He kept Josey upon the sled, so as not to exhaust his strength.

He rode himself, too, as much as he could; but he was obliged to jump off very frequently, to keep the oxen in a right direction.

He stopped occasionally to put down a rafter, placing it so that its length should be in the line of his road, and taking care to sink one end into the snow, so as to leave the other out as far as possible, to prevent its being all buried up before they should return.

Every now and then, too, he would answer the cry, as loud as he could call.
At last, after they had toiled along in this way for some time, Jonas thought that he succeeded in making the travellers hear; for, immediately after his call, he would hear a calling from them, following it, and speaking in a different way, though Jonas could not understand what was said.

He kept pressing forward steadily, and, before long, he found that the travellers were silent, excepting immediately after he called to them,--when there was a sound as if intended for a response, though Jonas could not tell what was said.
"We shall get to them, Josey," said he.
"Who do you suppose it is ?" said Josey.
"I don't know; very probably some travellers lost upon the pond." Jonas was right in his conjecture: as they came nearer and nearer, the sounds became more distinct.
"Hal--loo!" vociferated Jonas.
"Hal--loo!" was the answer.