Globusz^® Publishing 

eter and Helen started their run, and then with a loud flap from the ‘sail’ as the wind got under it they were off. Helen had only taken four strides when she found there was nothing beneath her feet as she was hauled into the air. They were in imminent danger of being flipped over backward when suddenly the control bar was jerked back hard against her legs. Next moment she saw the roof of the women's washroom flash by beneath them before the upright of the control bar smashed against her head. It was all extremely violent. A cry built up in her throat but she managed to choke it off as the wind rushed past her, the ‘sail’ flapped and the bamboo creaked and groaned. Crashing! Diving to their death! Mangled bodies entwined. It all passed through her mind in a flash when just as suddenly the wind eased, the control bar movements became less violent and at last things settled down as the wind turbulence gave way to a gentle breeze.

“It works! It works! We’re flying.” Peter shouted. “It’s bloody marvellous we’re flying, look behind you, we must be nearly half a mile away already.” He looked at her because of her silence. “Are you Okay? ... you haven’t said a word... can you get your feet up in the slings?”

“Are we really flying?” she asked. “Gosh! That was real scary. I got slammed on my thighs then banged on the head. I didn’t think it would be as violent as that. I only took three or four strides, there was no chance of diving forward I didn't have anything to push off from. What happened Peter?”

“Ah!” He commented, slightly chastened. “That was my fault. We should have had the nose pointing lower. I didn’t anticipate the wind getting under us like it did, there is a terrific up draft at the end of that roof. I should have checked it out first, before we took off. I nearly stalled the glider and then we side-slipped before I could get it under control. The up draft wasn’t smooth over the edge, but we got away with it. God! Wasn’t it great though? We came off there like an Owl from its perch. I hope the guards didn’t notice anything; it all appears quiet behind us... Is your head hurting?”

This last comment, as he saw Helen take one hand off the control bar to feel the side of her head. “No! Not too bad.” This was accompanied by a few grunts and a heave as she managed at last to get her feet into the sling. “Can I let go of this control bar while I check my head? I think I’m bleeding.”

“Yes that’s okay but make sure you don’t swing too much. If you turn your head I’ll see what it‘s like.”

The thought of him looking at her head whilst he tried to fly the glider sent shivers up her spine, quickly she reassured him. Somehow her headscarf had survived the bang and the wind and she managed to pull it down over the wound to stop any bleeding.

Meanwhile Drew, watching from the relative safety of the washroom roof, was recovering from the vision of the stomach churning take off. He had just seen them run forward, next moment they were high above his head before tipping over nose down and diving sideways towards the other roof. They missed crashing into this by a few feet before souring gently out into the darkness. He had no idea whether there had been any noise as the sight of imminent disaster had overwhelmed his senses. He turned to look at Miguel who was standing open mouthed peering into the darkness. “Miguel, the guards, any sign of them?” He whispered.

Miguel looked first at him, hesitated and then peered cautiously over the edge of the pitched roof. An agonising minute ensued before he turned and shook his head. 

Helen now had time to look around and take stock of her surroundings. Hanging whilst lying on her stomach in the harness with her feet in the sling, Peter was lying shoulder to shoulder with her in the same position on her right. Below, a long way below, she could just make out some vague shapes of trees and bushes. If she put her head down to look at her toes she could see, in the growing moonlight, the sheer face of the cliff with the grey prison on top. But of course, it appeared upside down. It was now a long way behind them but there were no extra lights coming on that she could make out. Maybe they had ‘got away with it’ after all. When she turned her head to the right the steep side of the mountain was easily visible as they traversed along its face. They were going quite fast but there was only a gentle breeze blowing over her and when she raised her head and looked where they were going there wasn’t much to see. It appeared very dark in front, only by concentrating did she realise that the ground ahead of them was still in shadow from the rising half moon.

“Peter... I can’t see anything in front, it’s all in shadow, how can you see where to land.”

“Land!” he exclaimed. “We are not intending to land for some time yet, by then the moon will be well up and we will be able to see the ground and pick a spot. What we have to do is to move over closer to the mountain slope so that we can catch the up draft. We need height, the more height we get the further we can go before we land. Or alternatively the less we have to climb during the day.”

With that he moved the control bar over slightly and they drifted towards the mountain-side. They had been descending slowly as they flew along; it was eerily quiet just the waft of the breeze and a faint hum from various guys. As they approached the mountain they could fell the occasional rise but the flight became increasingly unsteady. The closer they came to the mountain the unsteadier it became and the more movement of the control bar was required.

“We have to compromise now.” Peter nudged her shoulder, indicating to their right. “The closer we get to the mountain the more lift we get, but also it becomes turbulent and consequently more dangerous. I think the best course is if we can keep it steady, not lose height but not necessarily gain any either. At least until we can see better when the light improves as the moon climbs higher.”

“That’s fine by me,” Helen replied. “I don’t like bouncing about; it just seems to be wrong.” Then after looking about her, added. “Look over there to the left in the valley, I can see lights, and look, you can see a car or something on the road.”

“Never mind the lights, concentrate on what’s in front, I’m busy looking at the slope on my right. You're supposed to be helping me.” Then to soften the rebuke added, “You're not just a pretty passenger you know.”

“Oops! Sorry! ... Your co-pilot’s in trouble again. Which reminds me, you had better teach me how to fly, just in case we have an emergency?”

“An emergency... what sort of an emergency can you envisage that would require you to take over the flying. I don’t mean anything disrespectful you know, but this is night flying at its extreme. I’m not good enough for it, let alone a complete beginner, and though it’s highly stressful, I’m hardly likely to have a heart attack whilst flying.”

“Yes but you never know,” she replied. “You may get shot... or you may fall asleep.”

“If I fall asleep then give me a nudge, I’ll soon wake up,” he replied with a laugh.

The tension of the take off had now left them and this cheerful banter between them continued for some time. Progress was good and several miles were behind them though they had been loosing height and gradually getting lower into the valley. Visibility ahead gradually improved with the rising moon though this was occasionally hindered as a cloud passed before it, then the dark came back with vengeance. These light clouds weren’t really so thin. It was all very tranquil in the moonlight with a gentle breeze blowing over them; they relaxed and began to enjoy the flying. During this period Helen, with her hands on the control bar, began to get a feel for the glider. She was however getting a crick in her neck with having to look forward, whilst Peter continually watched the ground below and the mountain to his right. They had been in one of the dark periods for some time and Helen was tilting her head to one side trying to alleviate the crick in her neck whilst casting the odd glance at where the moon should reappear from behind a cloud. As she turned back to look in front she noticed a grey area ahead which quickly materialised into something more solid. Suddenly everything changed.

“Lookout! There’s something right in front,” she shouted whilst twisting and craning her neck to look upwards. “It’s a cliff face, and it goes right up.”

“Okay! I see it we’ll have to go around.” They banked round to the left and immediately began to lose height quickly. “What’s it like below, we may have to land? Can you see any clearing?”

Helen scanned the ground quickly but there was nothing, “No! Nothing, just trees, no clearing, how about nearer the cliff face though.”

“Not yet, I won’t fly over there yet. There’s may be a down draft near the face of the cliff, we have to get around this shoulder first, their may be lift on the other side. Get ready to take your feet out of the slings just in case.”

Right on queue the moon cleared the cloud. Peter pulled the control bar back slightly and they increased speed over the ground, now clearly visible in the moonlight. The ground was now approaching at an alarming rate as they flew down and across the slope with trees ever closer, flashing by a few feet below them. Quite suddenly the trees ended. It gave them another five metres clearance but now they were over boulders with scree in close to the face of the cliff. Again the light faded as Helen, desperately looking for some clear place to land, began to take her feet out of the sling, Peter got both his feet down whilst banking the glider even further to the right to get in closer to the cliff face where there were less boulders and the ground dropped away a little. Helen had managed to get one foot out of the sling, in anticipation of landing on the scree, but her other foot was caught up. They were still going fast when Peter began to flare the glider by pushing forward on the control bar. He saw the boulders beneath them come to an end but at the same time they both felt the glider shoot upwards. Helen glanced to the right and saw the cliff face going past the wing tip vertically; they were going up like an express lift. She tried to get her foot back in the foot loop whilst looking to the front. The cliff face was there also, dark and menacing, and even to their left more cliff face. They were hemmed in; the only place open was behind them!

