The summer holidays had come at last, and, saying good-bye to hot, dirty, old London, Sixer Billy Kemp had gone off to the Isle of Wight with his father and mother and big brother. He was sorry to leave the Pack, of course. But before he went he promised his Cubmaster that during the holidays he would not let himself forget for one moment that he was a Cub. He would always do his best at whatever he was doing; he would find ways of doing good turns for other people, and he would not give in to himself, and be selfish with his boats and his spade and water-wings; but would let the children he played with on the shore use them.
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It was the first holiday he had had since joining the Pack; and he found that one enjoys oneself much more when one has these cubby ideas. All the little boys and girls he played with thought no end of him, because, for one thing, he was so kind, and for another, he never seemed afraid of anything. You see, he had only to say: “A Cub does not give in to himself,” and it became almost easy to do the hard thing. For instance, when the sea was very rough and the waves knocked you down, it was very frightening to go in, and most of the children gave up bathing that day. But Billy faced the waves, and his big brother Jim was proud of him. Then, on very cold days Billy went in, as usual. And just because he never gave in to himself, he managed to learn to swim and float, those holidays. When one of the men dared him to jump off the diving-board, right out in the deep water, he set his teeth and did it. And, as to walking on the stones with bare feet—you would have thought he liked it! He even used to carry his very small friends across, because the stones hurt their feet.
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This story is about a wonderful adventure which befell Billy through his habit of doing things that other boys were afraid of.

Billy’s brother, Jim, a boy of seventeen, was mad on flying. He hoped some day to be an airman. His great hobby was making kites, and he spent all those holidays making the most wonderful great kite any one had ever seen. It was made of dark brown canvas and bamboo rods. It was eighteen feet long, and he had named it the Eagle.
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When, at last, it was ready, Jim set out with Billy and a dozen of his friends, to let her up for her first flight. Jim carried the precious roll of brown stuff. Billy shouldered the supple spars that fitted into pockets, and stretched the canvas taut. Another boy carried the great coil of strong cord, and everyone talked at the same time of what the Eagle would do on her first flight. Going along the rough, stony path that led from the village of Sea View towards Ryde, they were soon at a big, grassy stretch of low-lying land near the sea. A stiff gale was blowing from the southeast—it was a perfect day.

Spreading out the Eagle on the grass, Jim fitted in the spars, fastened the big hooks to eyelets, and made fast the cord. At last all was ready.

“She’ll take some holding!” he said, as he lifted the kite up, and felt the quiver and flutter of the great wings, as the wind touched them. So the boys formed up in a long line, and the rope was passed along from one to the other. Then Jim lifted the Eagle, and held her up as high as he could. For a moment she trembled, and then, a puff of wind catching her, she leapt up, out of his hold, and began to rise in swift swoops.

“Pay out the rope,” shouted Jim.

The boys let it run through their hands and Jim took his place at the end of the line.
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“I say, isn’t she ripping?” he cried. “I wonder what she’s pulling? She’d lift a good weight, I should say.” Suddenly an idea struck him. “I believe she’d take a passenger!” he said. “How glorious it would be to go soaring up with her! But I should be too heavy. She could easily lift one of you kids!”

The boys looked up at the kite, far, far above their heads in the blue sky. It made them feel dizzy to think of being up there. Then, to Jim’s surprise, Billy spoke.

“I’ll go up,” he said.

Of course Jim knew that he had no business to let his small brother do anything so dangerous. But he did long to show that the kite he had made, himself, was as good as an aeroplane.

“Will you, kid?” he said. “It would be quite safe. I wouldn’t let you go up very far. You would just have to hook your arm over the rope, and hang on tight.”

“Couldn’t he sit on the kite?” asked one of the boys.
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“No,” said Jim. “It would spoil her balance. We must haul her down as low as we can, and then he can go up on the rope.”

So they hauled and hauled, and little by little the Eagle came down.

Billy’s heart beat fast, but he was a Cub and would not show that he was afraid.

“Now,” said Jim, “put your arm over—that’s it! I won’t let you go more than about forty feet up. Now, let go a bit, boys.”

Suddenly Billy felt himself being lifted off the ground and carried swiftly up into the clear, sunny air. It was glorious—nearly as good as being an airman! He could feel the great kite throbbing and straini............