The long rope with its iron weight swayed awkwardly in spite of
all he could do to steady it, and as each one of the three prongs
was meant for catching and holding fast to whatever they touched,
there was no slight risk of impaling the man, thus giving him the
choice of another and still more painful death.

Then, with a desperate grasp, a death-clutch, he caught one arm
of the grapnel, holding fast as the shock came. He was carried
clear of the tree, and partly submerged in the water as his added
weight brought the flying-machine so much lower.

"Up, up, uncle Phaeton!" fairly howled Waldo, at the same time
tugging at the now taut rope, in which he was ably seconded by
his brother. "For love of--higher, uncle!"

Then the noble machine responded to the touch of its builder,
lifting the dripping stranger clear of the whirling currents,
swinging him away towards yonder higher level, where a fall would
not prove so quickly fatal. And then the eager professor gave a
shrill cheer as he saw the man, by a vigorous effort, draw his
body upward sufficiently far to throw one leg over an arm of the
grapnel itself.

Knowing now that the rescued was in no especial peril, uncle
Phaeton left the air-ship to steer itself long enough for his
nimble hands to take several turns of the drag-rope around the
cleat provided for that express purpose, thus relieving both
Bruno and Waldo of the heavy strain, which might soon begin to
tell upon them.