In a few minutes Dick was safely on the ground, an inanimate heap at the foot of the tree.
"Dot vas vell done!" declared Carl, heaving a long sigh of relief. "Now how ve going to ged down ourselufs, Matt?"
"Have you tied the rope securely, up there?"
"Yah, so."
"Then we'll have to slide down. You go first, Carl. As soon as you reach the ground, I'll follow you."
"I don'd vas mooch oof a sailor," said Carl, sitting down on the limb and laying hold of the rope, "und I can shlide down a lod easier as I couldt climb oop. Here I go!"
The first twenty feet of the rope was covered by Carl like chain lightning; after that, however, he got a better grip and went the rest of the way more slowly.
Matt lowered himself hand over hand, descending as easily as though he was going down a ladder. Carl was kneeling beside Dick when Matt's feet touched ground.
"His heart iss going like anyt'ing," observed Carl joyfully, "und I can't findt dot he has any proken pones."
"We'll carry him to the edge of the bayou and see if a little water won't help revive him," said Matt. "Poor old Dick! He'll take the loss of the Hawk pretty hard, but we ought all of us to be thankful we got out of that scrape with our lives."