Meanwhile, the wind shrieked through the forest above their "hideout," and the snow continued to fall as though it had no intention of ever stopping. The hours dragged by toward dark—and an early dark it would be on this stormy day.
"Oh, if we only had something to eat!" groaned Heavy. "Wish I'd saved my snow-shoes."
"What for?" demanded Bell. "What possible good could they have been to you, silly?"
"They were strung with deer-hide, and I have heard that when castaway sailors get very, very hungry, they always chew their boots. I can't spare my boots," quoth Jennie Stone, trying to joke to the bitter end.
The wind wheezed above them, the darkness fell with the snow. Beyond the glow of the pile of coals on the rocky ledge, the curtain of snow looked gray—then drab—then actually black. Moon and stars were far, far away; none of their light percolated through the mass of clouds and falling snow that mantled these big wastes of the backwoods.
"Oh! I never realized anything could be so lonely," whispered Helen in Ruth's ear.
"And how worried your father and Mrs. Murchiston will be," returned her chum. "Of course, we shall get out of it all right, Helen; but did you ever suppose so much snow could fall at one time?"
"Never!"
"And no sign of it holding up at all," said Madge, who had overheard.
"Sh! Belle and Lluella have curled up here and gone to sleep," said
Helen.