“We’re in a blind cut! A dead end! The only way out is back,” Helen shouted almost in panic. “Can we turn round?” They were still going up fast but with very little room to manoeuvre.

Peter was craning his neck trying to look above them, when he pushed the control bar way over to the right, banking the glider hard to the left as they tried desperately to circle around.

“I hope there's no overhanging buttress,” he yelled. “I can’t see what’s above, but at least we’re gaining height.” Clouds cleared the moon again and visibility was restored only to emphasise their predicament and high light the dangers. The rock face was flashing past them only a few feet from the tip of the sail, they passed the entrance and headed back into the cut again before Peter realised it. With the glider banked over so much he was able to see above them some of the time, but this showed only a cliff face going straight up. ‘This is frightening,’ he thought. ‘It was all right to get lift from rising air currents, but we’re literally flying a wall of death in here. If we touch the side, any part of the cliff face, then all will be lost. Both of us would end up in a broken heap at the bottom.’ After passing the entrance for the second time and entering the canyon yet again he resolved to fly out through it next time he saw the entrance. There it is! He could just make it out in the gloom when at the very last moment he changed his mind. Deciding to stay inside the blind crevice of a canyon and do another circuit. There may be a complete reversal of wind outside the entrance which could send them down just as quickly as they came up. This would surely smash them on the rocks far below. They had already experienced this reversal just before inadvertently flying through the entrance.

Helen had gone beyond being frightened; she was excited with the buzz of adrenaline and experienced a pain in her ears, she cleared it by forcing a yawn. The cliff face was still rushing by, then the entrance again. She lost count of how many times they went round and couldn’t remember the number of times they passed the entrance. The moonlight, like a strobe as it flicked around the wings, shone right in through the entrance and illuminated the whole of the crevice. ‘Why doesn’t he pull out through the gap,’ she wondered. When for the second time her ears began to hurt and again she had to yawn to clear them. ‘How incongruous,’ she thought. ‘To be hanging here, terrified, swirling round and round and yet needing to yawn. It must be an indication of the height gain.’ They were in a vortex of rising air up this sort of chimney and still going up. Suddenly it came to her, she remembered, when she had last heard that word ‘la chimenea’ (the chimney). Yes! That’s a good name for it. It’s like a chimney with a split right down one side.

At last, Peter noticed, the canyon was beginning to open out and he was able to reduce the bank of the glider. They began to level out but this increased their rate of climb and quite suddenly they popped out of the top into clear air. No cliff faces near them, only the mountain rising up away on their left with the moon shining over their right shoulder. ‘We’re heading the wrong way! And I still have my feet down.’ It was only a matter of moments for Peter to correct this and turn the glider to fly over the crevice which gave them even more lift. This encouraged him and he turned yet again to put in another two full circles above the maw of the crevice. “Wow! what a wild ride that was, how we managed to survive that without hitting the side is a miracle, we must have gained four or five hundred metres in less than five minutes.”

“Five minutes! Only five minutes you think, it felt more like a life time,” gasped Helen. Who hadn’t recovered as quickly from the ear-popping climb. “My whole life passed before me, we kept on going round and round. Why didn’t you fly us out of the entrance?”

“I thought about that, but decided against it, there was probable a down draft or, at the very least, a lot of turbulence near the entrance.”

Helen who hadn’t fully appreciated their danger was recovering quickly. “Whilst we were in there Peter, I remembered where I had heard of this place, when we were going up the road in the back of the lorry on the way to the prison. It was after we stopped to eat on that last day; one of the guards was looking up at the mountain and said ‘la chimenea el humo’ (the chimney was smoking). I thought at first he was referring to a volcano but then I saw a white cloud above a grey cliff. It must have been that cliff, when conditions are right the damp rising air condenses as it gets to the top forming a cloud.” She paused for a moment to gather her thoughts. “That means we have travelled about fifteen to twenty miles down the valley because it took us nearly another two hours in the lorry before we had to get out, and then we had that steep climb before we got to the prison.”

“Yes! You’re right. I think we’ve travelled maybe fifteen miles or so. It’s very deceiving in the dark though, it’s easy to over estimate the distance. If we can keep this up we will be a long way from the prison before they discover we’re missing.” Then as an after thought he added. “As long as they don’t already know we’ve escaped.”

“Oh! I don’t think they now yet, I didn’t see any activity after we left. Peter! How much height do you think we gained in that chimney?”

“I don’t know. Some where four hundred meters or so I should think... enough to give us a few more miles away from the prison... I wonder if flying that chimney has ever been done before.”

“Definitely not! No one would be daft enough. This is not really a hang gliding type of country. I get the impression it would be frowned upon by the authorities,” then she added, “You could claim an entry in the Guinness book of records for achieving it though.”

“Hey! We achieved it, not me. We both flew that chimney... remember!”

They were now heading out to continue down the valley whilst riding the air currents coming over the top of the cliff. They rode this up draft until the cliff became a slope and the updraft petered out beneath them when they found themselves once again traversing the mountain slope. They had to lose height to maintain enough speed to fly; always there was this trade off between flying speed and height. The moon was well up now, visibility was good, and Peter estimated they had been flying for over two hours. If they managed another hour or so then the prison would be at least twenty five probably thirty miles behind them. And that, he thought, was good by anyone's standard. It would then be about 4 o’clock. They would need about an hour to pack up the glider and start into the rain forest before the locals woke up at dawn, which was sometime between 5 and 6 o’clock. The time seemed to be okay just as long as his estimates where correct. Having to manage without a watch was a real pain. Not one of his fellow prisoners had been able to acquire any sort of time-piece, even Helen had not had any luck on that score. Again he began to relax, by this time however the moon was high enough and they could see any dangers that may occur in plenty of time to avoid them and even what the layout of the land was like ahead.

We won’t get a better time than this thought Helen, so here goes. “Peeteeer!” deliberately dragging it out, “would you let me fly for a moment, just so I can get a feel for it. You don’t have to take you're hands off, but just relax a bit and let me take over... Pleeease!”

“Well! Okay! But look, we are not on a pleasure trip, so no sharp moves, just try and feel it. Take note of the wind in your face, and how it affects things. Remember we still need to keep as much height as possible. Every foot lost is another foot we have to climb later.”

He looked over and noted that she had hold of the control bar and relaxed his grip, just keeping his fingers in touch. “Okay! You have it,” he said. At first there was little movement, then Helen began to experiment slightly, first just a small movement back and the speed increased but they lost height more quickly. She corrected this by pushing gently forward and held it for a moment then pushing further forward noted how the speed bled off as they climbed a little but the glider became unsteady, it just didn’t feel right. Again she corrected, this time pulling back to the original point, nothing much happened and it still felt unsteady. Instinctively she did the right thing and pulled further back to increase the speed again before bringing it back level.

“It’s very sensitive isn’t it” she said, “it only needs a small adjustment to change things, I thought it would be... well! Slower and more stable.”

“Actually it is stable” Peter replied. “I didn’t design the wing with a high aspect ratio as that made it more critical and needed a stronger wing, it was better to have the stability rather than being able to sore and have a lot of lift, especially it being made out of bamboo.”

Helen was now experimenting with banking the glider first to the right by moving the bar to the left a little, nothing happened at first so she pushed it further, then it turned quickly towards the mountain-side. Peter was just about to take over when the bar was pulled back and pushed to the right, again their was a delay before the glider turned back to the left and he was pleasantly surprised to see how she caught the turn and brought the glider on to course. Now it was a case of just holding it steady for a while with minor changes to the control bar. Slowing up a little and trying to reduce the sink rate but keeping enough speed for control. Allowing the glider to drift a little closer to the slope and pick up more lift. Helen became more and more confident, she began to appreciate the delay before it turned and how to balance the speed and lift.

