an 



I made a desperate start. Friction almost 

 ceases to be a factor with skees on a snowy 

 steep, and in less than a hundred yards I was 

 going like the wind. For the first quarter of a 

 mile, to the upper end of the gulch, was smooth 

 coasting, and down this I shot, with the ava- 

 lanche, comet-tailed with snow-dust, in close 

 pursuit. A race for life was on. { 



The gulch down which I must go began with a 

 rocky gorge and continued downward, an enor- 

 mous U-shaped depression between high moun- 

 tain-ridges. Here and there it expanded and 

 then contracted, and it was broken with granite 

 crags and ribs. It was piled and bristled with 

 ten thousand fire-killed trees. To coast through 

 all these snow-clad obstructions at breakneck 

 speed would be taking the maximum number of 

 life-and-death chances in the minimum amount 

 of time. The worst of it all was that I had never 

 been through the place. And bad enough, too, 

 was the fact that a ridge thrust in from the 

 left and completely hid the beginning of the 

 gulch. 



As I shot across the lower point of the ridge, 

 9 



