Suddenly Bart tripped over a root and fell full-length on the
snow. He tried to rise, but could not bear his weight upon his
foot, which gave way under him. His comrades, who had laughed at
first, sprang to help him. They drew him to one side, while Wilson
came to see what the matter was.

"It's nothing," explained Bart, as he stood with an arm flung over
the shoulders of Tom and Billy, while Frank, on his knees,
vigorously rubbed and manipulated his ankle. "I'll be all right in
a minute. It was a boob stunt for me to do."

"Nothing broken?" inquired Wilson anxiously.

"No," answered Frank, looking up but keeping on with his rubbing.
"I can feel that the foot's all right. He's just strained it a
little, that's all."

"Good," said Wilson. "You fellows come on after us then as soon as
you can," and he hurried back to his place.

Two or three minutes more and Bart was able to walk, although he
limped a trifle. They picked up their rifles and hurried after
their comrades.

In the gathering dusk they did not notice that a trail diverged
from the main one that they had been traveling, and they turned
into this side trail, straining their eyes through the whirling
snow to catch a glimpse of their comrades.