“No picnic.” Jack was himself again.
“How do you feel?” she asked.
He stood up, balanced himself for a moment, then went through the motions of skipping a rope.
“You’ll do.” She sprang to her feet. “We haven’t a moment to lose. Come on!”
Jack followed her over the steep, uncertain trail. Since she was barefoot, native style, her feet appeared to cling to the rocks. From time to time she gripped his hands to whisper, “This is a bad spot.”
And then they were on the level rock, racing for the plane.
“Are you sure?” Jack hesitated with his hand on the jet plane.
“Yes, sure!” she whispered. “He fell too far. Couldn’t possibly bother us now. I’ll send the natives to look him up later. But now, please hurry!”
She joined him in climbing to the plane’s top. While Jack dropped into the pilot’s place, she swung down into the gunner’s seat.
“Why!” she exclaimed in a whisper. “This is an American twinflex gun! I’ve fired them often!”