You fell light, like a feather.

All grass here....

You can't be hurt!" said Dale, sharply.
His anxious voice penetrated beyond her hearing, and his strong hands went swiftly over her arms and shoulders, feeling for broken bones.
"Just had the wind knocked out of you," went on Dale.

"It feels awful, but it's nothin'." Helen got a little air, that was like hot pin-points in her lungs, and then a deeper breath, and then full, gasping respiration.
"I guess--I'm not hurt--not a bit," she choked out.
"You sure had a header.

Never saw a prettier spill.