They started down. At the inclined plane Peanut decided to slide. He crouched on his heels upon the smooth rock, and began to descend. But the rock sloped inward almost imperceptibly. Half-way down he was on the edge of the water, two feet more and he was in the water. His feet went out from under him, and sitting in the stream (which was only about three inches deep over the slide) he went down like lightning, into the brook below! The rest set up a shout. Peanut got up upon the farther bank, and stood dripping in the path. He was soaked from the waist down. “Ho, what do I care? It’s a warm day,” said he. But he pulled off his boots and emptied the water out of them, and then wrung out his stockings and trousers. The rest didn’t wait. They went laughing down the path, and Peanut had to follow on the run. When he caught up, everybody was looking very stern. “Now, Peanut, no more nonsense,” Mr. Rogers said. “You’ll keep to the path hereafter. We want no broken bones, nor colds, nor sore feet from spoiled shoes. Remember, this is the last time!” He spoke soberly, sternly. “Yes, sir!” said Peanut, not seeing the wink the Scout Master gave the rest. At camp they shouldered their equipment, stopped at the little store Mr. Sheldon kept in a wing of his house, to buy some provisions and to say goodbye, and at ten o’clock were tramping up the road of the narrow valley, with the blue bulk of Moosilauke directly south of them, Cannon Mountain just behind to the left, up which they had gone half-way to the falls, and directly on their left the northern ridges of Kinsman, covered with dense forest. Half a mile down the road Mr. Rogers led the way through a pair of bars, and they crossed a pasture, went panting up a tremendously steep path between dense young spruces, passed through another pasture, and began to climb a steep logging road. It was hard, steady plodding. “I’m gettin’ dry,” said Peanut, “but my pants still stick!” After a while, the path left the logging road, and swung up still steeper through the trees. Suddenly they heard water, and a moment later were standing on a shelf of rock over a waterfall, which came forth from one of the most curious formations they had ever seen. “Another chance for you to get wet, Peanut!” laughed Frank. “What is this place, Mr. Rogers?” “It’s called Kinsman Flume,” the Scout Master answered.