Peter pretended to relax more. “You know, you appear to have every thing under control, maybe I will have that sleep we were talking about earlier”.

“Don’t you dare,” she replied, pretending to be cross. “I need you to keep a lookout ahead; you’re not just a passenger you know.”

They continued in this manner for a while, gradually loosing height but making steady progress down the valley. Always putting more miles between them and the prison they had just left. The mountain slope on their right, interspersed with steep cliffs, occasionally gave way to flatter areas where they lost the lift that the breeze was generating up the slope. They were flying over one of these flat areas and had little height left with Helen was still flying, trying to get the most distance for the least height lose.

“I think I had better take over now. We will have to land soon whilst we have a clear space.”

“Okay! You have it,” she replied, after checking that he had his hands on the control bar. But very soon they drifted over a small rise in the ground and gained a little more height.

“I’ll squeeze a bit more out of her, whilst we fly down towards the road but we don’t want to cross it.” They continued flying down and across the gentle slope of several fields, but in the end gravity won. “That looks a handy field ahead and there's a good hedge between it and the road, so we’ll put down there,” he whispered. “We need the under carriage down so get your feet out of the slings, then as we touch down you will have to run forward for a few steps... Okay!” They were very low now just a few feet up when he pushed forward on the control bar, the glider hesitated, settled and they required only a few paces before standing still.

They had landed in a field close to the dirt road that the truck had used when they were first brought to the prison. The dirt road was the main ‘highway’ up the valley and only yards away, though fortunately it was little used at this time of the night. All was very quiet, quickly climbing out of their harness, hardly a spoken word passed between them after landing and then only in whispers when it was necessary. Though both were elated at the success of the escape and the first flight the tension between them had crept back now that they were down. Peter was punched the air with excitement and relief whilst Helen, just wanted to shout and let off steam. Instead she walked over to Peter and threw both arms around his neck and kissed him full on the lips.

Peter was so surprised he didn’t have time to respond before she pulled back a little. “Thank you Peter, thank you for getting me out of that hell hole.”

“No! Thank you for putting your trust in me. That must have taken a lot of courage,” he replied, as he lent forward and gave her a kiss in return. Much as they would like to continue they both realised that silence and speed were their best allies.

It took them an hour to dismantle the hang-glider in the moonlight, carefully roll it up and bag it ready for carrying. Peter sat on the grass, taking of his sandals and put on socks then his boots before commenting. “Now that feels good, they still fit me, I was a bit concerned that my feet may have spread without the support of shoes these last few months.” Helen, too, sat down and pulled her hiking boots out of her pack. The same boots that she had buried two months before. “How in hell did you manage to keep these boots from rotting whilst they were buried? I must admit I was worried in case they had been eaten or gone mouldy. I had visions of you trying to walk in those little red shoes, but these!” he said, picking them up and looking them over. “These are excellent, they survived well.”

She didn’t answer at first, just slipped of her sandals, put the socks back on before fitted her boots and placed the sandals in her pack. “I put them in a plastic-bag, as you recall it was pretty dry up there so they would hardly go mouldy.” Some how frostiness had come between them since landing.

‘That’s good,’ he thought. ‘We should be able to make some progress even if we damage the glider; at least she has decent footwear for walking.’ Whilst she was lacing her boots he fished around in his pack for some length of rolled up canvas, he handed Helen two pieces. “Wrap these around your ankles, to protect your legs from snake bites in the forest.”

Peter did the same, wrapping his ankles and shins then stood up and felt in his pocket for a small plastic-bag. He started walking around the site gently shaking it.

“What on earth are you doing,” she exclaimed, tucking in the last of the canvas bandage.

“Pepper!” He held up the small bag before putting it in his pocket. “Ground dried peppers, to dissuade those dogs if they find our jumping off place for the climb,” he explained.

At the mare mention of the dogs a shiver ran down her spine and she looked around quickly half expecting to see a great big snarling beast running towards them. Quickly standing up she stamped her feet to get things comfortable. Neither felt like waiting around any longer this near to the road, so when the last peg and piece of rattan were packed away they put the cross belts over the glider. A quick lift and the belts went over their heads resting on their shoulders. In addition to the hang-glider they each had to carry their own back packs. With these hung over the other shoulder they set off across the pasture to climb up towards the line of trees which marked the lower fringes of the rain forest.

Helen was leading with the lighter front end of the glider. Peter some ten feet behind was carrying the thinner end of the main bamboo poles but in addition had more of the sail and the poles of the ‘A’ frame. At first they found it difficult walking, the glider bounced about each step they took, it was only when they walked in step that things became easier.

“Helen if you take slightly bigger strides and I reduce mine maybe we can stay in step and reduce this bouncing.”

“Okay” she replied, “but we won’t be able to do that when going through the undergrowth and bush. It looks like its going to be a steep climb, I’m glad the sun isn’t up yet.”

“If you head directly for the tree line; that will get us away from the road then we can turn to the left skirting the trees and look for some sort of a path. We’ll be close to cover if we need it and we’ll be in dark shadow from any eyes on the road.”

After half an hour they had covered a mile or so keeping close in under the edge of the forest before the tree line dipped down in front of them. In all this time they hadn’t seen or heard anything on the road but they still didn’t want to stray near it again as the later it became, the nearer to dawn and the more chance of traffic on the dirt road. Rather than go down with the tree line, which would also lose them height, they looked for a path or a break in the undergrowth. A short search revealed nothing the only alternative they decided was to fight their way into the forest.

“A moment if you don’t mind,” said Helen, putting down her small pack and bending over it with some difficulty. She had to kneel down instead, and was busy fishing inside, pulling something out. Peter became a little impatient as he realised that at the moment they were still rather exposed in full moonlight and was provoked into a sarcastic comment.

“I hate to hurry you along but now is not the time to be looking for your lipstick.”

“Lipstick indeed... I hardly think this belongs in my make up bag,” she replied, pulling the leather sheath off the brand new machete which flashed in the moonlight.

“Good god!” he exclaimed. “Where in hell did you get that from?” He quickly lowered his end of the glider, slipped off the cross belt and went up to have a closer look.

“That's right! ... Hell indeed! That’s what that prison was. Gina gave it to me, you know little Gina, the one with...” and she put her cupped hands under her breasts for emphasis.

“Yes I know Gina, the one well in with the guards. But why? ... Why would she give you something like that? Hell! If you had been found with it...” And he left the rest of the sentence unsaid as he took the machete from her and tested the balance.

“She told me where it was last night before I left, it was hidden in the bamboo store and I picked it up on my way across. Oh! But she promised it to me a couple of weeks ago. When I told her I was going to escape, apparently it ‘disappeared’ when she helped unload the truck.”

“You told her two weeks ago! About the escape, how did you know that she wouldn’t tell the guards?”

“Oh come on now, how did you know that Drew or one of the others wouldn’t split on you? That’s being a bit of a male chauvinist to presume that you men are the only ones with loyalty. Those women want to get out of there just as much as the men you know.”

“Okay! Okay!” he said, “How many more of the women know of this escape?” At the same time checking the edge of the blade with his thumb.

“Careful, it’s very sharp. I didn’t tell any of them how we were going to do it, ‘for their own good’ I said, but I did tell big Maria, and Gina also told Angelina. But that's all, honestly! I warned all three of them not to tell anyone else. Besides how do you think I got these jeans? Angie gave them to me, even my size... nearly. Though I don’t know how she got them, I thought it best not to enquire too closely. And Maria stole this shirt for me. She even washed it first. Anyhow most of the women knew something was afoot but not when, as I suppose the men did.”

He stepped back a little and looked at her. “Well I see the shirt isn’t Maria’s, but I thought you had begged, borrowed or stole the things you needed, not that you’d had a sort of baby shower.”

