When the tinkle of the bells had died away, the Brownies heard only the soft swish of the sled runners through the hard-packed snow.
On either side of the curving road rose huge drifts, which the girls glimpsed briefly whenever they passed a lighted house.
Connie noticed a high hill, frosted over like a beautiful white cake. Overhead, a few lonesome stars twinkled their eyes.
“A magic mountain!” she exclaimed. “Right out of a story book!”
“Hammer Hill,” said Grandfather Gordon, waving his mitten toward the mound of snow in the distance. “Snow Valley is hidden behind it.”
“Will we be there soon?” asked Sunny, ducking her head to elude the biting wind. “I’m hungry as a wolf.”
“As fast as old Maude and Ginger will take us,” promised Grandfather Gordon. “Have to make one stop though.” He tapped three large sacks of groceries stowed in the front of the sled. “I promised to drop these off at John Jeffert’s place.”
“We’re coming to it now,” added Miss Gordon. She pointed ahead to a forest of evergreen trees. The Brownies could not see the house.
“It’s hidden deep in the woods,” the teacher explained. “Mr. Jeffert is quite a character. He lives alone, and seldom goes into town.”
“How does he earn his living?” inquired Jane curiously.