The Flying Boys to the Rescue

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

“This must be more than a hole in the ground,” he decided, “for if it weren’t, it would be filled with water from the rains and melting snow.”

His supposition was right. It would be more proper to speak of the trap in which he was caught as an expansion of a gorge. On one side a fissure reached from the bottom to the top, with a similar opening opposite. Peeping through these in turn, Harvey noted that the channel beyond widened to several feet. Thus a torrent of water rushing through the ravine from the higher level, would find an outlet on the other side of the expansion and in a miniature way the wonderfully picturesque “Gorge of the Aare” would be reproduced.

“Ah, if either was a little wider!” mourned Harvey, after vainly trying to wedge his body through the narrow openings; “it would be fun to follow the ravine to its outlet or to some spot where I could find a ladder up the side, but that can’t be.”

Thus far nothing in the nature of fear had disturbed the young aviator. Several hours of daylight remained and he was confident that by bestirring himself, or, if necessary, calling for help, he would be extricated from his vexatious situation. He came back to the place upon which he had fixed his hopes and girded himself for the effort.

“I could do it if it wasn’t for that bulge,” he said to himself, glancing aloft, “though the wall happens to be higher there than anywhere else.”

Grasping a rocky projection with one hand, he found a resting place for his feet and pulled himself upward for ten or a dozen inches. Looking over either shoulder he had a partial view of his groping shoes which after awhile found a resting place, and then he made another hitch. This was comparatively easy work, and if it would only last he could climb out as readily as if ascending the stairs at home. But nature delights in irregularity, and when she built the steps in the side of the gorge she did not consult the convenience of anyone.

As has been stated the inward thrust of the wall began at about half the height from the bottom. The slope was so slight that it might have been overcome, had the projections occurred at the right intervals and had they been big enough to give a secure foot or handhold. With the utmost pains Harvey closed his fingers around the support, one in each hand and began groping with the toes of his shoes. He recalled the configuration over which he had passed, and succeeded in thrusting the front of his right shoe into a crevice, but was unable to find a rest for the other foot. Once the toe caught, but the instant he bore upon it the shoe slipped free and beat the air. The rattling fragments showed that he had struck a spot where the shale was too rotten to be depended upon.

At his waist a horizontal fissure had served for his hands. If he could lift his feet sufficiently to use it and gain another support above, it would be of vast help, but he must first secure an upper hold. Looking aloft he saw a ledge that he thought would answer.

“If it gives way or my hands slip I shall fall,” he concluded, after studying the task, “but it’s my only hope and here goes.”

He bent his knees slightly and leaped upward. His calculation was made so nicely that he caught the projecting ledge, and had nearly worked his shoes into the lower opening, when the shale in his grasp broke as if it were a decayed limb, and unable to stay his descent, he dropped to the bottom of the gorge. The distance was not sufficient to harm him much, though he was considerably jarred.