You're down in the jungle with death staring you in the face. There is nothing left but prayer. So you ask for your life. But wait! Are you sure that's really what you want above all else?
rancy in her voice. "Andy, you dope," she whispered with a brave attempt at sprightliness. "Why didn't you--tell--me--sooner?" She was gasping, but hurried on. "I can tell the doctor, and he can telephone somebody and they can use the radio and tell the patrol where you are. Oh! Andy--where are you--? Hurry--"
She was going again, and as quickly as he could he told her of the river and the jungle, and where approximately the ship had been just before the crash. Then she was gone and he closed his eyes and let the waves of near-hysterical relief wash over him. He was exhausted, the strain of long concentration had drained his strength, but he could almost feel the nerve ends in his dead body tingling with the exhilaration that sang in his mind. It was the miracle he hadn't dared pray for. It would be the greatest miracle ever performed, and he had almost lost it, almost killed it, almost thrown it away. But Elsie-- He prayed feverishly now, thanking, thanking, and praying for the miracle to really happe
Hated this story. Cheap mawkish sentimentality aimed at the feeble minded.
Andy is the sole survivor of a patrol ship crash but he is paralysed from the neck down and lying alone in a jungle. No one knows where he is. Contrary to the illustration, he is not threatened by a four-legged beastie. How he endures this whilst worrying about his pregnant wife makes for a very good short story. The ending is one of the best Iíve read in ages.