Figure 2 shows how the railings of the steps are fastened in place, and Figure 4, how the lower uprights, D, are connected and braced.

build a toboggan-slide in your own back yard one time; then another time, if you decide conditions are better in your chum's back yard, all you will

C

FIG. 3. HOW THE PLAT

FORM RAILINGS
ARE NAILED.

First cut uprights D about eighteen inches shorter than uprights A (Fig. 2), then cut the board, E (Figs. 2 and 4), about three feet longer than the packing-case, and nail it to the edges of uprights D at their lower ends, placing the uprights the same distance apart as uprights A. Cut the braces, F, three or four feet long, and nail their ends securely to board, E, and uprights D. After making this piece of framework, set it about thirty inches away from the packing-case platform base, with uprights D directly in line with uprights A (Fig. 2), and connect the uprights with the crosspieces, G, and the hand-rails, H.

With the framework of the platform and steps completed, select a good location for your toboggan-slide; then place the framework upon a sled and pull it over to that spot and set it in position.

F

E

FIG. 4. HOW THE LOWER UPRIGHTS FOR THE STEP-RAILINGS ARE CONNECTED.

One good thing about this form of framework is its compactness and the ease with which it may be taken from one place to another. You may

have to do will be to set the framework upon your sled and haul it over to his yard.

While you have been making the platform framework, your companions should have busied themselves with bringing together the snow necessary for the slide. The snow is gathered easiest by rolling it into balls, starting with small balls some distance away from the position selected for the toboggan-slide, and gradually working them over toward that spot as you roll them. Each boy may start a ball and roll it until it becomes too heavy for him to manage alone; then two or more boys should work together, and, when the balls are of the right size, roll them into position. The size of the balls should diminish in the proportion necessary to give the proper slope to the slide. Fill in the spaces between the balls with snow and tamp it down with a stick; then level off the tops. If the snow is too dry to pack well, pour water over the slide as you construct it. The more compact you make the slide, the more substantial it will be, and the longer it will last.

Pile upon the packing-case the amount of snow necessary to make the platform of the desired height; then build a set of steps to it, as shown in Figure 1. Make these steps broad, and pitch them slightly toward the back. Do not pour water on them, because it will make them slippery. They will wear down, of course, but they can be repaired quickly. If a board is built into the top of each step, they will be more durable.

The top of the slide should be made icy by pouring water upon it, but, before this is done, tracks should be formed by running a sled down the slide a few times. Make these tracks wide enough so that sleds of different widths will fit them. It is a good idea, also, to bank up the snow along each side of the slide to form a ledge, so there will be no possibility of a sled running off of the slide in case it leaves its tracks.

If there is a scarcity of snow, much may be saved by filling in a portion of the base of the slide with a barrel or with boxes. The snow placed upon the top of the barrel or boxes will form an arch over them and make the slide just as firm as though it were built entirely of snow.

A couple of planks may also be used for the upper portion of the slide to save snow (Fig. 5). These may be either ten inches or twelve inches in width by whatever length you can get. Fasten them together with wooden battens placed about three feet apart, as shown in Figure 6, and nail a strip to each edge, as shown, to form a guard with a three- or four-inch projection. If teninch planks are used, they may be placed two or three inches apart, in order to make the slide that much wider (Fig. 6). The width of a sled is greater than that of one plank, so the runners could not possibly run into the opening left between the planks. Nail a board across uprights B of the platform framework (Fig. 5) to sup

port the upper end of the planks. Then build up a snow-slide at the end of the planking, as shown in Figure 5, to make the slide as long as is desired, and embed the end of the planks in the

snow.

