s these from the sloping roofs, and precipitates them in
masses to the ground. These miniature avalanches are dangerous, people
having been seriously injured and sometimes killed by them. Now it
happened that a very large mass of snow, which lay on and partly
depended from the roof of the house near to which the horses were
standing, gave way, and just at that critical point in Tom Whyte's
speech when he "'ad 'im down to the smith," fell with a stunning crash
on the back of Mr Kennedy's gray mare. The mare was not "skittish"--by
no means--according to Tom's idea, but it would have been more than an
ordinary mare to have stood the sudden descent of half a ton of snow
without _some_ symptoms of consciousness. No sooner did it feel the
blow than it sent both heels with a bang against the wooden store, by
way of preliminary movement, and then rearing up with a wild snort, it
sprang over Tom Whyte's head, jerked the reins from his hand, and upset
him in the snow. Poor Tom never _bent_ to anything. The military
despotism under which he had been reared having substituted a touch of
the cap for a bow, rendered it unnecessary to bend; prolonged drill,
laziness, and rheumatism made it at last impossible. When he stood up,
he did so after the manner of a pillar; when he sat down, he broke
across at two points, much in the way in which a foot-rule would have
done had _it_ felt disposed to sit down; and when he fell, he came down
like an overturned lamp-post. On the present occasion Tom became
horizontal in a moment, and from his unfortunate propensity to fall
straight, his head, reaching much farther than might have been expected,
came into violent contact with the small Indian boy, who fell flat
likewise, letting go the reins of the horses, which latter no sooner
felt themselves free than they fled, curvetting and snorting round the
court, with reins and manes flying in rare confusion.

The two boys, who could scarce stand for laughing, ran to the gates of
the fort to prevent the chargers getting free, and in a short time they
were again secured, although evidently much elated in spirit.

A few minutes after this Mr Grant issued from the principal house,
leaning on Mr Kennedy's arm, and followed by the senior clerk, Peter
Mactavish, and one or two friends who had come to take part in the
wolf-hunt. They were all armed with double or single barrelled guns or
pistols, according to their several fancies. The two elderly gen