Silver Lake by R. M. Ballantyne (the reading list book .TXT) 📕

Next day Roy and Nelly rose with the sun, and spent the forenoon in skinning and cutting up the bear, for they intended to dry part of the meat, and use it on their journey. The afternoon was spent in dragging the various parts to the hut. In the evening Roy proposed that they should go and have a shoosk. Nelly agreed, so they sallied forth to a neighbouring slope with their sledge.

Shoosking, good reader, is a game which is played not only by children but by men and women; it is also played in various parts of the world, such as Canada and Russia, and goes by various names; but we shall adopt the name used by our hero and heroine, namely “shoosking.” It is very simple, but uncommonly violent, and consists in hauling a sledge to the top of a snow-hill or slope, getting upon it, and sliding down to the bottom. Of course, the extent of violence depends on the steepness of the slope, the interruptions that occur in it, and the nature of the ground at the bottom. We once shoosked with an Indian down a wood-cutter’s track, on the side of a steep hill, which had a sharp turn in it, with a pile of firewood at the turn, and a hole in the snow at the bottom, in which were a number of old empty casks. Our great difficulties in this place were to take the turn without grazing the firewood, and to stop our sledges before reaching the hole. We each had separate sledges. For some time we got on famously, but at last we ran into the pile of firewood, and tore all the buttons off our coat, and the Indian went down into the hole with a hideous crash among the empty casks; yet, strange to say, neither of us came by any serious damage!

“There’s a splendid slope,” said Roy, as they walked briskly along the shores of Silver Lake, dragging the sledge after them, “just beyond the big cliff, but I’m afraid it’s too much for you.”

“Oh, I can go if you can,” said Nell, promptly.

“You’ve a good opinion of yourself. I guess I could make you sing small if I were to try.”

“Then don’t try,” said Nelly, with a laugh.

“See,” continued Roy, “there’s the slope; you see it is very steep; we’d go down it like a streak of greased lightnin’; but I don’t like to try it.”

“Why not? It seems easy enough to me. I’m sure we have gone down as steep places before at home.”

“Ay, lass, but not with a round-backed drift like that at the bottom. It has got such a curve that I think it would make us fly right up into the air.”

Nelly admitted that it looked dangerous, but suggested that they might make a trial.

“Well, so we will, but I’ll go down by myself first,” said Roy, arranging the sledge at the summit of a slope, which was full fifty feet high.

“Now, then, pick up the bits tenderly, Nell, if I’m knocked to pieces; here goes, hurrah!”

Roy had seated himself on the sledge, with his feet resting on the head of it, and holding on to the side-lines with both hands firmly. He pushed off as he cheered, and the next moment was flying down the hill at railway speed, with a cloud of snow-drift rolling like steam behind him. He reached the foot, and the impetus sent him up and over the snow-drift or wave, and far out upon the surface of the lake. It is true he made one or two violent swerves in this wild descent, owing to inequalities in the hill, but by a touch of his hands in the snow on either side, he guided the sledge, as with a rudder, and reached the foot in safety.

“May I venture, Roy?” inquired Nell, eagerly, as the lad came panting up the hill.

“Venture! Of course. I rose off the top o’ the drift only a little bit, hardly felt the crack at all; come, get you on in front, and I’ll sit at yer back an’ steer.”

Nelly needed no second bidding. She sat down and seized the side-lines of the sledge with a look of what we may call wild expectation; Roy sat down behind her.

“Now, lass, steady, and away we go!”

At the last word they shot from the hill-top like an arrow from a bow. The cloud of snow behind them rolled thicker, for the sledge was more heavily laden than before. Owing to the same cause it plunged into the hollow at the foot of the hill with greater violence, and shot up the slope of the snow-drift and over its crest with such force that it sprung horizontally forward for a few feet in the air, and came to the ground with a crash that extracted a loud gasp from Roy, and a sharp squeak from Nelly. It was found to be so delightful, however, that they tried it again and again, each time becoming more expert, and therefore more confident.

Excessive confidence, however, frequently engenders carelessness. Roy soon became reckless; Nelly waxed fearless. The result was that the former steered somewhat wildly, and finally upset.

Their last “shoosk” that evening was undertaken just as the sun’s latest rays were shooting between the hills on the opposite side of Silver Lake, and casting a crimson glow on the hut and the surrounding scenery. Roy had fixed a snow-shoe on the outer ridge of the snow-drift, to mark the distance of their last leap from its crest, and had given the sledge an extra push on the way down to increase its impetus. This extra push disconcerted him in steering; he reached the hollow in a side-long fashion, shot up the slope of the drift waveringly, and left its crest with a swing that not only turned the sledge right round, but also upside down. Of course they were both thrown off, and all three fell into the snow in a condition of dire confusion. Fortunately, no damage was done beyond the shock and the fright, but this accident was sufficient to calm their spirits, and incline them to go home to supper.

“Well, it’s great fun, no doubt, but we must turn our minds to more earnest work, for our journey lies before us,” said Roy, with the gravity of an Iroquois warrior, as he sat beside the fire that night discussing a bear-steak with his sister. “We have more than enough of fish and meat, you see; a day or two will do to turn our deer and bear into dried meat; the snow-shoes are mended, the sledge is in good order, as to-night’s work has proved, and all that we’ve got to do is to start fresh with true bearin’s and—hey! for home!”

“I wish I was there,” said Nelly, laying down a marrow-bone with a sigh.

“Wishin’ ain’t enough, Nell.”

“I know that, an’ I’m ready to work,” said Nelly, resuming the bone with a resolute air. “When shall we set out?”

“When we are ready, lass. We shall begin to dry the meat to-morrow, an’ as soon as it’s fixed—off we’ll start. I only hope the cold weather will last, for if it came warm it would go hard with your little feet, Nell. But let’s turn in now. Hard work requires a good sleep, an’ it may be that we’ve harder work than we think before us.”