Story of the Phantom by Lee Falk

beautiful young daughter with golden hair-(Old Man Moze nodded to Kit's mother at this, and permitted himself a slight smile, which looked like a slow crack in old porcelain. Beautiful mother smiled graciously at the compliment.) It must be said they were surprised and frightened at the sight of this big masked stranger. (Beautiful mother nodded vigorously at that.) But he greeted them with his calm voice and assured them he was their friend and had come to aid them. And they were reassured and happy, for they had been afraid in the jungle night, and it is fortunate they had not suffered injury or death before this. Their luggage bearers had deserted them days before, being

    31

    afraid to enter this unknown part of the jungle.

    Then a curious thing happened, a thing such as one had never seen before. Ropes dropped from high above, from the great trees, ropes with loops on the ends, and dropped so swiftly and accurately about their shoulders and arms that the old man and his daughter were pulled up into the air before anyone knew. A rope had not fallen upon the Phantom, but he leaped to the girl's rope, and, clinging to it, was hoisted into the air with her. (That was scary, but thrilling," said his mother laughing.

    "Shh," said Kit, annoyed to have the narrative broken.) They were pulled high up, far above the ground so that their campfire was only a tiny flicker below, like a star. Up, up, up, into the leafy boughs that seemed to touch the sky. (Old Man Moze was very dramatic when he told this tale. His eyes flashed, his hands gestured like an actor.) High in the trees, they found themselves in a strange village, for that is what was there. A village like many another, save that it was built on platforms resting on heavy ropes among the high branches. Yes, there were huts up there, and a clear place where the women pounded the nuts that made their bread, and where they carved their meat. They had no fire in this place for fear of destroying the trees, and ate uncooked meats. There were children there, and nursing mothers. And ropes were stretched from one platform to another, and the people walked on these ropes in an amazing and fearless manner. If one fell, as sometimes happened, there were ropes below to catch them.

    It was amazing to see men, women, and children perched like birds on the ropes so high in the air. A boy suddenly slipped and fell into the air as the captives arrived. He caught himself on a line below, laughing, and none but the captives even looked at him.

    While still hanging in the air on the rope of the girl, other strands were flung out at the Phantom, binding him securely, so that he could not use his weapons. On reaching the top, the weapons were taken from his belt. They were brought before the chief, who told them strangers were not permitted in this land of the Rope People. Trespassers were killed, by being dropped to the ground from this great height. A quick death, as if dropped from a cloud. But the chief and all the warriors looked at the Phantom with excitement, and with suspicion.

    "By your garb, you would pretend to be the Phantom, himself," said the chief, to the amazement of the Phantom who had never known the Rope People.

    "I do not pretend, I am," he replied.

    "How can you be, when you profess ignorance of us and our ways? And yet if you are truly the Phantom you would know us well."

    This puzzled the Twentieth but he did not question it. There was some mystery here. It was soon explained. The chief and leaders led him to a large hut. There on the wall were a series of drawings crudely done, as though by a child, not like the work of good artists. But the Twentieth clearly recognized the figures drawn there. There were four drawings of the Phantom. In the first, he stood on a poorly drawn elephant. In the second he was holding a great boulder over his head. In the third he was running, pursued by warriors with spears. And in the last he faced a man twice his height, a