e had explained
how much easier it was now than at any other time because the
hard-packed snow made it possible to go with bobsleds, I knew he would
go. I can't say I really wanted to go, but Mrs. Louderer took it for
granted that it would be delightful, so she and Mr. Stewart did the
planning. Next morning Gavotte met Mrs. O'Shaughnessy and invited her.
Then, taking the mail, he went on ahead to blaze a trail we should
follow with the sleds. We were to start two days later. They planned we
could easily make the trip in a day, as, with the gulches filled with
snow, short cuts were possible, and we could travel at a good pace, as
we would have a strong team. To me it seemed dangerous, but
dinner-parties have not been so plenty that I could miss one. So, when
the day came on which we were to start, we were up betimes and had a
mess-box packed and Mr. Stewart had a big pile of rocks hot. We all
wore our warmest clothes, and the rest carried out hot rocks and
blankets while I put the kitchen in such order that the men left to
feed the stock would have no trouble in getting their meals. Mr.
Stewart carried out the mess-box, and presently we were off. We had a
wagon-box on bobsleds, and the box was filled with hay and hot rocks
with blankets on top and more to cover us. Mr. Stewart had two big bags
of grain in front, feed for the horses, and he sat on them.

It was a beautiful day and we jogged along merrily. We had lots of fun,
and as we went a new way, there was much that was new to Mrs.
O'Shaughnessy and myself, and it was all new to the rest. Gavotte had
told us where we should noon, and we reached the place shortly after
twelve. Mr. Stewart went to lift out the mess-box,--but he had
forgotten to put it in! Oh, dear! We were a disappointed lot. I don't
think I was ever so hungry, but there was nothing for it but to grin
and bear it. It did me some good, though, to remember how a man misses
his dinner. The horses had to be fed, so we walked about while they
were eating. We went up a canon that had high cliffs on one side, and
came to a place where, high up on the rock wall, in great black
letters, was this legend: "Dick fell off of this here clift and died."
I should think there would be no question that any one who fell from
that place on to the boulders below _would_ die.

Soon we started again, and if not quite so jolly as we were before, at
least we looked forward to our supper with a keen relish and the horses
were