These ideas have been worked out in a very

GUARD STRIP

FIG. 6. HOW TWO PLANKS MAY BE BATTENED TOGETHER.

simple form, but any boy who wants to build a more elaborate toboggan-slide, longer, and with a higher platform, will readily see that its construction will be similar. A number of packing-cases may be fastened together to make the platform as large as is desired, while several lengths of planking may be used for the slide, supported at the ends on snow piers-just as a long bridge is supported upon piers of masonry. If several packing-cases are fastened together for a large platform, they should be bound with strips, and in case the top boxes are made of thin wood, a flooring of boards should be nailed across them to distribute the weight of the coasters who are to stand upon them and thus prevent the possibility of breaking through.

CHAPTER VI

PEG TURNS TRAPPER

FOR a moment after little Jack and the Indian had disappeared I stood still, so appalled that I scarce seemed able to move. It is true that I had been apprehensive at not finding the boy, but that came from a vague fear that he might have wandered too far. That he should have been taken away by a savage or any one else had never entered my mind.

I came to my senses and tore wildly across the open space to the spot where they had disappeared, and then on into the forest. I was nigh to panic and ran blindly, conscious only of a great fear in my heart; but after a time my thoughts cleared, and, though my alarm was not less, I realized that I must summon all my wits if I would regain the boy..

I slowed my pace and took note of my surroundings with a view to finding some trace of the Indian's passage through the wood. I knew of men to whom every bent twig would have told a story; who could find footprints even on the leaves and moss; who could follow a trail unerringly by signs that were not visible to the unskilled, and, though I lacked experience in this wood lore, I had heard much of the methods, and made an effort to use what I could remember of it.

But search as I might, there were no signs to guide me that I could understand. I stopped and listened, shuddering at the solemn stillness of the deep forest, which I knew hid a host of living creatures, with hostile eyes upon me even as I stood. All about me in the silent, sunlit solitude were huge trees, putting out tender shoots of green through which the shimmering light shed shifting shadows on the soft earth. At my feet the brown carpet of leaves was starred with hepaticas, bloodroot, and anemones, while here and there little clumps of fern fronds made emerald patches, and sprouts of dog-tooth violets, splashed with darker color, marked a damper spot or perhaps a spring.

But, though there was naught to tell me in which direction my path lay, naught was to be gained by standing still; so I started forward,

heeding not the briers that caught at my skirts as if to stay my progress.

Ere long, I began to question the wisdom of my attempt to catch the Indian. Might it not be wiser to return to Denewood and give the alarm? Against this was the time it would require to retrace my steps, and also the feeling that it would seem almost as if I were turning my back upon Jacky. Moreover, sooner or later there would be inquiries for both the boy and me; Hal would then tell of our meeting, and I had no doubt they would be after us in short order.

So I determined to go on. It was what my love for the child dictated, and, as if to confirm this decision, my glance was suddenly arrested by a bloodroot flower crushed into the brown leaves a yard or two ahead of me.

I leaned down to examine it, and found that it was freshly broken, for the thick red sap which gives the flower its name was not yet dry, and, though I was not sure, it looked to me as if there were a slight depression around the broken plant that might have been made by a foot. Eagerly I peered about, hoping to see other signs, and was rewarded by finding a dead leaf turned up to show the damp under side. Something must have disturbed it but a short while before, and my heart gave a great bound of joy.

Then, to dash my spirits, came the thought that an animal might have left such traces.

But proof of this was easy, and, standing beside the crushed flower, I stepped forward toward the upturned leaf. To my delight I found that the distance was about what I should judge a man's pace to be; and once more, as if to reward my patience, a broken flower the same space away in a straight line caught my eye.

Here surely was evidence that some person had been walking there, and, though I saw no further signs, these three marks gave me the general direction of the traveler, and spurred me on to continue the pursuit. True, it might not be the Indian at all,-but I put this thought from me.

I went forward more cautiously now, alert to catch any other indication that I had reasoned truly, yet found naught more to point the way; but I reflected that I had a redskin to deal with, and tales of them had taught me that I should

not have seen his three footprints had he not been careless or indifferent.

After a space, I began again to doubt that I was on the right track, and presently stopped in despair. To go on blindly through that great forest would lead to naught, and I was about to turn back when I bethought me of a tale I had been told, namely, that distant sounds can be heard if one sets an ear to the ground.