With this comment she blushed and her lips tightened. Peter gulped as he realised, in his excitement at the discovery of the machete he had been totally crass.

“Right! ... Hold it! ... Hold it right there. This is the last time we have any of this bloody male chauvinism Peter, I was a bit ‘pissed off’ with it last night, but then I put it down to the tension. We're in this together... Remember!”

Peter physically recoiled and reacted visibly to the strong use of his name and the language. It made him angry. ‘What right did she have to jeopardise the escape? To risk both their lives, how typical of a woman to gossip about something so important.’ He paused and took a couple of deep breaths, when quite suddenly it dawned on him. ‘She has every right, they were in it together. It isn’t my project any more, in fact it never was my project. She probably has more reason to be afraid than me. They could hurt a woman just as easily as a man and do a lot worse. Why should I think I could judge peoples loyalty any better than she can? Because I’m a man! Are men more loyal than women?’

She was at first alarmed at his reaction, having deliberately used his name in close junction with the bad language as an opening gambit to shock him. She had not anticipated the result. Watching with some trepidation, as all the subsequent emotions chased each other across his face she tried to anticipate his final reaction and failed.

His anger left him just as quickly as it had come and a smile began to play around his mouth. She was right again, and of course he was in the wrong. ’Come now be man enough to admit it.’... “Sorry! You’re right, it was wrong of me... I’m not thinking very well. Let’s put it down to delayed shock or lack of sleep. Now we’d best get going into the forest before someone comes along. Can you use this thing?” He said handing back the machete. “And I don’t mean that in a chauvinistic way.”

He turned to go back to the rear of the glider again but she put out a hand to stop him. Now she realised she must quickly mend the bridge between them. “Yes! I used a machete a little in Africa, but it’s tiring, so we will have to swap places soon. Oh! And thanks for letting me come.”

Peter immediately realised she was offering a truce, his hand sought hers and he gave it a light squeeze. “Okay! Let’s get the show on the road again.” Then as he picked up his end of the glider, added. “We’ll get well into the trees before you start chopping with the machete, we don’t want to leave a trail visible from the road.” He then felt in his pocket for the plastic-bag and pulling it out gave a couple of shakes as they entered the trees. 

The going now became much more difficult, at first it appeared to be totally dark. But it was a testament to the human eye that after a few moments, the light of the ‘almost full moon’ filtering through the forest canopy, gave just enough visibility. Occasionally the eyes of some lucifugous creature flashed as a stray moon beam caught them and often they heard a few rustling noises as a nocturnal creature moved out of their way. For half an hour it was hard work as they continued pushing upward and to their left, picking up scrapes and scratches from the trees and undergrowth as they felt their way. The glider slung between them continually got in the way, until at last they stumbled on to their first ‘path’ or rather an animal track, but it was heading in the right direction.

“I read somewhere that the insects flew high at night, above the forest canopy, this allows the bats to catch them,” said Helen as she called a halt.

“It would appear that these insects didn’t read the same piece that you read... Or they did but didn’t fancy becoming the hors d’oeuvres for a bat.”

“Well these insects are taking great delight with my face and hands. It’s the only parts of me exposed. Back at the prison I fashioned a vale from some of that mosquito net and a thin pair of gloves, give me a moment.” Two minutes later and they were walking along the trail, Helen in the lead wearing what Peter called a ‘beekeepers’ hat.

The trail wound to and fro but lead mainly in the right direction so they stayed with it and made better progress. They appeared to have the mountain-side to themselves and hadn’t seen anything bigger than a mouse. The small amount of noise they were making was answered in turn by the forest with the odd noise from some frightened, unseen creatures whilst the occasional squawk from a bird disturbed their peace. Walking across a small clearing one moment, clambering and hacking through dense brush and scrub the next, the work was hard and their arms began to tire. They didn’t need the machete all the time, but when they did it was ‘a god send’.

Helen’s ‘vale’ kept on getting snagged but it appeared to keep most of the insects off her face. Peter meanwhile was suffering, with both his hands and face exposed to the insects that seemed to take a delight in the relatively hairless skin. He soon determined to make him self a ‘beekeepers’ vale and cover his hands at the earliest opportunity.

Whilst they were in one of these clearings having a few minutes rest and a sip of water, dawn broke. It came suddenly, one moment it was dark, the next a tinge of blue in the sky and then the full light of a clear day. And with the dawn the forest awoke accompanied by a dawn chorus. A screeching from one group of monkeys, answered by the toucans calling and the squabbling of a flock of macaws even the frogs joined in to welcome the new day. They could just see, across the valley to the West through an occasional break in the trees, an impressive view of the mountains tipped with pink floating on a sea of lingering mist that filled the valley which was obscured from view in the early dawn.

Altogether it was an arduous climb that early in the morning. They had been walking through the trees going up hill all the time for some four hours, slipping and sliding over fallen trees and dead leaves. Covered up as they were from head to toe it was hot and stuffy even in the morning air as they climbed with the rolled up glider, hanging in the cross belts on one side and their packs resting first on one shoulder then the other. The cross belts had been a great idea. They could never have carried the glider for half this distance without them. Even so raw patches were beginning to appear on shoulders and necks where the belts rested and on their hips where the glider rubbed. They had stopped every half hour or so and where now getting tired. A proper rest was needed, with food, drink, and sleep. But above all else they still needed height. Height was everything, the more height they had the safer they would be and the further they could fly the next night. At the moment it was still early, but they needed to gain this height before then the locals around here started work in the early dawn.

So far they had climbed over three hundred metres from the valley floor but to fly the hang-glider this evening they needed another three hundred. Even better if they could climb a thousand metres. It had perhaps been unwise to fly so low into the valley last night but with the moon up giving them visibility and that gentle breeze giving them lift, the devil had tempted them. To put even more distance between themselves and that prison had been too great to resist. Now they where paying for that lost height! The sun was getting higher in the sky and the insects were still buzzing. Humidity in amongst the trees and undergrowth was building and this was not helping. They where sweating profusely. Peter was about to call a halt yet again, though it had only been twenty minutes since the last break. It was bad enough for him and couldn’t imagine how Helen was managing when breaking trail. He could see the damp patch on the back of her shirt getting larger with every step she took as she occasionally swung the machete whilst still carrying the front end of the glider. Another bush, another boulder, and another fallen tree to clamber over, suddenly Helen froze in mid step, her free hand raised to signal the stop. She turned and in hushed tones asked. “Can you hear anything? It sounds like children's laughter or something.”

Peter strained trying to isolate the sound from all the other forest noises. Yes! There was something but it was too constant, like a continuous chuckle, running water! Maybe there was a stream some way ahead. “Water!” he replied. “There must be running water, perhaps a small water fall ahead, lets keep on going till we get to it, then we’ll stop for a short rest and maybe a drink.”

With the prospect of a rest and a refreshing drink of cool mountain water in mind they pressed on with more vigour. Some minutes later and they were rewarded as the trees and bushes thinned out giving way to the sight of water tumbling over rocks. A sigh of relief, packs dropped on the ground, the glider carefully laid to one side, and they where down on hands and knees to drink their fill. Peter plunged his head under a spout of water and found out how cold it was when water ran down his back and under his belt. He backed off spluttering only to see Helen with a big grin on her face, the machete still dangling from her wrist by its strap as she scooped handfuls of water, swallowed some and allowed the rest to pour down her front between her breasts.

“Careful now, you’ll catch a chill if you cool off too quickly, and please put that knife down before you do some damage.”

