ramshackle tenement. As the boys walked through the open front door, a stocky man dressed in dirty work clothes brushed rudely by them into the hallway.

In another five minutes they reached a tiny village which consisted of a general store, a garage, a church, and a few homes. Frank parked the car. "Peaceful-looking place," he remarked. "I wonder if we'll find a clue here.

Acting as if there were no problems on their minds, Frank and Joe strolled along whistling. Once they joined a group of people who were watching a sidewalk merchant. The man was demonstrating little jumping animals. Frank and Joe laughed as they bought a monkey and a kangaroo. "Iola and Callie will get a kick out of these," Joe predicted.

More cautiously than ever, the Hardys approached the old mansion. The house, covered with fading clapboards, was fronted by a low veranda and topped off with turrets and decaying latticework. Ragged clumps of shrubbery grew close to the walls.

A few minutes later the Hardys and Chet were heading for Larchmont. The car crossed a crystal-clear brook winding through a shady stand of pines set back on a knoll. "Stop!" ordered Chet. "Here's the place for our submarine sandwiches." Laughing, the boys parked off the road and got out. Soon they were sprawled on the soft pine needle carpet of the grove, where they could just see the sunlight flashing on the front of the convertible.

The boys took a taxi to the oceanfront. It was a beautiful day and the sea sparkled in the sunshine. The four sleuths ate lunch at a restaurant specializing in seafood, then Frank rented a trim little speedboat. "Oh, boy, I can hardly wait to take her out!" Tony gloated as he warmed up the motor. "We should stick in pairs to be on the safe side," Joe said thoughtfully. Chet would accompany Tony. A few moments later the two boys put-putted out across the water.

There were no ships to be seen, and no people; only here and there the traces of some old building. Many villages had flourished in these parts before the first Northmen came, but everything had long since been plundered and laid waste, so that nowadays men had to travel far to the south before they could find any prizes worth the taking.

Nor is it perhaps really love when I say that for me you are the most beloved; In this love you are like a knife, with which I explore myself.