“We’re all in the same boat,” replied Boxy. “I can scarcely drag one foot after the other.”
“And I feel like sitting down and going to sleep,” put in Andy. “Let us rest.”
“No! no!” rejoined his elder brother, quickly. “If you rested and went off into a doze you would never wake up again. We must keep on by all means!”
And on they pressed, slowly and painfully, growing more weary at every step. The snow and wind continued, and it grew steadily darker. Would that awful trip across the lake never come to an end?
At last, when they were about ready to give up in despair, Harry, in advance of all the rest, gave a joyous little shout.
“The shore, boys!”
“Where? where?” they cried out in chorus, and clustered around him.
“Just off to our right. We have been walking along within fifty feet of it.”
“Gracious, you don’t mean it!” exclaimed Boxy. “True enough, boys; come on to land and get a fire started!”
Boxy set off as fast as he could on skates through the snow. The others followed, Jack and Pickles dragging the sled.