The window above was black with watchers as he began his journey, and many voices cheered him on.

Paul, his feet hanging over the black void, sat on the narrow ledge and waited his turn.
"Go fast, chum," he counseled, "but don't lose your grip.

I'll wait until you're down." "All right," answered Neil.

Then, with a great rustling of the thick-growing leaves, he lowered himself by arm's lengths.

The vine swayed and gave at every strain, but held.