Holding with his legs wrapped about the trunk, when he was almost three-quarters of the way up, Jak fastened his end of the liana tautly in place. This was extremely difficult because of his unnatural position, as well as the stiffness of the vine and his having to work with one hand. But without wasting time, he took pains to make sure the knot was tight and secure. Then he started climbing again, further and further toward the slender top of the now bent tree. But carefully, lest his weight and the bending splinter or snap the treetop as it bent still further. "Get tight, Jon. Be ready for the yank when I let go." "All set and line tight. Yell when you drop." Glancing down to see that the way was clear below him, Jak let his legs go and swung by his arms until he was hanging clear. He yelled sharply and let go--plunging down the fifteen or eighteen feet to the ground. Disregarding the shock, he scrambled up, and peered closely at the tree, then the vine, then at Jon. The tree was straining to pull back into its accustomed erectness. The liana was taut--but bits of its bark were flecking off. It creaked so alarmingly Jak was afraid it would break. All the time Jon was wriggling and twisting to help free his feet and legs. And the vine held, as the tree proved its natural strength and desire for an upright position. Slowly but surely Jon's body was pulled from its prison. As he came more nearly free the tree snapped upright so swiftly he was whipped out of the water and a dozen feet onto the sand. He landed, face down, with a terrific jar. Jak ran up and helped untie the vine. Jon sat up slowly with his brother's help. His face was scuffed where it had slid along the sandy beach, and he slowly, painfully wiped it somewhat clean with his handkerchief. His breath came in gasps from the terrible constriction of the vine about his chest, and from his unusual exertions. Sympathetically, Jak hovered about until finally Jon's breathing was a bit easier. When his brother started to try to get up, he helped and held him. "Guess I can make it now." Jon finally broke away and did manage to stand alone, although he still reeled a bit from the fatigue and the terrible ordeal through which he had been. He walked slowly about, rolling his shoulders and moving his arms and fingers, exercising his cramped muscles. Jak gave him a couple of anti-fatigue pills from his pocket first-aid kit, and Jon swallowed these. Finally, he began collecting his rod and creel. "They'd danged well better be good to eat," he declared, shaking the offending fish basket. "It certainly wasn't worth all that narrow escape," Jak said soberly as he took the things from his brother and went over to pick up the little animal carcasses. But when he got there he exclaimed in disgust, "Darn, those ants have eaten them almost all up!"