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I suspect that when we have broken the shell of
fear, falling may be delightful. Jumping down is, after all, only a
steeper tobogganing, and tobogganing a milder jumping down. Always
I used to funk at the top of the Cresta run. I suffered sometimes
almost intolerably; I found it almost impossible to get away. The
first ten yards was like being slashed open with a sharp sword. But
afterwards there was nothing but joyful thrills. All instinct, too,
fought against me when I tried high diving. I managed it, and began
to like it. I had to give it up because of my ears, but not until I
had established the habit of stepping through that moment of
disinclination.
"I was Challoner's passenger when he was killed at Sheerness. That
was a queer unexpected experience, you may have supposed it an agony
of terror, but indeed there was no fear in it at all. At any rate,
I do not remember a moment of fear; it has gone clean out of my
memory if ever it was there. We were swimming high and fast, three
thousand feet or so, in a clear, sweet air over the town of
Sheerness.


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