I did the
same. The hook I grabbed was frozen down; but Addison got his free, and
stuck it into Rufus's blue overcoat. It tore out, and down Rufus went
again, head and ears under. His head, in fact, slid beneath the edge of
the ice, but his back popped up.
Addison struck again with the hook--struck harder. He hooked it through
all Rufus's clothes, and took a piece of his skin. It held that time,
and we hauled him out.
He lay quite inert on the ice, choking and coughing.
"Get up! Get up!" we shouted to him. "Get up and run, or you'll freeze!"
He tried to rise, but failed to regain his feet, and collapsed.
Thereupon Addison and Thomas laid hold of him, and lifted him to his
feet by main strength.
"Now run!" they cried. "Run before your clothes freeze stiff!" The man
seemed lethargic--I suppose from the deadly chill. He made an effort to
move his feet, as they bade him, but fell flat again; and by that time
his clothes were stiffening.
"He will freeze to death!" Addison cried. "We must put him on his sled
and get him home!"
Thereupon we picked him up like a log of wood, and laid him on his
horse-sled.
"But he will freeze before we can get this old lame horse home with
him!" exclaimed Thomas.
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