It didn’t seem to trouble them much, however. They threw themselves down on their backs to enjoy a sun-bath before luncheon. The dogs, too, lay down to chew snow, and the ponies began to graze upon it, if that isn’t an Irish bull.
The ponies had already been taught to come to whistle, and to do many pretty tricks. A Shetland pony can be largely evoluted. I have had them beg like dogs. These did; and they also took bits of biscuits from the boys’ lips, and took their fur caps off. This last was a coaxy kind of trick. The ponies improved upon it to-day, though, by running off with them to present to Nick and Nora.
Nick and Nora, caps in mouth, with Wallace at their side, went racing round and round like circus horses, Charlie and Walt, bareheaded, in the centre. Cold work standing thus, but the lads’ faces were all aglow now, and they cared not.
Then that simple luncheon. Dry biscuits and pony “bix” galore, cold coffee, and more snow. The coffee was frozen in scales, so they had to put the flasks into their bosoms before they could shake it out, a few brown scales at a time, to eat off their palms.
A white spot on Walter’s face!
“Rub it out,” said Charlie, and put his finger on it, for Walt felt nothing.
Rubbed out with snow.
Remount, and a slower ride back to camp in time for tea.
And weren’t they hungry, too! This was only the first of many such scampers.
That great snowy tableland came now to be the regular exercising ground for all the animals.