“It will be a short job to get down,” said Sidney; “it’s almost a straight drop.”
“How about the trail?” suggested Raymond; “there certainly is none in sight here.”
When the boys looked down on the slope immediately below them they saw, what they had not before observed, in their enthusiasm over the view, that the snow did not descend more than half a mile on that side. The trail across the summit was entirely obliterated, at least, the boys could find none; and for a short distance down the south side also, none appeared. A little farther down, however, the snow was melted along the line of the trail, leaving it plainly visible, while on either side the ground was covered thick. Beyond the snow, also, the road could occasionally be seen where an angle of it came out on some ridge.
“You see, Ray,” said Sidney, “it’s not far to a good trail at any rate. We can go down that ridge, and we’ll soon be out of the deep snow.”
“Yes, and then we’ll be in slush.”
“Well, that won’t last long, either. And I’d rather have a little slush than much of such work as we had this morning.”
“Heck! Sid,” said Raymond, “I hope that country down there will be like western Texas in the winter, with no rain.”
“Remember,” said Sidney, “that western Texas sometimes has northers, and they’re worse than rain.”
“I’ll guarantee there’ll be no northers down there,” declared Raymond. “It would take a pretty vigorous norther to get over these mountains.”
“Well, once we’re down, we shan’t wait for one; we’ll hike right on to Tiflis and the railroad. It seems as though we ought almost to see Tiflis from here.”