And the last thing Rick remembered was the distant barking of his dog.

Then the boy fell into the drift, making a hole as he plunged into the soft ma.s.s of snow. Down, down he went, he and his sled. And then Rick disappeared from the view of Ruddy up on top of the hill.

CHAPTER XXI

THROUGH THE ICE

How long he lay in the blackness, which was caused by the blow on his head, Rick did not know. But when he opened his eyes, to find himself lying half under his sled which had fallen with him, it was dark all about him--that is, all dark except a faint light which came from the snow pile into which he had tumbled. That made a gleam of whiteness even when all else was black.

"I wonder--I wonder what happened?" asked Rick, speaking in a faint voice.

Then it came back to him--how he had taken one last coast down the hill, how something had slipped and how he had fallen down into the hole in the snow.

That was where he found himself now, and, as he opened his eyes, though his head hurt him very much as he did this, he saw the snow all about him.

And then Rick heard the barking of a dog, and at once he knew whose dog it was.

"That's Ruddy!" he murmured. "Good, old Ruddy! Here, Rud! Rud!" he called.

The barking came louder, and Rick looked up toward the top of the hole.

It was as if he were down in a well, the sides of which were made of snow. At the top he could see the sky, from which the last glow of the sun had faded, but a few stars were glittering there. And Rick saw something else. It was the head of Ruddy.

Ruddy was leaning over the hole in the snow drift, looking down at Rick who had fallen to the bottom.

"Come on down, Ruddy. Come and help me up!" called Rick, after he had tried to move and found that he could not. Something seemed to be the matter with one of his legs, and when he turned his head the least bit, he felt dizzy. It even hurt him to call to his dog.

And no sooner had Rick told Ruddy to jump down into the snow hole with him than he wished he had not done so.

"If Ruddy comes down here," thought Rick, "he can't get out either, and then we'll both be in a hole! Stay back, Ruddy! Stay back!" he called, faintly.

But there was no need to tell Ruddy that. The setter was a wise dog, and though he very much wanted to aid his master, he was not going to run into danger himself, and so make it impossible for him to help Rick.

Ruddy was a wise dog.

He had seen Rick go down in the snow drift, and at first thought nothing of it. It was not the first time Rick had toppled into the snow that day.

But when several minutes went by, and Rick did not come out, laughing as he always did, Ruddy became uneasy. He ran down the hill, almost as fast as the coasting sled had gone down, and when he came to the edge of the hole he stopped. That was where Ruddy was wise.

If he had gone on much farther he would have slipped into the drift himself, and, while he might have been able to flounder his way out, he would not have been of any use to his master.

So Ruddy stopped on the hard, firm edge of the hole, at the place where Rick had toppled in. And there Ruddy stood, looked down at his master, and barked.

Ruddy could not see as well, by looking down into the hole of snow, as Rick could see by looking up, but the dog knew his master was there.

"Stay up there, Ruddy! Stay there!" called Rick, faintly, trying to fight off the feeling of weakness and the blackness that appeared to be trying to cover him with a heavy blanket. "Stay up there--and go get help! Go home, Ruddy!"

Ruddy barked again, and there was a different meaning to it. If another dog had been there he could have very easily have understood what Ruddy was saying. It was this:

"All right, Master! I'll go home! I'll go get help! But I just wanted you to know that I wasn't going to run off and leave you all alone. I'm going to help you, but I can't do it if I jump down there with you."

Giving a last bark, as if to tell Rick to keep up his courage and not to worry, Ruddy sprang away, and raced up the hill toward home.

Rick had a final glimpse of his dog as the animal drew back from the top of the well-like hole in the snow. Then Rick decided to try to do something for himself.

"I wonder why I can't get up and dig my way out?" he asked himself. "I can use my sled for a shovel."

But when he tried to move he felt such a sharp pain in his leg, and his head pained him so, and he felt so dizzy, that he had to stop. The night seemed to be settling down now, blacker than ever. Rick could see no stars now, but he began to feel a warm glow coming over him, as though he had drawn near some blazing fire.

Somehow Rick remembered reading that travelers, overcome in the snow, felt this warmth before they lost their senses and froze to death. And he tried to fight off the drowsiness.

"I must wake up! I must wake up and dig my way out of here!" he said to himself over and over again. But each time he tried to move he was unable.

And then for a time he knew nothing. He just lay there, all crumpled up at the bottom of a deep hole in the snow.

The next thing Rick knew was that he heard voices. At first they seemed to be a long way off, but they came nearer. Then he felt himself being moved, and he opened his eyes to see lights gleaming. He saw his father bending over him, lifting him up, and he heard his father's voice saying:

"Well, Rick, my boy! Ruddy did you another good turn! He brought us to you! Now you're all right!"

And somehow, though his leg still hurt him, and his head pained, Rick knew it was all right. He settled back in his father's arms, and felt himself being carried along, through a sort of snow tunnel.

And that is just the way Rick was taken out of the hole into which he had fallen with his sled. Ruddy, after leaving his master, having barked, as well as he knew how to tell him what he was going to do, had raced home. There he acted so strangely, grasping Mr. Dalton by the coat, and fairly pulling the boy's father toward the door, that Mazie cried:

"Oh, what makes Ruddy act so funny? Something must be the matter!"

"Something has happened to Rick!" exclaimed Mrs. Dalton. "I know it!"

"I think that must be it," her husband replied. "I'll go with Ruddy and see."

Quickly putting on his hat, Mr. Dalton went out with the dog, and Ruddy showed, very plainly by his joyful barks, that this was just what he wanted.

"It's just like the time Rick fell out of the tree when he was chestnutting," said Mazie.

"But he wouldn't be climbing trees now," said Mrs. Dalton, who was beginning to get worried. "Rick went coasting."

"Maybe he went so fast that his sled climbed a tree," suggested the little girl.

And Ruddy led Mr. Dalton right to the hole down which Rick had fallen with his sled. Mazie had not guessed it quite right. The sled had taken her brother down, not up.

Flashing the rays of a pocket electric torch he carried, down into the hole in the snow, Mr. Dalton saw Rick lying at the bottom, and it did not take the father long, with the help of some neighbors who brought shovels, to dig a tunnel through the snow to where Rick was and carry him out of the drift. If they had started to get him from above they might have caved the pile of snow down on top of him.

"But what made my head feel so funny?" asked Rick, when he had been taken home, put to bed and the doctor called.

"You struck on your head pretty hard," answered Dr. Wayne with a smile.

"It made you partly unconscious at times, and then you got numb with the cold, and almost went too sound asleep."

"Is my leg broken?" asked Rick. "I couldn't stand up on it."