“Oh, look at him! In the top of that pine,” she told Brad. “How will he ever get down?”
“I can get down,” stated Billy, unexpectedly willing to show them the wonderful feat.
With the agility of a little monkey he swung through the wide-spreading branches that crowned the towering column of rusty brown. Kitty’s hands were clenched agonizingly as he reached the smooth trunk, which had no supporting branches.
“Oh, dear God, bring him down safely,” she prayed. Seeing Brad take a step toward the tree, she whispered, “Don’t speak to him or make him nervous.”
Then they saw an amazing thing. Billy’s feet were seeking small niches cut in the trunk, and his hands holding to something that hugged the bark.
“I do believe there is wire wrapped all the way up that trunk,” whispered Brad, noting that she had seen it too.
“Put there so somebody could climb up and down that tree easily,” added Kitty. But at the moment she did not stop to realize how significant it might be. She was too grateful to know it was there to make Billy’s descent less dangerous.
Thirty feet above the ground the sturdy limbs of a young oak spread around the pine trunk. Billy stepped lightly to those limbs and a few minutes later had scrambled safely to the ground.
Kitty caught him to her, moaning, “Oh, Billy darling, you might have broken your neck! Never do such a thing again.”
“Huh!” he grunted, resenting being made a baby. “It was fun—like climbing our old magnolia back in N’ Orleans. Aunt Nina let me play up there any time.”