to his words, but turned himself completely round, so
that he held on, with his back to the stony wall, and his heels upon a
couple of rough projections, in so perilous a position that Jem looked
on aghast, afraid now to speak. In front of Don, about nine feet away,
and the top level with his feet, was the tree of which he had spoken.

As far as support was concerned, it was about as reasonable to trust to
a tall fishing-rod; but it appeared to be the only chance, and Don
hesitated no longer than was necessary to calculate his chances.

"Don't do it, Mas' Don. It's impossible, and like chucking yourself
away. Let's climb up again; it's the only chance; and if we can't get
to the village in time, why, it arn't our fault. No, my lad, don't!"

As the last words left his lips, Don stood perfectly upright, balancing
himself for a few moments, and then, almost as if he were going to dive
into the water, he extended his hands and sprang outward into space.

Jem Wimble uttered a low groan.

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT.

DON'S REPORT.

In the case of a leap like that made by Don, there was no suspense for
the looker on, for the whole affair seemed to be momentary. Jem saw him
pass through the air and disappear in the mass of greenery with a loud
rushing sound, which continued for a few moments, and then all was
still.

"He's killed; he's killed!" groaned Jem to himself; "and my Sally will
say it was all my fault."

He listened eagerly.

"Mas' Don!" he shouted.

"Hullo, Jem! I say, would you drop if you were me?"

"Drop? Then you arn't killed?"

"No, not yet. Would you drop?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"I'm hanging on to the end of that young tree, and it keeps going up and
down like a spring, and it won't go any nearer than about twelve feet
from the ground. Would you drop?"

_Whish_! _Rush_! _Crash_! _Thud_!

The young tree sprang up again, cleaving a way for itself through the
thick growth, and standing nearly erect once more, ragged and sadly
deprived of its elegant proportions, just as a dull sound announced
Don's arrival on _terra firma_.

"All right, Jem!" he cried. "Not hurt. Look here; spread your arms out
well and catch tight round the tree as you jump at it. You'll slip down
some distance and scratch yourself, but you can't hurt much."

"I hear, Mas' Don," said Jem, drawing a long breath full of relief.
"I'm a-coming. It's like taking physic," he added to himself; "but the
soo