CHAPTER XII.
COLD WEATHER IN TEXAS.
In the shelter of Bear Cove, the shore of which was heavily wooded with a growth of pine, Rodney Grant clamped on his skates. Through the still night air, at intervals, came the faint, faraway shouts of skaters who were enjoying themselves on the broad lower end of the lake. From a distance, while making his way to this secluded spot, Rod had seen the gleaming light of a bonfire which had been built on Crooked Island; and, pausing for a few moments, he had watched the flitting, darting figures of the skaters passing between himself and the light, which flared and rose with the application of fresh fuel brought from along the shores. And while he watched a feeling of loneliness crept over the young Texan.
“But I’ll keep away from them until I can skate some,” he muttered, as he resumed his journey across the frozen fields and pastures.
Having secured the skates to the stout soles of his heavy boots, Rod started to rise, but dropped back with a faint grunt of surprise as the irons shot out from beneath him.
“Right slippery things,” he half chuckled. “I reckon I’ll have to be careful how I get up.”
A sapling close by the shore aided him, but when he had reached an upright position he found to his perplexity that instinct led him to cling fast to that slender young tree, with the apprehension of a fall strong upon him in case he ventured to let go. His ankles were inclined to wobble weakly, and a queer, disconcerting sensation of uncertainty made him hold his breath.
“What’s the matter with me?” he growled fretfully. “I didn’t expect to skate right off in polished style, but I’ll be hanged if I believe I can even stand up on the things. I’ve watched the fellows at it, and it seems easy enough to go skimming around first on one foot and then on the other. They didn’t make any mess at all about it.”
His feet started backward beneath him, and he pulled himself up, causing the sapling to bend and crack.
“Maybe these new skates are too blamed slippery,” he thought. “If that’s right, I wonder why the man who sold them to me didn’t say something about it. Well, I don’t care a rap; I’m going to give them a try.”