As I returned with this, I noticed that the sky had grown overcast and that a few great flakes of snow were falling lazily through the cold, motionless air. A short time before I would have been greatly troubled by the indications of a heavy snowfall, but now, with my foot completely recovered, well clothed, and fully convinced that it was useless to think of making my way to the settlements before spring, a few inches or feet of snow, more or less, was of little moment.
I found the hornbeam very hard to work, and by the time I was compelled to put it aside, on account of darkness, I had accomplished little save to whittle the staff to half-round form.
CHAPTER XI
AN UNEXPECTED MEETING
When I looked from my door the next morning I found a blizzard raging, while the snow was drifted almost to the eaves of my tiny cabin.
I was indeed thankful that I had enough food on hand to satisfy my wants for a number of days, for to hunt or trap in such weather was an utter impossibility. My stock of fire-wood was none too large, however, and I decided it would be wise to gather more before the storm prevented me from leaving my hut.
Accordingly, I bundled up in my furs and started out, but before I had traveled a hundred feet I gave up in despair and retraced my way toward the cabin, for the snow was up to my waist and to plow my way through it was absolutely impossible.
I was hopelessly snow-bound, for the present at least, but I cheered myself with the thought that when the storm eased the surface of the snow might freeze and form a crust which would support my weight.
For a day or two, at any rate, I would not suffer, and as the snow, banked around the hut, prevented the chill wind from entering, I was able to keep comfortably warm with a smaller fire than usual and could thus save a great deal of fuel. I was thinking on such matters, while working at my bow, when the idea of snow-shoes occurred to me. It was strange that I had not thought of them before, for I had used snow-shoes for sport and knew that every camp and house in the northern woods had snow-shoes hanging upon the walls for winter use. To think of snow-shoes was easy, but to make them was a very different matter, as I soon discovered.
I knew full well that I would not be able to produce a really fine pair of shoes, such as were used by the guides and dwellers in the north, but I thought that I would have no trouble in making some sort of affairs which would serve my purpose and would prevent me from sinking into the snow. My idea was to make the frames of elastic green wood, and string or net them with strips of hide or bark. To secure the withes for the frames I was obliged to face the storm and after a terrific struggle succeeded in reaching a little clump of young growth close to the cabin. Cutting a number of the slender shoots of birch, I fought my way back to the hut and, utterly exhausted by my exertions, threw myself on the bunk to recover my breath and strength.
I found little trouble in bending the birch withes in oval form. Lashing the two ends of each together, I placed braces or spreaders between the sides to hold them apart and then started to put on the netting. But here my troubles commenced. If I drew the thongs tight in one direction it loosened those which ran the other way; the strips of hide slipped on the frames; the frames sprung out of shape and twisted, and finally I discovered that to cover the frames with netting, even if I succeeded in fixing it in place, would require more thongs of hide or more strips of bark than I could furnish. Until I attempted the work I had no idea of the quantity of material which was required to cover snow-shoes with their netting, nor of the immense amount of labor necessary to make them. My respect for the makers of snow-shoes was vastly increased by the time I had labored for a few hours at my clumsy attempts, and I marveled that articles entailing so much work and such ingenuity could be sold at the prices I had heard quoted.