The path below this point swung over to the side of a rushing brook, and they began to enter a region where the lumbermen had been, stripping the forest down to bare soil and leaving behind dry, ugly slash. The path grew steeper every moment. The brook went down the mountain in a series of cascades, one after the other, and at almost every waterfall the path beside it dropped almost as steeply. In some places there were rough ladders to descend by. At other places you simply had to swing over a root and drop, often landing in soft, wet leaf-mould, and sinking up to the ankles.
"Steep? Well, I should smile!" said Peanut. "Say, fellers, don't you wish we were going up instead of down?"
"Can't say I do," Frank answered. "I don't see how anybody does get up here, 'specially with a heavy pack. Wasn't this path ever better than this?"
"It must have been once. The water has washed it," the Scout Master replied.
Just then they came to a six foot drop, and Frank took it first. He unslung his camera at the bottom, and snapped the rest as they came tumbling after him.
"That'll prove we had some steep work, all right," he said.
"I believe if my pants were stronger, I'd just sit down and slide the rest of the way," Peanut laughed.
But such steep descents have one great advantage*
