Rider looked even more worried. 'Hauling a heavy weight to one side like that is going to have a hell of an effect on stability.' He rubbed his chin. 'I reckon I could do it though.'
'What would you reckon to do once you got down?' asked Fallon.
'If Rider will tell me how much clear ground he needs to land the chopper, I'll guarantee to clear it. There might be a few stumps, but he'll be landing vertically, so they shouldn't worry him too much. I'll do it -- unless someone else wants to volunteer. What about you. Dr. Halstead?'
'Not me,' he said promptly. He looked a bit shamefaced for the first time since I'd met him. 'I can't swim.' Then I'm elected,' I said cheerfully, although why I was cheerful is hard to say. I think it was the chance of actually doing something towards the work of the expedition that did it. I was tired of being a spare part.
I checked on the operation of the saw and the flame-thrower and saw they were fully fuelled. The flame-thrower produced a satisfactory gout of smoky flame which shrivelled the undergrowth very nicely. 'I'm not likely to start a forest fire, am I?' I asked.
'Not a chance,' said Fallon. 'You're in a rain forest and these aren't northern conifers.'
Halstead was coming with me. There was so much weight to be put into the helicopter that there could be only two passengers, and since it was going to be a job for a strongish man to attach the gear to the winch cable and get it out of the helicopter Halstead was chosen in preference to Fallon.
But I wasn't too happy about it. I said to Rider, 'I know you'll be busy jockeying this chopper at the critical moment, but I'd be obliged if you'd keep half an eye on Halstead.'
He caught the implication without half trying. 'I operate the winch. You'll get down safely.'
We took off and were over the site within a very few minutes. I waggled my hand in a circle to Rider and he orbited the cenote at a safe height while I studied the situation. It's one thing to look at photographs on solid ground, and quite another to look at the real thing with the prospect of dangling over it on the end of a line within the next five minutes.
At last I was satisfied that I knew where to aim for once I was in the water. I checked the nylon cord which was the hope of the whole operation and stepped into the canvas loops at the end of the cable. Rider brought the helicopter lower, and I went cautiously through the open door and was only supported by the cable itself.
The last thing I saw of Rider was his hand pulling on a lever and then I was dropping away below the helicopter and spinning like a teetotum. Every time I made a circuit I saw the green hillside behind the cenote coming closer until it was too damned close altogether and I thought the blades of the rotor were going to chop into projecting branches.
I was now a long way below the helicopter, as far as the winch cable would unreel, and my rate of spin was slowing. Rider brought the chopper down gently into the chimney formed by the surrounding trees and I touched the water. I hammered the quick-release button and the harness fell away and I found myself swimming. I trod water and organized the nylon cord, then struck out for the edge of the cenote, paying out the cord behind me, until I grasped a tree root at water-level.
The sides of the cenote were steeper than I had thought and covered with a tangle of creeper. I don't know how long it took me to climb the thirty feet to the top but it was much longer than I had originally estimated and must have seemed a lifetime to Rider, who had a very delicate bit of flying to do.
But I made it at last, bleeding from a score of cuts on my arms and chest, yet still holding on to that precious cord.
I waved to Rider and the helicopter began to inch upwards, and slowly the cable was reeled in. I paid out the cord, and when the helicopter was hovering at a safe height, five hundred feet of cord hung down in a graceful catenary curve. While Halstead was no doubt struggling to get the load on to the end of the winch cable I got my breath back and prepared for my own struggle.
It was not going to be an easy task to haul over a hundred pounds of equipment sixty feet sideways. I took off the canvas belt that was wrapped around my middle and put it about a young tree. It was fitted with a snap hook with a quick release in case of emergencies. There was very little room to move on the edge of the cenote because of the vegetation-there was one tree that must have been ninety feet high whose roots wore exposed right on the rim. I took the machete and swung at the undergrowth, clearing space to move in.
