If they should succeed in flying the kite into their midst, and there dropping it, it was not only possible, but highly probable, that it might either get the rope warped around one of them, or itself become caught between two, so as to hold fast.

To render this the more practicable, they had furnished its wings with spurs--in other words, they had left the cross-piece of bamboo to extend on each side about a foot beyond the edge of the paper; and near the end of each extension, they had placed other pieces transversely, and lashed them firmly--so that they might act as the flukes of an anchor.
They had spared neither pains nor ingenuity to ensure success.

They had done all, that man could do, to deserve it.
Fortune was so far favourable, as not to keep them long in suspense.
Only two or three days had passed, when one came, on which the wind blew in their favour--exactly as they wanted it.

It was a stiff breeze, steady in the right direction, and strong enough to carry up the largest of paper kites.
Proceeding to the place, where the ladders were set, with the huge bird carried in the arms of Ossaroo, they made ready for its flight.

Karl was to start the kite, and guide its ascent from the ground; while Caspar and the shikaree were to run out with the rope: as it would require the united strength of both to hold such a broad-breasted bird against the wind.