his lady who was thus doomed to so sudden and so
terrible a fate. I could see the sleigh floating for a time, and the
head of the horse, that was swimming. I sprang to a place which seemed
to give a chance of assisting them, and looked eagerly to see what had
become of the lady. The sleigh drifted steadily along, one of that
box-shaped kind called _pungs_, which are sometimes made so tight that
they can resist the action of water, and float either in crossing a
swollen stream, or in case of breaking through the ice. Such boat-like
sleighs are not uncommon; and this one was quite buoyant. I nothing of
the driver. He had probably sunk at once, or had been drawn under the
ice. The horse, entangled in the shafts, had regained the ice, and had
raised one foreleg to its surface, with which he was making furious
struggles to emerge from the water, while snorts of terror escaped him.
But where was the lady? I hurried farther up, and, as I approached, I
could see something crouched in a heap at the bottom of the floating
sleigh. Was it she--or was it only the heap of buffalo-robes? I could
not tell.

The sleigh drifted on, and soon. I came near enough to see that the
bundle had life. I came close to where it floated. It was not more that
six yards off, and was drifting steadily nearer, I walked on by the
edge of the ice, and shouted. There was no answer. At length I saw a
white hand clutching the side of the sleigh. A thrill of exultant hope
passed through me. I shouted again and again, but my voice was lost in
the roar of the crashing ice and the howling gale. Yet, though my voice
had not been heard, I was free from suspense, for I saw that the lady
thus far was safe, and I could wait a little longer for the chance of
affording her assistance. I walked on, then, in silence, watching the
sleigh which continued to float. We travelled thus a long distance--I,
and the woman who had thus been so strangely wrecked in so strange a
bark. Looking back, I could no longer see any signs of the horse. All
this time the sleigh was gradually drifted nearer the edge of the ice
on which I walked, until at last it came so near that I reached out my
stick, and, catching it with the crooked handle, drew it toward me. The
shock, as the sleigh struck against the ice, roused its occupant. She
started up, stood upright, stared for a moment at me, and then, at the
scene around. Then she sprang out, and, clasping her hands, fell upon
her knees, and seem