She was smiling, she had removed her ‘veil’ and hat and opened another button on her shirt which was now quite wet down the front. She rinsed the camouflage dirt off her face and hair and that impish twinkle was beginning to return to her eyes. Their spirits had been lifted with this fresh water, and here, where the trees were a little thinner, there was even a slight breeze wafting around. Peter was having difficulty keeping his eyes off her. She was looking better and better all the time. Her femininity which had been suppressed for so long was returning with every breath she took. Her breasts which she had flattened whilst in the prison were now pushing at the wet shirt-front. Her hair, now cut short, had bleached almost blond in the sun. Colour was coming back to her face and her lips were fuller, she was alive again. The adrenaline rush and excitement of the flight during the night, followed by the strenuous exercise of the climb had tired them both. But the freedom from ‘that place’ now coupled with the drink of cold clean water was doing wonders. She was blossoming from a beaten prisoner into a woman before his eyes.

“Do you think they will have found out that we are missing yet?” Helen asked.

“Well! Not yet, as you said earlier, there was no activity when we left, if Drew keeps his promise and does my work for me this morning we may not be missed until the afternoon count.” Then after a short pause. “It makes me wonder, why they did the count late in the afternoon, I mean, if some one is going to escape it is more likely to be during the night or even in the evening. So why leave the count until so late.”

“Perhaps they think that the greatest chance of escaping is greater during the day. But they probably don’t think anyone can escape, so it doesn’t matter when the count is done.”

“Yes, and if anyone does escape they will easily be caught,” he added with a smile.

“You will not get far in these mountains!” They both quoted Commandant Carlos together, then amid fits of laughter. “It’s nice to know that he will get a decent meal tonight.” This last comment brought a puzzled frown on Peters face.

“Come on now... he’ll be eating his words... or perhaps some humble pie.”

“Ahh! ... Yes! ... No, I some how don’t think Carlos will be eating humble pie. He’s more likely to be chewing the head of that Lieutenant of his.”

They had not been climbing straight up the mountain because it was so steep, but instead had been traversing mostly westwards as they climbed. This had eased the climb at the same time getting further away from ‘that place’. Now Peter was disappointed to see that they would have to turn and traverse to the East. There, just across on the other side of the creek, the ground gave way to massive boulders and further to the West between the thinning trees could be seen the face of a sheer cliff. “We will have to reverse our traverse and zigzag up this mountain, at least until we get above that cliff face.” He commented whilst indicating with a gesture to the ground ahead of them.

“You mean turn back and go East, I don’t like the idea of that, can’t we go along the foot of the cliff face, at least we would be putting more distance behind us.”

“True! But the top of that cliff would make a good launching point tonight, besides there are likely to be lots of boulders and loose scree along the bottom of that face. No! I think it’s better if we do a few zigzags. Now I’m afraid it’s time we got going again, we can put in another three hours climb and then like everyone else does in this country, we’ll take a siesta during the middle of the day.”

“Havens! You’re a slave driver Peter, another three hours!” she exclaimed, but nonetheless climbed to her feet and started picking up the packs. “You realise we didn’t sleep at all last night. I suppose I had better continue leading the way with the front of this thing.” She added, giving the glider a light kick as she picked up the machete.

“Hay! Careful, that thing will be the only thing between you and a big drop tonight.”

She turned her face away from him to hide the half smile that she was finding hard to suppress. This was an interesting game, playing the weaker woman and gently baiting him. She realised that she was obviously physically weaker, but mentally was not so sure and this tactic drew the very best from him, his protective instinct and leader ship where beginning to work overtime. She had already noticed the extra interest from him and where his eyes were wandering. It was for this reason that she had let the water wet her shirt front and noticed with some amusement the reaction that it received. So much had happened since the loss of her husband David and though the anger it generated was still with her and gave her strength, now the thought of his death rarely crossed her mind. When she tried to recall his face it was difficult to separate it from Peters.

Progress up the mountain was quicker after the short break. The forest was a little thinner and there were less insects flying around. Helen had discarded the ‘veil’ and rolled up her sleeves. Moral had improved, and for a short while, there was new bounce in their steps. Zigzagging, every ten minutes and taking the occasional animal track when the opportunity offered they progressed up the mountain. Walking and climbing was easier when the weight of the glider was on the uphill side so every time they turned they swapped it over, most of the time keeping the noise of the stream within hearing. It was not always so easy to turn as the length of the glider meant they had to find a small area cleared of trees. Sometimes when things became difficult they just turned themselves around and Peter would lead. When this way however, even though, it gave Helen a respite from swinging the machete, it put a lot more strain on her. She didn’t get the extra push from behind over the various obstacles and more of the gliders weight came to bear on to her shoulders. It was during one of these reverses that she stumbled, but by saving the glider from a heavy fall it meant she couldn’t save her self and received a bad graze on her right arm.

“Damn!” She exclaimed. “I’m sorry, I’m not very fit and I’m tired and now I’m bleeding, can we have another break?”

“Sure we can, but lets make it back to the stream before we stop and then we can have a drink again, I’ll have a look at that arm and maybe we could have a bite to eat.”

This was greeted, in a friendly tone but with a muttered. “Bloody slave driver.” Nonetheless she clambered to her feet and they pushed on. It was her own fault she was thinking, there he was in front, sweat running down his neck, wetting his shirt and running under his belt. She could smell his sweat, and that even mixed with the scent of the forest was heady but surprisingly pleasant. She was finding it more and more difficult to keep her mind on the job of the climb when Peter was in front. Every time she looked up from the ground there were those wide shoulders, strong brown arms reaching for handholds or swinging that damn great knife and those trousers stretched tight over his buttocks didn’t help either. ‘I’m beginning to lose control, soon I’ll be reaching to pinch his bum and that wouldn’t do at all, what would it do to my image? Come on girl get a grip.’ Then she smiled to her self as something came to mind. ’No! ... Get a grip on yourself lass not on that hunk in front... Good heavens,’ she thought, ‘stop this now, what you really need is a cold shower.’

The going now was becoming noticeable easier. The higher they climbed the less dense the undergrowth and the trees became sparse. Even the ground was not as steep so the traverse became less and sometimes they were able to head straight up hill. Peter was quite pleased with the progress they where making and even though he frequently had to ‘chivvy’ her along, she didn’t appear to be getting too upset by it. He was beginning to think the relation ship they had created between them was working well. The ground quite suddenly levelled out, they had lost the sound of the stream but as long as the sun filtering through the trees was over their left shoulder they were on course. A few minutes more and the trees thinned to nothing, they were on the top of an escarpment at the edge of a clearing, a small pond to their right which was drained by the stream and just beyond the pond further to the right another cliff with a waterfall tumbling onto rocks. A flock of brightly coloured squabbling macaws flitted from perch to perch in crevices on the cliff face and dipped their beaks in the stream. This gregarious splash of red and blue helped make it a beautiful place indeed.

Peter started to set down his pack and lower the glider to the ground. “Come on. Let’s have a look at that arm whilst we admire the view”.

A huge grin came over Helen’s face as she realised her prayers had been answered.

“What hear? ... No! ... Let’s press on to that waterfall... I want a Shower.”

* * *

Drew also had very little sleep that night, after the glider had left in such an alarming fashion the three of them had dismantled the dummy roof and stowed it in the roof void. He had then carefully gone round both Peters bunk and his own checking for any incriminating evidence, before finally turning in. His sleep was disturbed early not by the usual call, but by the sound of a motorbike climbing the hill fast. The only vehicles normally seen were the truck at the end of the week or the prison jeep, a motorbike was something new. It was such an unusual event that everyone awake took notice, and soon there was a face at every window. The gates were flung open and it wasn’t long before a solitary scramble bike roared into the compound to wake the rest of the prisoners. The rider dressed in army fatigues disappeared into the commandant's office.

Five minutes passed before they heard the summons to roll call. A very worried Drew and Miguel joined the others to be counted. This could only mean that Peter and Helen had been captured already, and many annoyed glances were cast his way.

The guards accompanied by the two dogs began the count, but when, in the women’s quarter’s, it came up short there was a distinct lack of banter amongst the prisoners. The count was repeated; meanwhile the count of the men also came up short. After both counts had been repeated for a third time the dogs were sent into the dormitories. A deathly quiet hung over the whole prison as the guard called for the following prisoners to step forward. Drew, Peter and on the women’s side Helen’s name was shouted out. Only Drew stepped forward. It was then only a matter of ticking everyone off against the list of prisoners before they were sure of who was missing. Ten minutes after the guard first reported the missing prisoners the commandant strutted out to the compound and a long harangue ensued interspersed with mixed threats and bribery. No prisoner stepped forward to volunteer an opinion.

