“I’ll make snowshoes for all of us,” said Russ, as he and Laddie went slowly around the corner of the barn.  “Then we can play Indians, and go on a long walk and take our dinner and stay all day.”

Together they walked around the barn.  They were getting used to the barrel-stave snowshoes now, and really did quite well on them.  Of course, now and then, one or the other’s fastenings would become loose, and they would have to stop and tie them.  Laddie got so he could do this for himself.

“It’s like when your shoelace comes untied,” he said.  “Did the Indians’ laces come untied, Russ?”

“I guess so.  But now come on.  We’ll go to the house and get some bread and jam.”

Russ and Laddie started out bravely enough, and they were half-way to the house when Russ said: 

“Oh, let’s see if we can get across that big drift!”

This was a large pile of snow, made by the wind into a small hill, and it must have been many feet deep—­well over the heads of the two small boys.

“Maybe we might get hurt there,” said Laddie.

“No, we won’t!” cried Russ.  “Come on.”

Russ was part way to the top when something happened.  All at once one leg sank away down, barrel-stave snowshoe and all, and a moment later he was floundering in the snow, and crying: 

“Hey, Laddie, I can’t get out.  I can’t get out.  Go and call Daddy or Grandpa!  I can’t get out!”

“Are you hurt?” asked Laddie.

“No.  But my foot is stuck away down under the snow, and I can’t pull it out.”

“I’ll go!” cried Laddie.

He never knew how fast he could travel on the home-made snowshoes until he tried.  Up to the side porch he shuffled, and, not stopping to unfasten the pieces of barrel on his feet, he called out: 

“Mother, come quick!  Russ is upside down and he can’t get his leg out!”

Inside the house Mother Bunker and Grandma Ford heard the queer thumping sound on the porch.

“I wonder what that is?” said Grandma Ford.

“Maybe it’s our friend that makes the queer noises, making a new one,” answered Mrs. Bunker.

Then they heard Laddie calling: 

“Oh, come quick!  Russ is upside down and his leg is stuck and he can’t get it out!  Oh, hurry, please!”

“Mercy me!” cried Mrs. Bunker.  “Something has happened!”

Out of the door she rushed, with Grandma Ford after her, and when they saw Laddie, with the barrel staves on his shoes, his mother asked: 

“What has happened?  What have you done to yourself?  What are those things on your feet?”

“Snowshoes that Russ made,” was the answer.  “He’s got some on his own feet, but he fell into a snow bank and he can’t get out and he’s hollerin’ like anything!”

“Oh, that’s too bad!” cried Grandma Ford.  “But if he fell into a snow bank it’s so soft he won’t be hurt.  But I’ll get Grandpa to dig him out.”