Lord Raglan and Sandie too had often been here before in the sweet summer-time, when the banks of the stream were covered with wild-flowers, and glad fish leapt up in scores in every sunlit pool.
Sandie knew the place at once.
He nudged Willie, who was half asleep.
“Willie, Willie,” he cried, “we are saved. The horse has saved us from a terrible death.”
“Where are we?” muttered Willie.
“At Bruce’s cavern. I know it well. We must all get in before the storm comes on again. Arise, Willie, pull yourself together; there is no time to lose.”
Willie did arise, and leapt as nimbly down as his half-frozen legs would permit him.
Then Lord Raglan was unharnessed and led into the cave. Next the sleigh was dragged in, and hardly was this secured ere the blizzard came on again with redoubled fury. The mouth of the cave was so situated that the snow could not drift very far in, but in less than an hour it was entirely and completely snowed over, so that to all intents and purposes the boys were buried alive.
The snow at the cave mouth, however, only made it warmer within. So one of the lamps were lit, and Sandie proceeded to make a bed from the rugs and skins, but not before he had thrown one of the heaviest of these over Lord Raglan’s loins, kissed his soft snout, and wished him good-night.
A few minutes after both boys, huddled close together for warmth, had said their prayers, and were sound asleep.