Just about the time that Bert was getting ready to try for a rabbit potpie by firing the gun from the door of Mrs. Bimby’s cabin, in the other and larger cabin at Cedar Camp the smaller Bobbsey twins were having a good time. There was no danger there of starving, for the cupboard was far from being bare.

But of course Mr. and Mrs. Bobbsey were worried because, after their long night of worry, neither Bert nor Nan had come back, and there was no news of them.

“But we’ll surely hear from them to-day,” said Tom Case, as he came over through the storm after breakfast to learn if Mr. Bobbsey had any special plans.

“How’s Old Jim?” asked Mr. Bobbsey, as the head of the sawmill workers came in out of the storm, for it was still snowing.

“Oh, Jim’s all right,” was the answer. “But he’s worrying about his wife not having any food. I came over to say that if the storm lets up a little maybe we’d better try to take something to eat to the old lady. She’s all alone in her cabin.”

Of course neither he nor Old Jim knew that the two older Bobbsey twins were at that very moment with Mrs. Bimby.

“All right, it would be a good idea,” said Mr. Bobbsey. “And we must make another search for Bert and Nan.”

“I have a sort of feeling that they’re safe,” said Mr. Case. “And, really, it wouldn’t be wise for you to start out in this storm to look for them. I think it may moderate a little by to-morrow.”

“Let us hope so!” sighed Mrs. Bobbsey.

“Can’t Old Jim come over and play with us?” asked Flossie.

“We want to have some fun,” added Freddie.

The two smaller twins had been as good as possible, but they were not used to being cooped up in the house, and there really was not much to do in the cabin. No toys had been brought along, for Mr. Bobbsey had not expected to stay very long in looking after his Christmas trees. And he certainly never counted on being snowed in.

“Yes, I’ll bring Old Jim over,” said Mr. Case. “He’s pretty good at making things with his pocket knife. Shouldn’t wonder but what he could cut you out a doll, Flossie.”

“Can he make boats?” asked Freddie.

“Sure he can!” said the sawmill foreman.

“Where you going to sail a boat in the snow, Freddie Bobbsey?” asked Flossie.

“I—I’ll have him make me a snow-boat!” the little fellow said.

“Pooh!” laughed Flossie. “There are ice-boats, ’cause we rode in one once, but there aren’t any snow-boats, are there, Daddy?”

“Well, perhaps Old Jim can make one,” her father said. “Bring him over, Tom. I want to talk to him and find out where would be the most likely place for Nan and Bert to have found shelter.”

The old logger, who seemed to have gotten over his exposure to the storm, came to the Bobbsey cabin, and he somewhat relieved the worries of Bert’s father and mother by saying there were a number of cabins of loggers and trappers scattered through the woods, and he had an idea that Bert and his sister might have reached one of these.

“Well, we’ll start out and look for them as soon as the storm lets up a little,” said Mr. Bobbsey.

Freddie and Flossie made great friends with Old Jim. They took to him at once, and when he cut out of a piece of wood a queer doll for Flossie, and made for Freddie a thin wooden wheel, which would turn around in the waves of heat arising from the hot stove, the children were delighted.

They climbed all over Old Jim, and laughed and shouted as though they had no cares in the world. And, as a matter of fact, they were not old enough to worry about Bert and Nan. They thought their older brother and sister would come along sooner or later.

Slowly the day of storm passed, but with no let-up in the falling snow. The wind, while it did not blow as violently as at first, was high and cold, so that the little Bobbsey twins could not go out.

And it was about the time that Flossie and Freddie were having such fun with Old Jim that, back in this same logger’s lonely cabin, Bert and Nan were wondering whether they would have anything to eat for supper.

As Nan had said, she did see two large rabbits when she looked from the window. And she called to her brother to get the gun from its place over the mantel.

