Книга только для ознакомления
. And as it tumbled closer, Chane and his allies
squinted at it. The contrivance seemed to have added
something since its last visit. Thrust upward from its top
side was a slim thing like a narrow mast.
Over the gorge, just out from the cove, the soarwagon
leveled out and its nose-vanes shifted. It hovered on ris-
ing mists while Bobbin leaned out to shout, "Get the sup-
plies ready! I've solved the problem!"
"What do you mean, you've solved the problem?"
Chess called back. "I worked all day on solving the prob-
lem."
"Hurry!" Bobbin tugged the control lines, ignoring the
kender, and eased the soarwagon toward the ledge. As it
had done before, the contraption began to tilt, aligning
itself to the slope of the mountain steeps above. Closer it
came, and closer, and the slender mastlike thing began to
extend from its underside, toward the cove. Chess and
the others could see what it was: Bobbin's rope. But
somehow it was stiff, snaking toward the ledge at an
angle.
"Hurry!" the gnome shouted. "And don't forget the
cider!"
Chess danced about the ledge, his eyes bright with ex-
citement. "Look at that! He's made the rope stiff. It's
coming right to us."
Bobbin worked his controls and continued feeding out
the rope, doing all he could to settle the soarwagon in
close to the ledge.
"How did you do that I" Chess shouted. "That's really
something! Come on! The raisins and cider are right
here, all lashed together
|
