“But it didn’t seem dangerous when I was doing it,” cried Drummond. “I never thought about toppling down, only about getting right across and after those moufflons.”
“Same here,” said Roberts.
“Well, I did look down once and think of what might happen,” said Bracy.
“Ah, that’s where you were wrong. Never do that, lad. Keep perfectly cool, and you can get almost anywhere up yonder in the snow. I’ve got to be quite a climber since I’ve been here.”
“Well, I gave myself the credit of being pretty good on ice and snow to-day,” said Bracy, smiling. “I mean pretty well for a cripple. I wish I had done as well over the shooting. That was a miserable show of mine. Thanks for not exposing me at the mess.”
“Rubbish!” said Drummond. “Who’s going to tell tales out of school? I say, though, that ice-climbing in the mountains is splendid—isn’t it? The more one does the easier it seems. It feels quite cool and comfortable.”
“Which one can’t help feeling on the ice,” said Bracy, laughing. “But seriously, we are getting pretty good at it up yonder in the snow.”
“Regular climbers,” said Drummond; “and I vote that we do as much of it as we can while our shoes are good. There, don’t look at a fellow like that—your shoes, then, that you gave me. But I didn’t mean shoes literally. I mean before the old man puts a stop to our hunting and climbing.”
“He soon will, you may depend upon that,” said Roberts. “He’s getting nervous about us all.”
“Because we are such splendid officers,” put in Bracy merrily.