The lad gave a violent start when a bird unexpectedly darted out from amidst the shadowed depths of the fragrant pines, and, with a shrill cry, flew swiftly past.
“Take it easy, lad,” cautioned Kindale, from below. “’Tain’t very far to the ground.”
Pine-needles were sweeping against Willie at every step, scratching his hands and face; but he struggled on, even smiling grimly as he discovered the engineer sitting astride a limb just below.
“The sand-bag stuck right here,” explained Kindale, “but there’s plenty o’ stout branches—nothing to be skeered at, lad.”
“Who’s skeered?” grunted Willie.
“Not you, that’s sure,” laughed the other. “You’re a brick. Easy, now! I’ll give you a hand.”
With the assistance of the engineer, Willie managed to climb upon a sturdy limb, uttering a sigh of satisfaction as he eased himself into a safe position.
“Take a rest, now, while I keep on,” advised Kindale. “Yes; we’re still all right, Major!” he yelled, in answer to a call which came through the trees. “’Most down, now.”
Five minutes later, after struggling from branch to branch and crotch to crotch, Willie Sloan dropped, safe and sound, to the earth.
“Bully for you!” cried Kindale. “You’re a dandy!”