Toma’s dark face was darker still, as if he had smothered, yet as the boys chafed his hands and listened for heart beats, a flicker of eye lashes showed a sign of life. Redoubling their efforts to bring the boy back, they were finally rewarded by a deep sigh from the dusky lips, and presently Toma’s dark eyes were open.
“Humph!” Toma grunted as he sat up uncertainly, and vigorously shook himself like a big dog. “No can breathe under snow. Think um see Happy Hunting Grounds.”
“It’s a miracle you didn’t!” exclaimed Dick fervently.
“Tell us how it all happened,” Sandy urged.
“Not know much,” Toma blinked, “come too quick. Something hit me. I see many stars, an’ whirl, whirl in snow. Feel like fly like bird, then big bump. All still. I can no breathe. All get like night, then I see you fellas.”
Overjoyed at the recovery of Toma, the boys could do little but discuss the narrow escape for some time. Finally they set to work untangling the dogs, and when that was done they started to repair the sledge.
It took more than three hours to fix the sledge so it was worthy of the trail, but they at last had the worst breaks spliced and lashed with leather thongs. By this time they were all so tired that they decided to pitch camp and fix something to eat. This they did as soon as they were on the floor of the gorge.
“We don’t need to be afraid of any more snow slides for some time to come,” Dick relieved their fears in that direction. “All the loose ice and stones was cleared out by that big avalanche.”
After an appetizing meal of broiled musk-ox, the boys slept for several hours. When they awakened they noticed for the first time a change in the sunlight, and were concerned at the approach of winter which this signaled.
“Seems strange to see evening come again,” remarked Sandy. “Wonder how it would feel to go to bed in honest-to-goodness darkness again?”