Drew was now thoroughly confused, beginning to doubt that Peter and Helen had been caught, and when pieces of clothing were produced for the dogs to sniff and get the sent he became certain. Perhaps they were they looking for the exit point. But what had caused the visit of the motorcyclist? It was all a puzzle. The dog handlers first walked a circle around the outer perimeter, all to no avail. The dogs were then separated and one handler with his dog went down the road whilst the other team searched all the buildings of the prison. Drew was now completely mystified. If Peter and Helen had been captured why use the dogs, sniffing round for their scent, on the other hand if they hadn’t been captured why instigate the count. It didn’t make sense and he couldn’t account for it. He didn’t have long to wait however as he was soon dragged off to the commandants office and interrogated, viciously. But this he had expected when they were found to be missing, he had anticipated a beating and was prepared for it. Not that it made it any easier to bear. He revealed nothing, whilst continually repeating that Peter was there when he went to sleep and he had no idea where he was now. Later he was dragged outside and dumped beside the jeep in full view of the others. More prisoners were dragged inside including some of the women and interrogated one at a time. The selection appeared to be random but after a dozen or so prisoners had been removed with no satisfactory result the guards grew tired of the game, leaving them all standing in the open.

Two hours after he had arrived the messenger came out, remounted his bike and with a spurt of gravel from the rear wheel accelerated out of the compound, the sound quickly fading as he descended the hill.

Fidel heard of the ‘missing’ prisoners by mid morning, courtesy of the Army unit stationed near the head of the valley. A quick and acrimonious meeting with the Minister of the Interior ensued before he had a helicopter at his disposal and a letter of authority in his pocket. He was dismissed with Noberto’s words ringing in his ear. “Find them. Dead or alive, I don’t much care which.”

* * *

The water felt ice cold, both Peter and Helen had stripped down to underclothes before stepping under the waterfall, Helen had added her sandals to save her feet from the rocks. She had saved a tiny piece of soap from the prison, which she put on a rock close by. Now, she decided to go a little further and looked at Peter who was watching her. They made eye contact, Helen held his eyes focused on hers whilst unclipped her bra and threw it onto the grass behind. For maybe ten seconds neither moved, each focused on the others eyes before Peter broke contact as his eyes momentarily flicked downwards and returned. A big smile spread over her face as she turned away and Peter grabbed the soap before moving towards her, he began to rub soap all over her neck and back. She raised her arms above her head and he soaped under her arms. Then moving his hands further round he slowly soaped her breasts, under them, down to her waist and over her firm stomach. His hands moved lower but she dropped her arms and grasping his wrists restrained him. Then turning slowly around she placed her arms round his neck and pulling him towards her they kissed. She pressed her breasts onto his chest and could feel him rising to the occasion whilst he continued rubbing soap onto the small of her back then lower under the top of her panties. She put both arms behind her back holding his wrists and again restrained him. “No! Please Peter, no further; it’s too soon after David. I have to do something about his murder first. I have to get that bastard somehow, before I will feel free... maybe then, who knows?”

Peter, felling at first frustrated became annoyed. Why had she led him on like that only to say stop at that moment? Should I carry on? Should I encourage her a bit more? He sank down, then kissing her breasts and putting both hands around her thighs, lifted her up. She responded a little, the promise was there but the will was lacking. He realised then, this wasn’t the sort of relationship he wanted with this lovely, complicated, and intelligent woman. When! If! It happened he wanted it to be willing and free from both of them. He eased his hold and she gently slid down as his hands moved over her buttocks. Perhaps she was right; he also, felt there was unfinished business to take care of first.

They enjoyed rinsing the soap of in the waterfall, but neither had a towel so Peter started to wipe the excess water off her. First her hair, face and neck, shoulders and back, then as he moved his hands over her breasts she shuddered. Then down over her waist shaking his hands occasionally as he wiped the water off. At this point she could stand still no longer and hopped away from him, wiping the rest of the water off by her self. He just stopped and watched her bending over to wipe her legs. ‘She’s teasing me he thought, she’s doing this on purpose... But what the hell! I don’t mind, I could watch this show all day.’ At last she finished and stood up looking at him, wearing just a skimpy pair of wet panties and an impish smile, as if to say ‘now it’s your turn’. He deliberately puffed up his chest, and holding his stomach in raised his hands to run them through his hair, flicked droplets of water off his chest and arms then bent over to wipe his legs.

As he straightened up she was still watching and smiling. They both new what had happened, an unspoken promise had been made and accepted.

Still damp, they lay down side by side in the grassy clearing soaking up the sun and drying off. Peter checked the cut on her head and the graze on her arm both had stopped bleeding. A moment later he was propped on one elbow watching the rise and fall of her breasts as she lay back and breathed deeply. His eyes ran down over her curves to the white panties that were nearly transparent whilst they were wet. He was finding it difficult to control him self and turned away in frustration as slowly his other needs came to the fore.

“My stomach is rumbling, it thinks my throat's been cut, what have we got to eat in those packs?” Then without waiting for a reply he raised his hand. “Shush!” A pause, and together they said. “Helicopter”... “And coming up the valley,” he added. “Let’s get out of sight.” They jumped up, grabbed their clothes and packs and leaving the glider, ran over to the edge of the trees. Quickly they dressed, at the same time looking out for the helicopter. Helen saw it first.

“There it is, just above the edge of the cliff, out in the middle of the valley.”

“I see it,” Peter said. “It’s going up the valley... doesn’t appear to be searching. It’s probably a military one out for an exercise or something. We’d best get the glider in under cover as soon as it is out of sight... then we’ll see about those eats.”

They had decided before leaving, not to stick to a particular agenda but to acquire as much food as they could beg, borrow or steal and that they could get in their packs. It wasn’t likely there would be much difference though as the meals weren't exactly varied back at the prison. It took a few moments to lay out what they had using the bagged glider as a table. There were three tough sausages, two halves of the coarse bread loaves, four pieces of currant pastry, two apples and four raw carrots.

“Right you're in charge of the food Helen; if you left it to me I would eat the lot now and starve later.”

“Well we can’t do that,” she replied. “We’ve got to spin this out for several days or else take the risk of begging or stealing from the natives. I think we should have a sausage, a carrot and half one of those pieces of bread for now.”

“What! That’s no meal for a growing man,” he exclaimed, taking a bite of a carrot.

“Then stop growing,” the added with an impish smile, “You’ve done enough of that today.”

Peter spluttered and nearly choked on the mouth full of carrot. “And whose fault was that... A mans gotta do...and all that.” Then after a few moments thought. “What about pudding,” he said. “How about a piece of that pastry and an apple.”

She had known full well that he would complain and so had left a little room for negotiation.

“Peter this has got to last for several days you know... Okay, you can have a piece of pastry as well but no apple, they will keep for another day.”

He was content with the choice, not happy! But content. It was sensible to save the rest. With that he took one of the pieces of bread, broke it and gave her half. Then with the bread in one hand and a sausage in the other he lay back and started to masticate on the sausage. He used to hate this sausage in the prison, it was so tough and gristly he used to end up leaving half of it on his plate. The bread was hard and dry but at least they had plenty of water to wash it down. Today nothing was left. Then came the pastry, just currants between two layers of pastry, he picked at it, ate slowly and made it last. The sun was now high in the sky, he estimated it was past noon, and they hadn’t slept at all last night. So with their blankets on the ground lying side-by-side and using their packs as pillows they curled up and soon slept.

* * *

Fidel stepped out of the helicopter at the army base to find the prison commandant, who had been sent for was already waiting for him. There were no greetings and no hallos. Fidel was angry, annoyed that this fool had allowed two prisoners to escape and these two in particular. He came straight to the point.

