They pitched down a few feet through the evergreens, and came to the top of a long, straight, open chute, like a ski run cut in the woods, covered deep with snow, and descending 500 feet to the very bottom of Hunt’s Cove. It was evidently the path of an old landslide. Part way down, at one side, Mr. Stone had set up his camera, and was ready to shoot them as they went past him.
“Ready? Go!” cried Norman, and over the edge he went, dragging his horse.
Bennie followed, and Spider and Dumplin’ and the doctor, and the pack horses, and the rest, in single file. Two jumps, and you were speeding up. Three jumps, and the horses were going ten feet at a plunge, snorting and slipping and sometimes going through the snow to their bellies, and the boys, ahead of them, were leaping from side to side madly to keep out of the way of their iron-shod, plunging hoofs.
As he passed the camera, Bennie heard the crank grinding, and the laughing voice of Mr. Stone crying, “More action, Bennie!”
Bennie was about to make some reply, when his foot slipped, and he turned a superb somersault, and only was stopped from rolling the rest of the way to the bottom because he kept hold of his horse’s bridle.
It was all over in two minutes, but it was certainly lively while it lasted. Then all the horses, their legs wet, shivering and trembling with nervousness, stood huddled at the foot of the chute, and Mr. Stone was seen descending with his camera. Bennie sprang back up the slope to get the tripod.
“Say, that beats skiing!” he cried, “and I sure got some more action for you, Mr. Stone.”
“You did,” the man laughed. “You did! That was the best action picture I ever took.”
They found at the bottom of Hunt’s Cove a small open meadow, boggy now with melted snow and full of white cowslips and running brooks, but full, also, of fresh grass for the horses, and all around the meadow deep forests of fir trees and deep drifts. Among the trees, beside a rushing stream of ice cold water, and in a dry place between drifts, they pitched their tents.
There was no danger of a fire spreading here, with the snow all around, so they built a roaring camp fire between the tents, and while the dinner was being cooked the doctor got from his pack a box of spikes, and they began to fix their shoes for the climb.