control himself, and
once more gave way to a fit of involuntary laughter. The head of the
old guardsman, standing up like a sphinx above the frozen surface,--his
grizzled hair powdered all over with snow like the poll of some grand
flunkey,--his long moustache loaded with it,--his eyes sparkling and
twinkling, and his features set in a serio-comic expression,--all
combined to form a picture that it was difficult to contemplate with
seriousness.

Alexis, however, anxious to ascertain as to whether Pouchskin had
received any dangerous wound, did _not_ this time join in his brother's
mirth; and, as soon as they came near enough, his inquiries were
directed to that end.

"Only scratched a bit, masters!" answered the old guardsman,--"only
scratched a bit--nothing much; but the bear--the bear! where has the
brute gone?"

"To his long home," answered Alexis; "you need be under no further
apprehension about him. I think your knife must have well-nigh settled
his account, for he was unable to get out of the hole again; but,
fortunately, I have finished him with a bullet, and it only remains for
us to haul his carcass up and take the skin off it. First, however, let
us endeavour to extricate you, my good Pouchskin; and then you can tell
us by what means you have managed to make an escape that certainly
appears miraculous!"

So saying, Alexis, assisted by Ivan, commenced digging away the hard
crust that surrounded the neck of Pouchskin; and kept on at it, until
they had uncovered his shoulders. Then seizing him by the arms--one on
each side--they drew him up, till his feet once more rested on the
surface of the snow.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

A SUBNIVEAN ESCAPE.

Pouchskin proceeded to describe the manner of his escape--his young
masters listening to him with great interest--although they already
guessed pretty nearly how it had been accomplished. Still there were
some points not so clear to them, which the old guardsman detailed.

In the first place, he had retreated from the bear, not because he
believed himself vanquished, but because he had lost his knife. Its
handle, wet with blood, had slipped from his grasp; and he could not
tell what had become of it! Finding himself unarmed, of course his next
thought was to get out of Bruin's way, for what could an unarmed man do
in the embrace of a bear--and such a bear?

He then turned and ran; but he had quite forgotten the dangerous
character of the snow-bed--the br