“So Señor Carlos we are two prisoners short and how do you propose to make up the deficit. You and the lieutenant would fit the bill I think, you can certainly be spared from your present post it would seem.”

“My deepest apologies Señor Gamboa it would appear my guards have not taken enough care. I have already started a full search of the area but neither of the dogs has picked up their scant yet.”

Fidel faced the man glowering. “Neither of your dogs, I understood you have four dogs. Get the other two on the job immediately; no one rests until we have them, least of all your dogs.”

“I am...we have only two dogs now Señor Gamboa, the other two went over a cliff with two of the prisoners. The prisoners were trying to escape and jumped over a cliff.” Carlos paused when he saw the effect this had on Fidel, before lamely adding, “They all died.”

“I don’t care about the other prisoners I want those two which I put in your care. If I can’t have them then I will have you and your lieutenant instead. Do I make myself clear?”

“Si Señor, It cannot be long now, they cannot have got very far wearing only sandals with very little food and water. We will have them by nightfall I assure you.”

“You assure me! You assured me you could look after them. I paid you good money to keep them safe, not to let them roam all over the country.” Fidel turned away in disgust before he remembered his other reason for visiting this outpost of civilisation. He snapped back round, thrusting his face up close to Carlos. “The other one of the three, Señor Roband, you haven't let him go have you? Where is he?”

Carlos, his Adam’s apple working overtime, indicated the jeep behind him. “He is in the back of my jeep under a blanket Señor Gamboa.”

“Ah! So you have one of the three. You know what to do with him. Move him and the other two when you catch them... I don’t care what condition they are in but no bullet holes in the bodies. You understand!”

“Si Señor Gamboa.”

* * *

It was late when Peter awoke, the sun was well down, it was near sunset and there was already a slight chill in the air. They had a blanket over them and were curled up together, spoon fashion. His right arm was draped over Helen who was still asleep and breathing heavily. Suddenly he realised what had awoken him. He could hear a helicopter. They were lying in the shade and fairly well hidden so he just raised him self onto one elbow and watched for it. Yes! There it was, about the same height as before, it looked like the same one, coming down the valley this time. Then he became aware that Helen too was awake.

“It’s okay! Just the helicopter going back down the valley, you can see the sun reflecting off its blades. It’s no problem to us.” Then snuggling back down under the blanket he gave her a squeeze.

“What time do you think it is?” she asked.

“I don’t really know, about six’ish I suppose looking at the sun.”

“Well the helicopter has gone now don’t you think it’s time we started climbing again, whilst there is still some daylight left. I thought you wanted to get to the top of this cliff before jumping off tonight.” Then removing his hand from where it shouldn’t be and getting to her feet she stretched. “Oh! I feel so stiff, that ground is terribly hard I’ve got bruises all over my hips.”

She turned and bent down then with a quick movement flicked the blanket off him. “Come on, move, move,” whilst sticking a toe in his ribs.

He made a grab for her foot, missed, then rolled onto his back and looked up at the sky and the cliff face. “I suppose so! ... Is their anything to eat? I could eat a feast.”

“I suppose that sausage won’t last much longer, if we have that and half of the bread with some water now, it should keep us going for a while.” She started rummaging around, gathering them together.

“Oh! Woman,” he said with a smile. “What wicked ways you have. I ask for a feast and all you can offer is half a tough sausage and a mouth full of bread and water.”

“You know what they say... If you can’t take a joke you shouldn’t have volunteered.” Was her cutting reply as she chopped the sausage in half with the machete. “Now get this down you, then we can get packed and be on our way, climbing that damn mountain, over those damn boulders and through that damn undergrowth...”

The rest was left unsaid as he groaned and through a mouth full of bread muttered. “What a wicked woman though art to prod such an open wound.”

The banter between them continued for some time, whilst they packed things away and got ready to start. Peter decided, after looking at the cliff that they should try to walk along this ledge they were on. It ran to the West along the cliff face in the direction they wanted to go. Helen was leading again and no sooner had they walked round the first piece of projecting rock then they encountered problems. There appeared to be a way forward, though the ledge narrowed to about three feet wide, it continued along the face of the cliff as far as they could see to the next bend. They had to walk carefully. Helen was still in front kicking away some loose stones over the edge whilst hugging the cliff face. The ledge narrowed a little more but it was only when they arrived at the first bend they realised their problem. They couldn’t bend the glider around the bend!

“Put your end down, then walk on in front and see what it’s like around the bend, if it continues to look difficult we’ll turn back.”

Helen carefully put her end of the glider down and walked on around the bend out of sight, very quickly she returned. “No! It won’t work, we could get along on our own but not with the glider, we’ll have to turn round and go back.”

Peter didn’t argue. “Okay!” He said and started to turn around but it was difficult and they had to be careful. One false step and the glider and possible both of them would end up at the bottom of the cliff. They managed it however and some time later found them selves back at the waterfall. After a quick mouthful of water they set off again in the other direction. Peter, annoyed at him self to have wasted an hour or so, set a hard pace, common sense should have told him their way was not cliff climbing, they should stick to the slopes. The walking and climbing now became routine, it was similar to the morning’s climb zigzagging up the mountain and as the light began to fade the bushes thinned. There were still plenty of trees, but this wasn’t the problem, the slope gradually became steeper. It wasn’t long before they where having to put the glider down, climb up a bit then hoist it up after them and this was very tiring.

Helen was in front and stumbled onto her knees. “We can’t go on like this much longer... I’m exhausted already.”

“I was thinking much the same thing myself only we haven't got the energy to spare. We have a choice. We can go back down to the ledge and fly off from there, or we could try to push on a bit further. There's no wind at the moment so we can’t launch even if we do go back.”

“Right I vote that we stop and have the last of those pastries while we rest then push on for another half hour. If things haven't improved by then we turn back.” She new that she would win this vote with the bait of something to eat, so immediately started rummaging in her pack.

“Okay! Whilst you are having that rest I’ll just have a quick look a hundred yards ahead. Stay there, don’t leave the glider, I’ll be back in a minute.” Peter picked up the machete and with the pastry in his other hand walked on. Climbing slightly he occasionally put a blaze on a tree. After climbing for about twenty minutes he found his way blocked by a small rock outcrop. The thing to do was to get on top of the rock and spy out the land he thought. Maybe he could see something from there. It took him another ten minutes to work his way round it to the top, only to find the view disappointing, except over the valley. The rock was domed slightly on top and stood out about twenty feet from the slope but, with the machete and some hard work, it could make a launch pad, just! The sun had long since gone down and it was quite dark now but he had no difficulty finding his way back to Helen using the occasional blaze marks for guidance.

Meanwhile Helen had wrapped her self in a blanket and was dozing off with her anti insect ‘veil’ over her face when she heard him coming. She gave a shout, greeting him with obvious relief and pleasure. “Thank heavens you're back, I was beginning to wonder what to do, you only said a minute. How are things ahead?”

He told her. “Not too bad!” and mentioned the outcrop of rock that they may be able to take off from. After first putting the blanket away they picked up the glider and their packs before moving out. It had taken Peter about thirty minutes or so to get on top of the rocky outcrop and only twenty minutes to get back whilst unencumbered with the glider. Now it took five times as long, it was over two hours later when running with sweat and almost exhausted they eventually lowered the glider on to the top of the rock outcrop.

“It’s very small” she commented disappointedly. “Can we take off from such a small area? It doesn’t look wide enough; the wing tips will be touching the tops of these trees.”

“Ah! That’s where the machete comes in; we are going to make a short runway by chopping the tops of these trees and those in front. With the undergrowth chopped behind us, I think we could make about twenty feet or so. The night breeze is already beginning to pick up. Can you feel it blowing straight at us...? Now it’s all machete work clearing the area so you get your strength back for a few minutes whilst I start on the undergrowth.”

