It proved a rough way; but Ellen still thought and called it "lovely." Often by the side of the stream there was no footing at all, and the girls picked their way over the stones, large and small, wet and dry, which strewed its bed; against which the water foamed, and fumed, and fretted, as if in great impatience. It was ticklish work getting along over these stones; now tottering on an unsteady one, now slipping on a wet one — and every now and then making huge leaps from rock to rock, which there was no other method of reaching, at the imminent hazard of falling in. But they laughed at the danger; sprang on in great glee, delighted with the exercise and the fun; didn't stay long enough anywhere to lose their balance, and enjoyed themselves amazingly. There was many a hair- breadth escape; many an _almost_ sousing; but that made it all the more lively. The brook formed, as Nancy had said, a constant succession of little waterfalls, its course being quite steep and very rocky; and in some places there were pools quite deep enough to have given them a thorough wetting, to say no more, if they had missed their footing and tumbled in. But this did not happen. In due time, though with no little difficulty, they reached the spot where the brook came forth from the wood into the open day; and thence, making a sharp turn to the right, skirted along by the edge of the trees, as if unwilling to part company with them. "I guess we'd better get back into the lane now," said Miss Nancy; "we're a pretty good long way from home." CHAPTER XII. Splitters. They left the wood and the brook behind them, and crossed a large stubble-field; then got over a fence into another. They were in the midst of this when Nancy stopped Ellen, and bade her look up towards the west, where towered a high mountain, no longer hid from their view by the trees. "I told you I'd show you where I live," said she. "Look up now — clear to the top of the mountain, almost, and a little to the right — do you see that little mite of a house there? Look sharp — it's a'most as brown as the rock — do you see it? it's close by that big pine-tree, — but it don't look big from here — it's just by that little dark spot near the top." "I see it," said Ellen — "I see it now; do you live away up there?" "That's just what I do; and that's just what I wish I didn't. But granny likes it; she will live there. I don't know what for, if it ain't to plague me. Do you think you'd like to live up on the top of a mountain like that?" "No, I don't think I should," said Ellen. "Isn't it very cold up there?" "Cold! you don't know anything about it. The wind comes there, I tell you! enough to cut you in two; I have to take and hold on to the trees sometimes, to keep from being blowed away. And then granny sends me out every morning before it's light, no matter how deep the snow is, to look for the cow; and it's so bitter cold, I expect nothing else but I'll be froze to death some time."