Ab argued that it was possible--barely possible--for Lightfoot's
compact, agile, slender body to be launched in just the right way from
one of the branches of the taller tree, and, swinging in its descent
across the space between the two, lodge among the branches of the beech
with him. Strong arms ready to clasp her as she came and to withstand the
shock and to hold her safely he promised and, to enforce his plea, he
pointed out that, unless they thus took their fate in hand, there was
starvation awaiting them as they were, while carrying out his plan, if
any accident befell, there was only swift though dreadful death to reckon
with. There was one chance for their lives and that chance must be taken.
Ab called to his young wife:
"Crawl out upon a branch above me, swing down from it, swing hard and
throw yourself to me. I will catch you and hold you. I am strong."
The woman, with all faith in the man, still demurred. It was a great
test, even for the times and the occasion. But hunger was upon her and
she was cold and was, naturally, very brave. She lowered herself and
climbed down and reached an out-extending limb, and there, across the
gap, she saw Ab with his strong legs twined about the uprearing branch
along which he laid, with giant brown arms stretched out confidently and
with eyes steadily regarding her, eyes which had love and longing and a
lot of fight in them.
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