The boys looked up at the kite, far, far above their heads in the blue sky. It made them feel dizzy to think of being up there. Then, to Jim’s surprise, Billy spoke.
“I’ll go up,” he said.
Of course Jim knew that he had no business to let his small brother do anything so dangerous. But he did long to show that the kite he had made, himself, was as good as an aeroplane.
“Will you, kid?” he said. “It would be quite safe. I wouldn’t let you go up very far. You would just have to hook your arm over the rope, and hang on tight.”
“Couldn’t he sit on the kite?” asked one of the boys.
“No,” said Jim. “It would spoil her balance. We must haul her down as low as we can, and then he can go up on the rope.”
So they hauled and hauled, and little by little the Eagle came down.
Billy’s heart beat fast, but he was a Cub and would not show that he was afraid.
“Now,” said Jim, “put your arm over—that’s it! I won’t let you go more than about forty feet up. Now, let go a bit, boys.”
Suddenly Billy felt himself being lifted off the ground and carried swiftly up into the clear, sunny air. It was glorious—nearly as good as being an airman! He could feel the great kite throbbing and straining above him. He glanced downwards; the earth seemed far below. There were all the boys hanging on to the rope in a long line.