“Say! this is altogether too rough,” Nat declared. “It’s no fun being tossed about like beans in a sack. I’d better turn ’em around.”
“You’ll tip us over, Nat,” objected Tavia.
“Likely to,” admitted the young man. “So we’d better both hop out while I perform the necessary operation.”
“Maybe they will get away from you,” she cried with some fear. “Be careful.”
“Watch your Uncle Nat,” he returned lightly. “I’ll not let them get away.”
Tavia was the last person to be cautious; so she hopped out into the snow on her side of the sleigh while Nat alighted on the other. A sharp pull on the bits and the blacks were plunging in the drift to one side of the half beaten track. Tavia stepped well back out of the way.
The horses breasted the deep snow, snorting and tossing their heads. Their spirits were not quenched even after this long and hard dash from The Cedars.
The sleigh did go over on its side; but Nat righted it quickly. This, however, necessitated his letting go of the reins with one hand.
The next moment the sleigh came with a terrific shock into collision with an obstruction. It was a log beside the road, completely hidden in the snow.
Frightened, the horses plunged and kicked. The doubletree snapped and the reins were jerked from Nat’s grasp. The horses leaped ahead, squealing and plunging, tearing the harness completely from their backs. The sleigh remained wedged behind the log; but the animals were freed and tore away along the road, back toward North Birchland.