Archibald and the Great Chasm

Many years ago, in a land that has been almost forgotten, there lived a young man named Archibald. Archibald was a scholar and a member of the academy of scholars in his small village. On the day that our tale begins, Archibald was sitting in his office at the academy. It was a small room with stone walls. A rough wooden table was pushed against one wall, and the young man was hunched over some parchment, furiously writing. His fingers moved beads up and down in an abacus that he kept next to his parchment. He mumbled to himself, distraught over what the beads were telling him.

                “It must work! I know it must work!” Archibald cried. “The sparrow flies, leaves gently float to the ground… I must be missing something.” Archibald stood abruptly, both hands pressed firmly on the table. He turned and walks briskly out of the narrow doorway, mumbling about taking a walk.

                Archibald walked down a long hallway. There were wooden benches placed here and there – all unoccupied. There were several doors along this hallway, all look very much like the door to the room he had just left. Archibald reached the end of the hallway, and went through a set of large double doors. He blinked up at the sun high overhead, and began to walk down the dusty street.

                “Archibald! Have you decided to come up for fresh air?” The voice belonged to a jovial looking fellow, a head taller than Archibald, with a great red beard and a wild mane of hair.

                “Aye, Henry. I cannot seem to make any progress.”

                “Well, progress can wait. I was just about to sit down for lunch – how would you like to join me? Take your mind off the problems of the academy, and just enjoy a good meal.”

                “I appreciate the offer, but…”

                “Nonsense! Even scholars and scientists have to eat!” With that, Henry put his arm around Archibald’s shoulder, and guided him down a narrow lane to a small, humble house. The walls were rough-hewn stone, and the roof was covered in thatch. Henry sat Archibald down at the table that took up a large part of one side of the one-room home. He laid out a plate of bread and cheese, with butter, apples freshly picked from the grove nearby, and ale. Archibald smiled to himself, and relaxed. He ate with his friend, and when the meal was done, insisted that he must be getting back to his work. Reluctantly, Henry let him go.

                Archibald decided to take the long way back to the academy – taking the road that went near the militia barracks. Archibald enjoyed watching the militia men train and drill. He had wanted to be a soldier when he was a young lad, but he was far too short and not nearly strong enough. So, he devoted his life to science, and watched the men of the militia do what had once been his dream.

                When Archibald reached the barracks, he saw that many of the men were lined up in the parade grounds. Each man wore a tunic of deep blue, with the militia crest prominently displayed on front and back. The men held longbows, and each had three arrows in the ground before them. At the other end of the parade grounds, perhaps 70 or 80 yards away, the militia had set up several practice dummies. These dummies were little more than bales of hay, bound to resemble the shape of a man. As Archibald watched, the sergeant yelled “Loose!” He heard the sharp “Fwip” of the bowstrings, and 10 arrows raced across the sky. Each arrow found its mark in the body of a practice dummy. The sergeant continued to shout commands, and Archibald continued to watch for a few minutes. After the third volley, Archibald turned and continued on his way.

                Although it was beyond the confines of the village, Archibald decided to make a final stop before returning to the academy. The great chasm was a spectacular sight, even to someone who grew up next to it. So deep that you could not see the bottom at high noon on the clearest of days, the chasm walls were completely vertical, white stone cliffs. The far side could be seen in the distance on clear day like this one. The walls of the chasm on that side were also white cliffs, and seemed to be just as vertical as those on Archibald’s side. He, and many others, had studied the cliffs extensively. No matter how far up or down anyone had explored, no one had ever spotted the smallest of handholds. A few bold, or foolish, explorers had tried to lower themselves down with ropes into the chasm. Most had been raised back up when they ran out of rope. One or two stubbornly refused to come back up, insisting that more and more rope be lowered to them. Those poor souls had all met the same end – a knot gave way, or a rope snapped. No one had tried to cross the chasm or climb down the cliffs in almost a decade. Many said it could not be done. Archibald was determined to prove that it was possible.

