Excitement on Ball Glacier.

“Twice we approached the top of the glacier, and twice we skied down to the base, a distance of about a mile and a half. By this time the snow was freezing hard, and the prospects for one final flutter down the glacier seemed too tempting to miss. Accordingly a competition was arranged, and free drinks were offered to the one who could ski right down the glacier and fall the fewest number of times.

“George started. Away he went like the wind. Could he conquer that first rise? Yes! And that broken part? Wonderful! Hullo! He's over! Away goes the next one, and others follow in quick succession.

“‘Fast,’ was no name for it; yet we were all surprised at our freedom from spills. Could it last? Hullo! Here's trouble! One lady is overtaking one of the men. A collision is inevitable. But no! Rather than crash she sails in behind him and, with clever presence of mind, catches hold of his shoulders, and both glide perfectly for fully a quarter of a mile, until at last the tension becomes too great, and over they go.

“Everybody covered the distance with only three spills each.”