“Land sakes!” exclaimed Mrs. Bimby, “there are two right in plain sight. Now Bert, if you’re any kind of a shot, maybe we’ll have rabbit stew for supper. Here, take the gun, but be careful!”

Bert knew a little about firearms, and he was not at all afraid as Mrs. Bimby put the shotgun into his hands. Then she opened the door for him, very carefully, so as not to frighten the rabbits.

“They’re still there, right on top of the snow!” called Nan, as she peered from the window on her side of the cabin. “I’m not going to watch you shoot them, Bert, though I am terribly hungry. And I’m going to hold my hands over my ears so I won’t hear the gun.”

Bert was quite excited, and did not pay much attention to what his sister was saying, but he was not so excited that he could not hold the gun fairly steady.

“Hold it close against your shoulder, then it won’t kick so hard,” Mrs. Bimby whispered in his ear, as she helped him get the shotgun in place, and pointed it for him out of the open door.

The rabbits were in plain sight now, two wild, gray bunnies, fat and plump. Bert took sight over the little point on the end of the gun. He held this sight as steadily as he could in line with one of the rabbits.

“Better shoot quick!” whispered Mrs. Bimby. “I think they see us and they’ll scoot away in a minute!”

Bert gave a steady pull on the trigger, not a sudden pull, which is not the right way to shoot. A sudden pull spoils your aim.

“Bang!” went the shotgun.

“Oh!” screamed Nan, who, in spite of having held her hands over her ears, heard the report.

“I got one! I got one!” excitedly cried Bert, as he saw one of the bunnies lying on the snow. The other had scampered off.

“Yes, you did get one, child!” said Mrs. Bimby, as she ran out into the storm and came back with the game. “Now we shan’t starve. I’ll make a potpie.”

This she did, stewing the rabbit with some dumplings she made from a little flour she had left in the bottom of the barrel. Bert and Nan thought nothing had ever tasted so good as that rabbit potpie.

“You’ll be quite a hunter when you grow up,” said Mrs. Bimby, when the meal was over. “You shot straight and true, Bert!”

“But you helped me,” said the Bobbsey boy. “I couldn’t have aimed the gun straight if you hadn’t helped me.”

“But I saw the rabbits, didn’t I?” asked Nan.

“Yes, dearie, you surely did,” said the kind old woman. “Now we shan’t starve for a couple of days, anyhow.”

“And then I can shoot more rabbits, or maybe some squirrels,” Bert declared.

“I hope by that time the storm’ll be over,” remarked Mrs. Bimby, “and that my Jim will come back.”

“Will he take us home, or bring our father here?” Nan questioned.

“I guess so,” Mrs. Bimby answered.

But as the snow kept up all the remainder of that day, and as it was still storming hard when night came, there did not seem much chance of the two older Bobbsey twins being rescued.

Again Bert and Nan spent the night in the little rooms of the cabin, but they slept better this time, Nan not even awakening for a drink of water. And in the morning Bert looked from a window and cried:

“Hurray! The snow’s stopping! I’m going to start out and go back to camp!”

“You are?” asked Nan. “Are you going to take me?”

“No,” said Bert. “You’d better stay here. I’ll go to camp and send daddy back in a sled for you. He can hitch a horse to one of the lumber sleds now that the snow is stopping, and he can ride you home. And if I find your husband I’ll send him back with a lot of things to eat,” he told Mrs. Bimby.

“I wish you would, dearie,” said the old woman. “But are you really going to start out, Bert?”

“Yes’m! My father and mother will be worried about us. I can get to camp now, I’m sure, as the storm is almost over.”

Mrs. Bimby, who, though not very wise, was kind, made him take a little lunch with him, packing up some cold boiled chestnuts and part of the cold rabbit meat. It was all there was.

“But maybe I’ll get to camp before I have to eat,” said Bert. “And I’ll send back help to you.”

So Bert started out, Mrs. Bimby showing him the direction he was to take. It was still snowing a little, but he hoped it would soon stop.