                The idea had come to him while he rested beneath a tree on a beautiful fall day three years ago. He had just secured a position at the academy, and was looking for inspiration. Each member of the academy was required to contribute to the knowledge of the academy. Some studied history, others developed new ways to grow crops or build homes. Archibald was part of the school that built machines. As he sat under a tree that fine fall day, he contemplated what sort of machine he would build first. A single red leaf came loose from the branches above his head, and he watched it float lazily towards the ground. A sudden gust of wind took the leaf back up into the air, and drove it far away from the tree and Archibald. Archibald had jumped up, and raced back to the academy, sure that he knew a way to cross the great chasm. In the three years since that day, Archibald had done countless calculations, made many, many drawings and diagrams, and even built a few prototypes. Nothing had worked out the way he had thought it should. He had started out trying to emulate a bird to fly across the chasm. While this seemed sound, he could never find a way to build a craft light enough that he would be able to fly like a bird. He had recently returned to his original inspiration: the leaf. His design was almost complete, and he would begin construction of his first prototype of this new idea soon. He just needed to solve a few problems with the calculations…

                It was late when Archibald finally returned to the Academy. The sun streamed through his window and made a lovely orange silhouette high on the wall over his table. Archibald lit two of the candles that rested on the table, and sat down to continue his work.

                Some months passed. Archibald completed his calculations, and began to construct his first prototype. The design was unprecedented, to say the least. His idea was to use a large cloth, shaped like a large rectangle, and place string along what would be the top to make a sort of skeletal structure. His intention was that a man would leap from the cliffs, allow the air rushing past him to fill the cloth, and that the strings would form a rigid structure and make the cloth spread out above him as he fell. He would then use the winds in the chasm to propel him to the far side, or, at worst, he would land safely on the bottom, like a leaf floating to the ground.

                Archibald began to test his idea using a small prototype, and a large rock to take the part of the explorer. He would climb to the top of the tallest building in town – the watch tower on the western wall – and toss the rock out with his prototype. His first attempt did not go well. The cloth did not open up as he expected, and the rock plummeted to the earth like, well, a rock. Archibald tossed the rock several more times before returning to his study room for more calculations. He had nearly worn through the bars on his abacus, and would have to replace it soon. One of his friends was working on a new calculating device – one that was labeled with numbers, and did not rely on simply counting beads. Perhaps he would be able to get his hands on one of his friend’s prototypes when his old abacus did finally give out.

                After a few days of re-designing, Archibald was ready to test his device again. Once more, he climbed up to the top of the tower and tossed the device and rock out into the air. This time, he watched the cloth open, and rock… still plummeted to the earth, although perhaps a bit slower than normal. And so, once more, Archibald retrieved his prototype and his rock, and went back to figure out how he could make his idea work. This process of designing, testing, and re-designing continued until late into the autumn months.

Archibald would have forgotten about the harvest festival, if the sign on the front door of the academy hadn’t reminded him. It stated that the academy was closed that day, and pointed towards the market square. Archibald went dutifully to the square. He would not be able to get any work done today, in any case. The academy was locked up tight during the harvest festival, and only the members of the executive council held keys.

At the square, Archibald was given a single green glove and a circlet of leaves. Archibald absentmindedly put the glove and circlet on. This year he wore the glove on his right hand, symbolizing a productive year. Wearing the glove on one’s left hand would have symbolized a year of loss. It was rare to see a glove on anyone’s left hand. So, with his left hand bare, Archibald joined the crowd of people in the market square. He danced, laughed, and had a generally enjoyable time. He spent much of time with Henry, drinking Henry’s famous ale, and reminiscing about their boyhood. The festival continued late into the night, and the sun was just peeking over the horizon when the last of the villagers finally went home to his bed.

Archibald slept late the day after the festival, and awoke feeling groggy and disoriented. When he was awake enough to realize what day it was, he jumped out of bed and hurried to the Academy. The day before the festival, he had finally finished what he hoped would be his final prototype. It was full sized, and he had attached it to a statue that he had bought from one of the members of the school of art. The statute was a life size statue of a man, but the features on the face were ruined during a failed experiment. The artist had been happy to part ways with what he considered a failed experiment. Archibald was interested in it because it was only a little heavier than a man, and roughly the same shape and size.

