poor
animal struggled so violently at times that they had no easy task of it;
but at last the tree fell over, and we got the horse's leg free. It was
broken, however, and he could not get up.

As to the others, it was hard to say, there in the night and storm, what
we ought to do for them. In the woods a horse with a broken leg is
little better than dead, and in mercy is usually put out of its misery.
We knew that the four horses lying there were very seriously injured,
and Asa thought that we ought to put an end to their sufferings. But
Addison and I could not bring ourselves to kill them, and we went to ask
Tommy's advice.

The old man was pottering about the scoot, trying to recover his traps
and gun. He hobbled down to the brink of the chasm and peered over at
the disabled animals; but "I vum, I dunno," was all that we could get
from him in the way of advice.

At last we brought the horse blankets from the scoot and put them over
the suffering creatures to protect them from the storm. In their efforts
to get up, however, the animals thrashed about constantly, and the
blankets did not shelter them much. We had no idea where the horses were
that had run away.

At last, about midnight, we set off afoot up the trail to the nearest
lumber camp. Asa led the way with the lantern, and old Tommy followed
behind us with his precious traps. The camp was nearly six miles away;
it proved a hard, dismal tramp, for now the snow was seven or eight
inches deep. We reached the camp between two and three o'clock in the
morning, and roused Andrews, the foreman, and his crew of loggers. Never
was warm shelter more welcome to us.

At daybreak the next morning it was still snowing, but Andrews and eight
of his men went back with us. The horses still lay there in the snow in
a pitiful plight; we all agreed that it was better to end their
sufferings as quickly as possible.

We then went in search of the runaways, and after some time found them
huddled together in a swamp of thick firs about two miles down the
trail. We captured them without trouble and led them back to the scoot,
which we reloaded and sent on up to camp with Asa. Addison and I put
bridles on two of the horses,--Ducie and Skibo,--and rode home to the
farm.

It was dark when we got home, and no one heard us arrive. After we had
put up the horses, we went into the house with our dismal tidings. The
old Squire was at his little desk in the sitting-room, looking over hi