In an instant I had dropped to my knees, and, brushing aside the dry leaves, pressed my head against the damp earth, listening with all my might.

At first there was silence, then soft pats upon the ground came to me faintly. Straining every nerve, I caught a regular beat like the slow jogtrot of a man. Moreover, I judged it to be not far away.

I leaped to my feet, ready to shout "Jacky" at the top of my voice; yet, ere I did so, a new thought entered my mind, and I put my hand to my mouth to stifle the cry. I was sure that if the Indian knew he was being followed, my chance of ever catching up with him would vanish. Naught save his carelessness, and great good luck on my part, had brought me thus near him. I must still be cautious till I sighted him.

I pressed forward at top speed, and presently came to a brook running merrily among the gray stones. In two minds whether to cross or not, I stopped to listen. This time I heard no sounds, though I crushed my ear closer than ever to the damp earth.

"He has halted," I said to myself as I arose; but somehow I did not feel sure of it.

"Nay," I murmured, on second thought, "he has taken to the brook to hide his trail. I've heard of that Indian trick."

Of this I felt certain and was gladdened, for now I had only to take the merry stream as my guide, and could push on more rapidly.

And at last I had my reward! My long chase was not in vain. Ahead of me, picking his way carefully among the stones, was a tall Indian, and on his back he carried Jacky. My heart nigh ceased its beating with joy at the sight.

"Jacky!" I cried at the top of my voice; "Jacky! Jacky!"

CHAPTER VII

THE EAGLET

My shout halted the savage abruptly, and he wheeled about to face me, showing plainly enough that my appearance was a complete surprise; but he waited only an instant, then turned, and, stepping out of the water, plunged into the woods. With a bound across the little stream,

I took after him as fast as I could; for, having come this far, I was not to be put off.

"Jacky!" I kept calling as I ran; "Jacky! Wait for me!" And though I did not gain, the Indian, hampered by the boy, did not draw away from me, and we raced on for a time, neither securing any advantage.

But at length my breath began to come in shorter gasps, and I knew that in the end I must be distanced.

Jacky, however, now took a hand in the matter, and I heard him crying at the top of his voice:

"I tell you 't is Aunty Peg! I will stop and speak to her!" and I saw him beat the warrior about the head with his little fists.

I had no hope that the boy's childish efforts would deter the Indian, but to my surprise and delight, the savage stopped in obedience to his orders, and set him upon the ground, where they waited till I came up to them.

"Oh, Jacky!" I panted, "what are you doing out of bounds alone?"

"I'm not alone, Aunty Peg," he answered readily and with truth. "We're going to shoot a deer; Uncle Hal is taking care of muvver, so I'm not needed at home, and I 'm not naughty."

It all came out in such a burst of injured innocence that I saw he had no idea he was doing aught he should not have done, and for a moment I was at a loss.

"The fledgling must some day leave the nest," said the Indian, in a deep voice. "To chain it is to cripple it, but even an eaglet must be taught to fly."

"The Eaglet 's my Indian name. I like it better than Jack," put in the boy, complacently; but I heeded not his words, for I was looking at the redskin before me. His face was familiar, as if, perchance, I had seen him before, but I could in no wise place the time or circumstance. He was adorned as for a ceremony. His moccasins were rich with beads, his leggings fringed and embroidered with quills of the porcupine, and he was painted gaily with yellow, red, and white. On his head were two eagle feathers arrogantly upright, and he had the haughty manner of a chief.

Little Jack too, I noted, had a worked band about his head with two feathers sticking in it, and this afforded me much comfort, for I had heard that Indians strip of all ornament those they mean to harm. Thus there was no indication that any hurt was intended to the boy; nevertheless, the situation seemed threatening enough, and I decided that my best plan was to put a bold front on the matter, and show the savage that, at least, I was not afraid.