He flung up his stem.
Throb, throb, throb--pause--throb, throb--he set his teeth, his face into
an involuntary grimace, and crash! He struck it! He struck upward beneath
the nearer wing.
Very slowly the wing of his antagonist seemed to broaden as the impetus
of his blow turned it up. He saw the full breadth of it and then it slid
downward out of his sight.
He felt his stem going down, his hands tightened on the levers, whirled
and rammed the engine back. He felt the jerk of a clearance, the nose of
the machine jerked upward steeply, and for a moment he seemed to be
lying on his back. The machine was reeling and staggering, it seemed to
be dancing on its screw. He made a huge effort, hung for a moment on the
levers, and slowly the engine came forward again. He was driving upward
but no longer so steeply. He gasped for a moment and flung himself at the
levers again. The wind whistled about him. One further effort and he was
almost level. He could breathe. He turned his head for the first time to
see what had become of his antagonists. Turned back to the levers for a
moment and looked again. For a moment he could have believed they were
annihilated. And then he saw between the two stages to the east was a
chasm, and down this something, a slender edge, fell swiftly and
vanished, as a sixpence falls down a crack.
At first he did not understand, and then a wild joy possessed him. He
shouted at the top of his voice, an inarticulate shout, and drove higher
and higher up the sky.
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