But a few feet separated him from the brink, when an ominous cracking sound rose sharply on the air. The tree began to sag in an alarming manner.
With an exclamation of dismay, Dick let his gun drop, then, as he felt the support slipping from under him, gave a flying leap.
As he did so, the trunk, split in twain, crashed to the bottom of the gully. Dick's startled companions saw him frantically grasp hold of a low-hanging branch which projected over the brink of the chasm. Bending beneath his weight, it held him suspended in mid-air.
"Great Cæsar!" cried Sam. "If that breaks, he'll get an ugly tumble."
"Hang on tight!" yelled Bob, encouragingly.
But Dick's strong hands were holding with a firm grasp, and after the first moment of fear had passed, he glanced at the bottom of the gully, and, with a long breath, started to swing himself hand over hand to safety.
The strain proved to be too much for the elastic branch. It began to bend, carrying the dangling boy in a graceful curve downward. Presently it snapped, with a resounding crack, and Dick found himself crashing through the twigs and branches of the prostrate tree.
The fall was but short, and being thus broken resulted in no harm. Dick immediately extricated himself.
"All right, Dick?" called Bob, anxiously.
"Sound as a dollar. That tree must have lain there for ages—it's nothing but punk."