“That was great!” cried Don, springing up.
“The fires look to be a long way up in the air,” observed Vench, and they looked up to the top of the hill.
The fires looked far away from where they were, sending licking yellow flames against a deep black sky. A number of black dots were streaking down the hill in their direction, but the bob had gone further than any of them because of its weight.
“Now I suppose we have got to walk up again,” said Terry. “Too bad we can’t push a button and make the hill reverse for us!”
“Why go up right away?” asked Jim. “Here is a smaller hill. Want to try it?”
A few yards from them a smaller slope showed, on which the hard snow gleamed from the faraway fires.
“We’ll run right down into the woods, if we go down this hill,” cautioned Don. “However, I’m perfectly willing. Want to try it?”
The others agreed and with another push they dipped down this second hill, taking a long ride in between the trees that closed over their heads and shut out all light. But when they came to compare notes they found that sentiment was not very keen for this hill.
“Nothing to it,” declared Vench.
“The snow is packed harder on the long hill,” Jim decided. “No use using these little ones when we have a perfectly good big one.”