Despite his bluff I saw he was in pain and wanted him to return to the
Hive, but he insisted on finishing our job. Under his direction I
wallowed through the snowdrift, back and forth, trampling down a
passage, and then pressed the snow hard and flat, using the toboggan
like a plank. Meanwhile Mr. Hosmer bad turned very white and now dropped
onto the toboggan, limp and sick. The shock had upset his digestion. How
to get him home? Borrowing rails from the roadside fence I laid them
across the streak of open water in the middle of the brook, piled snow
over them, and dragged my patient across on the toboggan. I attempted to
haul him up the Knoll, but he protested, asserting that he was much
better and fully able to walk. He managed to crawl up the hill and left
me with directions to find Angus Cameron and join him in taking charge
of the slide in the afternoon.
After making half-a-dozen or more flying leaps over the brook on the new
conveyance, with as many jolts and tumbles in the snow, I managed to get
the hang of the thing, and could steer it over the course with
delightful ease, suggesting the flight of a bird.
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