It was a good hundred feet to the bottom--a steep, grassy slope that ran to the plain--and like two balls they catapulted the length of it.

For Neewa it was not so bad.

He was round and fat, and went easily.
With Miki it was different.

He was all legs and skin and angular bone, and he went down twisting and somersaulting and tying himself into knots until by the time he struck the hard strip of shale at the edge of the plain he was drunk with dizziness and the breath was out of his body.

He staggered to his feet with a gasp.