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. The black gravel on the path
was only a few inches deep, with ordinary clay below,
and when Chane put his shoulders to the tow-vines and
dragged the sled, it plowed up a growing mound of black
pebbles in front, and left bare clay behind.
'That's perfect," Chess grinned. "Just head for the
curve, and keep going straight ahead when you get there.
I'm right behind you."
"That's comforting to know," the dwarf growled.
When he came to the curve, Chane was barely mov-
ing. The load of gravel ahead of the skid had grown so
that it took all his strength to move it. He hesitated at the
edge of the path, confronted by cats. Then showers of
black gravel began to fly over his shoulders, some of it
pelting him from behind as the kender flung enthusiastic
handfuls as fast as he could. The cats snarled and
snapped, but backed away. "Take the weights off the
skid," the dwarf called.
"Why?" Another handful of gravel flew, one fair-sized
pebble catching Chane on the cheek as he turned.
"So it will spread the gravel instead of scooping it!
Don't argue, just do it!"
Chess removed the weights, then resumed showering
gravel as Chane took up his harness again.
By the time the skid was exhausted, the pathway south
of the curve had a bare clay stripe angling from its center
to the turning edge, and a new black path the width of
the strip extended fifty feet into the forest
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