d the other south-west; one of his feet left the earth as
though it would soar heavenwards. Billy sat down with some violence.

'Here, I say, that won't do,' he observed.

'What made the things behave like that?' I said.

'Keep the ends apart'--Tom laughed--'but not so far as that; point them
both the same way, but keep them six inches or so from one another.'

Billy got up and tried again. The points of his shoes now rushed towards
one another like old friends who meet after long parting. Billy's
progress was instantly checked, and he sprawled forward on his face in
the most ignominious fashion.

Billy scrambled up awkwardly, for one of his _ski would_ stand on the
other and keep it down. He fell three times before he finally stood
erect.

'You said it was so easy,' he said, reproachfully. 'Stop laughing,
Bobby,' he added, 'and try yourself.'

I did so, profiting by Billy's experience, and slid carefully forward.
Ten yards I covered in safety, then a small birch-tree suddenly rose up
before me. I knew no way of giving it the go-by. I tried to guide myself
to one side of it, and, lo! one snowshoe went to the right of the tree,
the other to the left, and I found myself jammed against the trunk.

'I say, help!' I cried. 'Cut down the tree, or take me out of the
snowshoes. I can't move!'

Tom shrieked with laughter; so did Billy, who ought to have known
better.

'Try to back away from the tree,' Tom suggested.

I endeavoured to do so. This time the heel ends of the shoes crossed,
and I sat down very suddenly, while Tom and Billy laughed even more
rudely than before. I began to realise that the art of _ski_-running was
not a perfectly easy one even upon the level. What would it be, I
wondered, when we reached the hill-side?

Though the gentle slopes chosen by Tom for our first lesson were distant
but a short mile from the lodge, I think we took at least three-quarters
of an hour to reach the place. The pointed ends of our
snowshoes--Billy's and mine--went exactly where they pleased. They
behaved like ill-natured animated things, and did us all the harm they
could. This was not much, of course, except to make us appear very
ridiculous; but Billy and I soon got tired of laughing at one another,
so that it did not matter after a while. But when we reached the
hill-side, and made our first efforts to 'shoot' the slope, the real fun
began.

Bill took the first attempt. Tom had shown us how it was to be done. He