There was a world of gratitude in Fanny's sweet blue eyes, when occasionally she would modestly turn them up to Little Wolf as they rode in silence. Daddy was to much absorbed in holding the reins to think of anything else, and as they neared the last long hill he drew a sigh of relief, "'tween you an' me, we're all right so fur," he said. The words were scarcely out of his mouth before they were half way up the hill. Just on the brow they saw a two horse team, which as the road was narrow and the sides precipitous and rocky could only be passed with safety where it then was. Imagine then the dismay of the little party as they saw the heavy sled descending, and the driver madly urging on his horses. Daddy shouted at the top of his voice, Little Wolf sprang upon her feet and waved her handkerchief with all her might, and little Fanny said dispairingly, "Oh its Mr. Wycoff, he is drunk, oh he _will_ run over us." Down, down, with fearful rapidity came the heavy team, the driver flourishing his whip and shouting dreadful oaths; while like lightning leaped Fleet Foot onward to his destiny. An instant more and Little Wolf had thrown Fanny from the sleigh and leaped after her down the side hill. There was a crash, a prolonged neigh; Fleet Foot's death yell, as, for an instant, he hung suspended from the sleigh, which had caught on a projecting rock, and all was silent save the distant clatter of horses' hoofs and the faint hallos of the drunken maniac. At the moment of the collision, Daddy had risen to his feet and was in some unaccountable way thrown uninjured into the road. Although stunned and bewildered by the fall, his faculties gradually brightened and he was soon in a condition to survey the scene. On a ledge of rocks overhanging the precipice was the forlorn wreck of the once fanciful little sleigh. In the depths below lay Fleet Foot, stretched motionless upon the rocky bottom. The deep ravine into which he had been plunged ran angling, and formed the point, where by her presense of mind Little Wolf had saved herself, and Fanny from almost certain death. At this point the hill was less steep, and the snow had fallen to a great depth, forming a bed as soft as down, and cushioning the very rocks. Upon this capacious couch of unsullied whiteness, lay Little Wolf and Fanny. Powerless himself to render any assistance, Daddy opened his mouth and there went forth a wail such as caused Little Wolf to start and shudder as she thought of what it might portend. But her worst fears were in a moment dispelled, as she saw Daddy's anxious face bending imploringly over the bank. "Honey" said he most dolefully. "Yes, Daddy." "'Tween you an' me, you ain't hurt nun, be you?" "Not very much, Daddy, but when I try to rise I only sink deeper in the snow. Hark! I hear the sound of bells."