The rock outcrop was like a big boulder; his first task was to clear the bushes and low scrub at the back, behind the rock, where they would start their run. Their was a hollow between the rock outcrop and the slope, so after a short break Helen began to gather armfuls of cuttings from the bushes and proceeded to fill the gap. Peter then moved on to the sides, cutting off the tops of trees. After an hour of hard work they had filled the gap, it was very springy though and would be difficult to run on.

“I’ll go down in front of the rock and chop some of these small trees, then if I prop them up against the rock we can pull them up, strip their branches and lay the trunks across this gap.”

A few minutes later she heard him chopping away, the noise began to disturb her as the sound carried well in the evening air and it would probably be heard on the valley floor. At last he finished and soon the small trees where stacked against the rock. It needed both of them to pull the trees up one by one onto the top, but after they had finished this, stripped the branches and bridged the gap, they had a decent launch slope.

“It’s looking good now,” he said. “Nearly as long as that roof and we didn’t use all of that”.

“Please! Don’t remind me, I hope this time it won’t be so violent. I’ll tie the trunks of these small trees together so they won’t move when we run on them... Then we can start assembling the glider... How do you think we are doing for time?”

“Oh, the time’s Okay,” he answered. “Moon rise is forty minutes later tonight and there isn’t any sign of it yet. But whilst you tie those together I’m going to lop the top off that tree that is standing proud of the rest in front. I won’t be long,” and again he disappeared down the slope. She was busy weaving and tying the logs together and could easily hear the chopping as he set too work on the last of the trees. ‘He’s making a lot of noise,’ she thought, ‘they will certainly be able to hear it in the valley.’ Suddenly there was a loud snap followed by a yelp of pain.

“Peter, are you okay?” No answer! Again she called in a loud whisper, “Peter, are you okay?” She could not make out the muttered reply so decided to investigate and climbed down to him. He was sitting on the ground groaning and holding his arm, even in the poor light, the blood running down his arm was clearly visible. She picked up the fallen machete. “Come on now lets get you up on the rock so I can see to that arm. I’ll have to use my headscarf as a bandage.” And with that, took hold of his other arm and helped him climb back up.

It was now apparent to her that he had exhausted him self. Whilst she had taken an occasional rest, he had driven him self too much. The tiredness had caused him to make a mistake and injure him self. She took charge and prescribed half an hour of TLC. The night was beginning to get cool so after bandaging his arm with the headscarf she wrapped him in a blanket, threw a net over him and told him to rest.

She could see the last tree, still sticking up and decided to go down and move it. The tree was already cut through and only needed a few good hard pulls to bring it down. Leaving it there she climbed back up, only to find Peter, lying curled up in the blanket, fast asleep. Well if he needs the rest that much then I’d better leave him for a while she thought. With a few last tweaks of the log ties the launch ramp or ‘runway’ was complete. Helen jumped up and down on it to test it. How odd, ‘the runway’ is a much more appropriate name for it, it’s more suited than a runway at an airport she mused, looking around for the next job. Then made up her mind, she can’t put it off any longer and started to assemble the glider.

It was difficult moving it single handed. She couldn’t drag it much, as she was afraid of catching the cloth of the sail on the rough ground. Now! Can I remember how it all goes together she wondered? An hour later and she had managed to get most of it assembled but there were some bits and guys left over. The wind had picked up and was beginning to blow the glider around. It soon became apparent that if she continued something was going to get broken. Meanwhile Peter was still sleeping. Time to wake him she thought, pleased with the progress she’d made.

“Peter! Peter! Wake up.” She nudged him with a foot not wanting to let go of the glider. He groaned and rolled on his back, opening his eyes as he did so. For a moment nothing happened then suddenly he sat up with a jerk. “How long have I been asleep?” Then rubbing his arm he slowly climbed to his feet.

“Nearly two hours,” she replied. “But you must have needed to sleep you haven't had the occasional rest like I have. Anyhow the moon isn’t up yet but I’ve nearly assembled the glider as you can see however I have a few bits and pieces left, can you check it over.”

“You should have woke me before now it’s going to leave us late. Where are the bits left over,” he grumbled. Then going first to the nose then wing tips he inspected each joint. “We will have to tip it over... I can’t inspect the king post joints as it is, this peg is a locking peg for one of the joints and the others... they’re okay.”

With a great deal of difficulty they turned it over. The wind was threatening to pick it up and blow it away so they had to be careful. Sure enough the locking peg for the cap of one of the king posts was missing; he put it in place then inspected the guys and how they were attached. “I haven't touched those.” Helen said, a little resentful at the way he was going about things.

“Hmmm!” was all the answer she got. “Right lets turn it back, make sure it doesn’t take off and that we don’t tear the sail.”

“What are you so upset about?” she asked as she pulled the nose down. “What have I done wrong now? Apart from missing that peg out.”

“Oh! No, it’s not that, don’t bother about me. Sorry! I’m just upset to discover that I’m not as indispensable as I thought. Considering that you have only seen it already assembled once before you’ve done a great job. Now all we need do is tighten up the main centre joint and tension the guys that’s what these bits are for.”

“Perhaps that’s a testament to your design then.” she retorted, whilst holding the nose down and still a bit sore at his attitude. “The fact that it’s easily assembled indicates that you did it well.”

“Touché! That was a bit condescending don’t you think. I’m a little sleepy. I’m always bad when I wake up. I’ve had a put down, and now you come along and slam the lid on it.”

With this she burst out laughing, sat down and put her head in her hands. “Oh! Poor me, poor me, it’s not my fault I fell asleep and woke up all grouchy.”

Peter looked at her and a sheepish grin spread over his face. “Gee! Am I really that bad, that transparent?” This was greeted with more giggles as she turned her face towards him, peeking at him between her fingers. He was now at a loss how to continue, she was so disarming in this mood, if he hadn’t been holding the glider he would have jumped on her and had a play fight, then who knows where that would have led? As it was he was left ‘holding the baby’ the best he could manage was to declare that the glider was ready to fly. “Right! It’s ready, come on get up off you're pretty butt, we haven't got all night. I can see traces of the moon rise across the valley.”

She jumped to her feet and whilst Peter held the glider she went round the sight picking up their gear and packing it away. It was beginning to get a little chilly, much colder than the previous night she thought, pulling out her spare sweater and not noticing that she had also pulled out the machete in its leather sheath. The sweater went over her head and whilst she was pulling it down Peter stopped breathing for a moment. She looked great as her figure came into silhouette against the lighter sky. He was still staring when she had finished.

“Okay! Shows over,” she said, with that impish grin spreading across her face, when she noticed where he was looking. “How about you, are you going to be warm enough?”

“Oh! Don’t bother about me. I’ll put a sweater on whilst we are flying if I need it, I don’t feel cold at the moment.”

This provoked a stunned silence and a long stare as Helen tried to imagine what it would be like and how he could possibly manage to get a sweater on, whilst lying prone in the harness as they flew the glider. She was at a bit of a loss for words until she saw the beginnings of a smile around the corner of his mouth. He could hardly contain the grin.

“That sounds about as difficult as me trying to have a pee whilst we are flying.” She retorted quickly, trying to get her own back. Then she realised what she had said and suddenly vivid images of them in this situation occurred to both of them at the same time. The both burst into guffaw’s of laughter. Peter sat down on the nose of the glider whilst holding his sides. Helen bent over at the waist and heaved trying to catch her breath. The release of tension for both of them was surely needed before this their second jump off. It was some time before they gained some form of normality, even then, whenever they looked at each other they started laughing again.

“Enough! That’s enough of all this silliness, the moon has risen it’s time we were on our way.” Then he couldn’t resist adding. “I’ve just got to go behind that bush first though.”

She was still laughing whilst putting on her harness when he got back. Shortly after they were both fastened on and picking up the glider backed up to the bushes.

“Ready? “ A nod from Helen. “Then take six strides and a dive forward. I’ll try and keep the nose down this time and we will see if we can do it properly...go!”