"I—I guess I am—I don't know for sure," was the spluttered-out answer. "What a tumble that was!"
"There are the horses, down by the trees. I'm glad they didn't run any farther."
"The sleigh is a wreck!" said Dale, gazing sorrowfully at the upturned outfit. Then he looked at the gun which was still in his grasp. "It's lucky this didn't go off and hit one of us. Where is that bear?"
Both gazed around, but the beast was not in sight. Then they looked at the wrecked sleigh, at the horses, and then at each other.
"We're in a pickle, Owen!"
"It's a pretty snowy one, Dale. See what you can do with this sleigh, while I go and secure those horses. If they get away we shall be in a fix."
Securing the animals was easy, and a few gentle words soon quieted them down. Then Owen tied them fast and returned to where he had left Dale.
On examination they found that one of the runners of the sleigh was cracked, but not broken completely off, and around the cracked portion they wound some stout cord, making it almost as strong as before. Then they turned the outfit right side up and searched about for the load, which had been spilled in all directions.
"It's snowing harder than ever," said Dale. "And some of the things I can't see anywhere."
"I've got to mend that harness," came from his chum.