take time. His first thought was to kick off his
shoes, toss them down and then jump. But if he did this he would be sure
to break through the crust and he had no means of knowing the depth of
that drift or what might be underneath it. He had no desire to find out.
He must either jump on his shoes or go around, and the temptation was to
jump.

"May as well learn to jump now as another time," he muttered, for the
time being forgetting that in the event of a mishap, such as a twisted
ankle, he would be helpless in a temperature far below zero.

He walked back a bit, took three or four long quick strides and leaped.
As he left the edge of the little bluff he felt the tails of his shoes
drop until the big webs hung from his feet at an angle but slightly off
the perpendicular. A momentary doubt of a successful landing flashed
through his mind. He had a vision of an ignominious plunge through the
crust and perhaps broken shoes. Then automatically he set himself for
the landing, arms spread, body thrust forward and knees bent. It seemed
as if those hanging shoes certainly must trip him. A second later he
struck the crust in a half crouch. The crust cracked and gave a little,
just enough to prevent the shoes from sliding. With a quick step he
regained his balance and with a sense of exhilaration realized that he
had made successfully his first jump on snow-shoes.

From this point he had little difficulty in reaching the hollow stub,
where he secured his rifle and then turned toward the cabin. Hal was
just coming in. From one hand dangled a snow-shoe rabbit.

"Is that all you've got for all that shooting I've heard?" chaffed
Walter.

Hal grinned. "Couldn't hit a balloon if it was big as a mountain and
tied down in front of me," he confessed. "Don't know what the trouble
was, but I just couldn't shoot. Wouldn't have got this fellow if he
hadn't sat up and begged to be shot. Missed him a mile the first time at
ten yards. Bullet didn't go near enough to scare him. Second shot was no
better. Got him on the third shot, but I believe at that he jumped in
front of the bullet. You don't seem to have had even that much luck.
What was the trouble? Haven't heard your rifle this morning."

"Didn't feel like hunting. Went up on the ridge to get the view
instead," returned Walter carelessly. "Wonder how Sparrer made out."

They entered the cabin to find Pat and Sparrer already there, the latter
so excited that he gave vent to a joyful