took to circling, and, in the
exuberance of my feelings, attempted some quite new and complex
performances, which resulted in a few more corruscations and bumps. But
these were trifles. I heeded them not.

At last, however, I stood still and became thoughtful. We must all
become thoughtful sooner or later. A sense of loneliness began to
oppress me, and I longed for companionship in my joy. Knowing that this
was a useless longing, I cast it aside and resumed my evolutions,
rushes, bumps, and corruscations. But it would not do. The longing
returned with redoubled violence. After another hour I turned to skate
homeward, very much toned down in spirits, and deeply convinced of the
truth--in more senses than one--of the words, "It is not good that man
should be alone."

Before leaving this subject I may add that I tried skating again the
next day, but again grew weary of it in less than an hour for want of
companionship; that I made up my mind, in disgust to try no more; and
that, on the day following, sympathetic Nature aided me in my resolve by
covering the entire lake with eighteen inches of snow--thus rendering my
once favourite exercise impossible.

But, to return. When I drew near to the fort, I observed that several
black specks were gliding with lightning speed down the white track on
the hillside which Lumley had undertaken to finish. These specks, after
descending the steep hill, slid over the level shore and shot far out
upon the lake, where some of them seemed to roll over and over.
Wondering what this could be, I put on a spurt. Suddenly the truth
dawned upon me. My friend Lumley had cleared the slope for the purpose
of sledging down it!

"Max," he had remarked to me, long before, when talking about our men
and our plans, "`All work and no play,' you know, `makes Jack a dull
boy;' so I'll get up some kind of winter amusement for the lads which
will keep them in health and spirits."

Need I say that my recent cogitations and experience led me to join this
riotous crew with redoubled ardour? Taking off my skates hurriedly and
climbing up the hill, I leaped on the tail of Big Otter's toboggan,
without invitation, just as he was starting at the top of the snow-slope
to follow Lumley. I gave the sled such an impetus that we overtook our
chief, and upset him just as he reached the lake, causing him to collide
with Donald Bane and James Dougall, who, seated on the same toboggan,
were anxiously stri