Ridgwell and Christine shut their eyes, and as neither of them had any breath during that wild descent, they could only compare notes afterwards as to the amazing sensations they experienced during these moments.
When the toboggan had finally brought itself to a standstill Ridgwell extricated himself and viewed the snow-powdered spaces in front of them a trifle apprehensively. Bounding along towards them raced a pack of animals. Their eyes were glistening and their tongues hanging out.
"Wolves!" muttered Ridgwell. "Oh! I say, Chris, I don't think I quite care about meeting wolves. Do you? They don't look very friendly either, by the way they are coming along."
"It's the stray dogs," shouted Christine; "and look, Carry-on-Merry is putting little teams of them into sleighs to draw us along."
"Sleigh races about to start," called the Lion. "Take your seats, shake the reins and you will hear the silver bells tinkle. The first sleigh to reach the farthest pine-trees wins the race. Off you go."
Away flew the dogs, drawing the children over the powdered snow tracks.
After the race Carry-on-Merry collected all the children together.
"I propose a snowball match," grinned Carry-on-Merry. "Gamble, Grin,
Grub, and myself upon one side, against all you children."
"Ho, ho, ho!" laughed the Pleasant-Faced Lion. "My goodness, what a beating all you children are going to have. Why, Carry-on-Merry and his lot can manufacture snowballs as quick as lightning."
The battle commenced without delay, and it was a terrific conflict.