“I think we ought to leave the sled,” he shouted.
Kent nodded, knocking snow off of his collar. “I have been thinking that, too,” he returned. “We can’t make any progress with it.”
“We’ll put it somewhere near a landmark, so that we will be able to find it again,” Barry proposed, trying to look around. “After the storm we can come back and locate it.”
“If we ever do come back alive,” said Kent.
Barry slapped him on the back. “We’ll come back, all right. We’re only temporarily bewildered in a snowstorm. Let’s find a place to leave the sled.”
Kent took his flashlight off the hook on his belt and flashed it around. The light of it revealed falling flakes and an ever-increasing depth of snow on the ground. Advancing a few yards, they came to a tall shaft of rock and earth that formed a shelter from the driving power of the New England storm. It was with relief that they got out of the direct path of the wind.
“Here is as good a place as any,” Barry proclaimed, pulling the sled in close to the foot of the small bluff. “We may have a hard time finding the spot, but at least we know the sled will be under an overhang of dirt and stone. This wouldn’t be a bad place in which to spend the night, if we had to.”
“I hate the thought of staying out in this cold all night,” Kent shook his head.
“So do I. Seems like my skin is pinched hard. I wonder if we can’t start a fire going here and eat something?”
Kent again flashed the light around. “It will be a hard job, but it will be worth trying. I think we can get some dry wood out of that log over there. As long as we have the sled with us, we ought to use the food on it.”