Soon he was back again at the same drift which had made him turn about and take another road.
"Now to find that Elephant," said Mr. Dunn.
All this while the Stuffed Elephant had been trying to wiggle out of the snowdrift. But, not being used to such work, he was not having very good luck. The snow was soft, and the more he wiggled the deeper in he sank.
"Oh, dear!" sighed the poor Elephant. "What am I going to do? The snowflakes are getting in my trunk! And they tickle me and make me want to sneeze. It's no fun to be in a snowdrift. I used to like to look at them through the window in the shop of Santa Claus, but they're prettier to look at than to be in.
"If only a lot of the Nodding Donkeys and four or five of the White Rocking Horses were here now, they could pull me out of this drift," went on the Elephant. "But they aren't, and I'll have to help myself. I wonder if I gave a trumpet or two through my trunk whether that would do any good?"
He was just about to try it when, all at once, he heard a noise.
"That sounds like an automobile," thought the Elephant. "I daren't move or trumpet if any real folks are around. I'll have to stay quiet and then—oh, then I'll sink deeper into the snow!"
Just then a man's voice said:
"It was right here I ran into the drift. The Elephant must be somewhere about here."
Dazzling lights shone in the Elephant's one eye that was not in the drift. He saw a big auto come to a stop just the other side of the snowdrift. And Mr. Dunn, for he it was, jumped out.