"It will be grand sport," answered the boy, quickly. "We will run a race to see which one of us can get there first. Of course Henrik will win. But who cares? I don't."
The two boys had been busy all day making new skis for themselves. Great sport the children would have all this winter sliding down the hillsides.
Coasting on sleds! yes, there was plenty of that, too, on the snowy slopes around Mari's home. But ski-lobing was better fun, by far. Mari had learned to slide on skis long ago. They were made from two strips of wood, six feet long, with pointed ends curved upward. When they were strapped on her stout shoes the little girl could slide over the snow at a wonderful rate, without sinking or falling.
No, there was no sport like ski-lobing. Mari had the sled Henrik made for her two years ago, and her two brothers sometimes dragged her on it down to the village. Sometimes all the children went coasting with their sleds. "But it isn't as good as ski-lobing," they would always say when they came home.
And it was no wonder; you would agree with them, if you could once see them travel. It was almost like flying. They would stand together at the top of a slope.
"Ready!" Henrik would cry.
Then away! they would all start downwards. It seemed but a second before all were standing at the foot of the hill, out of breath and rosy as the reddest winter apples.
"Now for the top," cried the leader, after a moment's rest; and up they would go again.
It is easy to understand now why Ole and Henrik were not afraid of a long trip on skis over the snow-covered fields and hills. They were so skilful they would get to the camp in two hours at most.
After an afternoon's sport on the hillside, the children once more gathered in the big living-room.