“Don’t get flurried—that’s the main thing, lass. Let me think—ay, that’s it—you’ve got your belt?”
“Yes.”
“Well, take it off and drop the end over to me; but lie down on your breast, and be careful.”
Nelly obeyed, and in a few seconds the end of the worsted belt that usually encircled her waist was dangling almost within reach of her brother. This belt was above five feet long. Roy wore one of similar material and length. He untied it, and then sought to lay hold of the other. With some difficulty and much risk of falling he succeeded, and fastened his own belt to it firmly.
“Now, Nell, haul up a little bit—hold! enough.”
“What am I to do now?” asked Nell, piteously; “I cannot pull you up, you know.”
“Of course not; but take your snow-shoe and dig down to the rocks—you’ll find somethin’, I dare say, to tie the belts to. Cheer up, lass, and go at it.”
Thus encouraged, the active little girl soon cleared away the snow until she reached the ground, where she found several roots of shrubs that seemed quite strong enough for her purpose. To one of these she tied the end of her belt, and Roy, being an athletic lad, hauled himself up, hand over hand, until he gained a place of safety.
“But the sledge is gone,” cried Nelly, pausing suddenly in the midst of her congratulations.
“Ay, and the grub,” said Roy, with a blank look.