Archibald attached his final prototype to the statue, and took it in a hand cart to the edge of town, and then to the chasm itself. He climbed to the top of the observation tower that had been built by one of the members of the academy in an attempt to see the far side of the chasm more clearly. There was a platform at the top that extended out a dozen or so feet over the edge of the chasm. This platform had been intended to allow members of the academy to look down into the chasm more easily. Archibald intended to use it to launch his final experiment.

Everything was ready. With a deep breath, Archibald pushed the statue off the platform, and watched it fall. To his pleasure, the cloth opened up, and the statue was lifted on the strong winds over the chasm. It began to float slowly downward, and was soon lost to his sight in the evening mist. Archibald shouted and clapped his hands. A huge grin was plastered on his face as he returned to town.

Henry stopped him in the street as we walked back to the academy. “Ho, there, Archibald, you look happier than a hog in a haystack!”

“It worked, Henry! I tested it out over the chasm today, and it worked!”

“Well, I’ll be! This calls for a celebration! I saved a little ale from the festival, how about we commemorate this fine day with a drink?”

“I would love to celebrate, my friend, but I have so much work to do. The next step is to make a machine that a man can use!”

“Come now, can that not wait until the morning?”

“Perhaps I will join you in an hour or two.”

“Suit yourself. I will get a proper celebration ready, and if you aren’t there in two hours, I shall come to that academy of yours and carry you out.”

Archibald laughed and shook his friend’s hand, slapping him on the back. “It’s a deal!”

Archibald made it to his celebration without being fetched that night – an unusual occurrence for him. He enjoyed the company of his friends, but did not stay late. He had too much on his mind.

The next two weeks were filled with small adjustments to his design, construction of the device, preparation for the first real test, and very little sleep. Finally, it was ready. Archibald completed his device, and informed the councilman in charge of machines that he believed it was ready.

“Well, done, my boy! It may seem like it has been a long road, but some of our best machines have taken many more years to even become prototypes. When will you hold the first test?”

“In a week’s time. I have prepared three devices, and found three volunteers eager to explore the chasm.”

“Well done, indeed! I look forward to attending!”

The day of the final test arrived, and Archibald carried his three precious devices with him to the observation tower. There he was met by three young militiamen: John McColling, Robert Shannonson, and Maxwell Oakson. Each had distinguished himself as brave and strong. More importantly to Archibald, each one had a passion for exploration. The morning of the test was clear and bright. A cool wind blew out over the chasm. It was perfect.

Archibald had instructed the three on how to use the devices, and they were ready. The militiamen wore their deep blue tunics, but also carried the sturdy cloths of a woodsman in their packs. Each man was also equipped with a dagger, food, water, and other supplies. Much of the town had come out to watch the test – it was, after all, the most unique attempt to cross the chasm that anyone could remember. Henry was there, as well as the entire executive council. Many of Archibald’s colleagues had also come to observe. It was a very large audience indeed.

Archibald made the traditional speech, giving his name and project number, and thanking the volunteers and the official observers from the academy. He then shook hands with the brave volunteers, and stepped back to observe.

The men jumped one at a time, each cloth opening up and catching the wind. As they drifted off toward the far side of the chasm, they drifted lower and lower. It seemed certain that they would be dashed against the cliffs on the far side. Then, to everyone’s amazement (except Archibald, for he had observed the cliffs many times), a sudden gust of wind on the far side of the chasm blew upwards, caught the men, and carried them up and up. The crowd gasped and shouted in unison as the men made it over the lip of the chasm on the far side. No one could see clearly, but it looked like all three cloths came to rest a few yards past the far edge of the chasm.

Archibald lifted his hand in a final farewell to those brave men. He hoped that, when the winds shifted in the spring, they would be able to use those same devices to return home. Only time would tell.