After about five minutes' walking, his captor came to a large tree which had been torn up by the roots. Under this he quickly dodged, and entered what seemed to be a long, dark passage.
In spite of his good resolution, Wilby could not help a kind of groan at this.
"Shut up!" growled the bear, giving him a by no means gentle cuff on the side of the head.
Wilby did shut up, and for a time nothing was to be heard save the soft thump, thump, thump of the bear's broad feet on the hard floor of the passage.
At last they stopped. The bear gave something a kick, a door flew open inward, and then there burst upon the bewildered Wilby such a sight as he had never even dreamed of in his life before.
He found himself in a large room, flooded with light and warmth from a glorious wood fire that was crackling away in a huge fireplace at one end. At first he thought the whole place had just been newly whitewashed, but soon discovered his mistake.
Everything in and about that room was marble—white marble—pure and glistening as the snow outside. Floor, walls, ceiling, tables—they were all marble alike, and they looked wonderfully fine, with the firelight flashing upon them.
But before Wilby had time to take much more in, he heard a deep bass voice asking,—
"Hallo, Major! what have you got there?"
And turning his head, he saw a splendid white bear, a good deal bigger than his rescuer, coming toward them from the far end of the room.