“Well, it’s a pretty good fall landscape,” gasped Tom, leaning against a stump, weak from laughter.
But lo! the stump, like many others of its kind thereabouts, was decayed, and over it went, carrying Tom with it.
When the boys had struggled to their feet, they found that Baranov had stopped just ahead of them, and was chuckling over their mishaps.
“Look here, old fellow,” cried Tom, “is it going to be this way all day?”
“No, no,” said Baranov. “Mebbe I oughtn’t to hev laughed at ye. But I saw no harm was done. Ye’ve got good pluck, both of ye, not to ask me to slow up before naow. P’r’aps I put on a leetle extra steam, to see what ye was made of—with that ar light blanket”—
“O-oh!”
“But the wust on it’s over, for quite a spell. Thar’s the reg’lar Basin trail jest ahead. We can follow that for a mile or two, before strikin’ off up the side of the maounting.”
It was a relief to walk in a traveled path once more, although it was a very rough one.
It was just five o’clock when Solomon called a halt, and announced that they were something over three miles from the wharf at Juneau, having been a little more than an hour and a half in reaching this point.