Then came a catastrophe.  Rainey leaned too far forward, causing some rocks and loose snow to slide from beneath him, and, in another second he shot down a steep incline to what seemed certain death.

To his surprise, he found himself dropping straight down.  A hidden cliff here jutted out over the drifted snow.  To his much greater surprise, instead of being knocked senseless, he was immediately engulfed in what seemed an avalanche of snow leaping up to meet him.  His alert mind told him what had happened.  A blizzard of a few days previous had driven great quantities of snow against the cliff.  This snow was not hard-packed, and he had been buried in it by the fall.  The problem now was to avoid the tiger, who was sure to spring upon him at the first glimpse and tear him in pieces.  Then, suddenly, there flashed through his mind a picture left over from his boyhood days.  It was that of a cat endeavoring to catch a mole, which burrowed industriously beneath the snow, raising a ridge as he burrowed.  Could he play the part of the mole, as the tiger was sure to play the part of the cat?  It was his only chance.  His companion would not dare to shoot until he knew where Rainey was.

Putting himself in the position of a swimmer, the sailor began pawing at the snow and kicking it with his feet.  The snow was hard packed against his face and he thought his lungs would burst.  But he was making progress.  Now, he dared back off a trifle and take a long breath of air from the burrow he had made.  Then a sound stirred him to renewed effort.  It was the thud and jar of an impact.  The tiger, having made his first leap, had missed.  How many more times would he do this?  The boy once more jamming his head against the snow renewed his swimming motions.  Again he was obliged to pause for breath.  Again the tiger sprang; this time, seemingly, he was more accurate.  Again the race was renewed.  The boy’s mind was in a whirl.  Would his companion understand and risk a shot as the tiger prepared for another spring?  He hoped so.  Surely, he could not endure the strain much longer.  One thing he was certain of, he could not hear the report of the rifle if a shot were fired.  He must struggle on in ignorance of what was going on above him.  The thought was maddening.  The air in the narrow channel was stifling; yet, he burrowed on, and heard again the heavy impact.

He had burrowed his length and backed off again for breath, when he was forced to the realization that he could endure the air of the channel no longer.  Apparently, the tiger’s last leap had completely closed it.

Resolving to fight his way out, and then to trust all to flight, he thrust his hands upward and again began to burrow.  With dizzy brain and wildly beating heart, he felt at length the fresh, frosty air upon his cheek.

But what was this that reached his ears?  Surely not the roar of the tiger.  Instead it was the joyous cry of his companion.