THE NEXT THING SHE KNEW SHE WAS BURIED DEEP IN A SNOW DRIFT, AND JUDY WAS WHIZZING ON ALONE.—Page 224
But the warning had no meaning for Molly, whose experience in coasting was of a very mild and unexciting character. The shock of the rise caused her to lose her hold, and the next thing she knew she was buried deep in a snow drift and Judy was whizzing on alone into the unknown.
“I never did really enjoy coasting,” thought Molly, climbing out of the drift and shaking herself vigorously like a wet dog. “It’s all right if nothing happens, but something always does happen and then it’s a regular nuisance.”
Already the tracks of the sled were covered by the fast falling snow and it was impossible to see just where the tumble had occurred on the hillside.
“Judy,” called Molly, hurrying down the hill; while at the same moment Judy was calling Molly as she hastened back.
The two girls passed each other at no great distance apart, but they might have been as widely separated as the poles for all they could see or hear in the blinding snowstorm.
After calling and searching in vain, Judy started back to Wellington, feeling sure that her friend had gone that way; and Molly, who was gifted with no bump of location whatever, blindly groping in the snowstorm turned in the opposite direction.