All of the young hunters were willing to leave the Marshes, for the increasing wind made the situation decidedly unpleasant. When they turned back they had both the wind and the pelting snow in their faces and could scarcely see where they were going.
"Isn't this fierce!" gasped Shep, after they had walked less than fifty yards. "I never felt the wind blow so strongly!"
"We get the full sweep of it out here," answered Shep. "It won't be so bad when we reach the timber again."
The mind was fairly whistling around them now. They could not tell how much snow was falling, for much of it was caught up from where it lay and sent hurtling along, now in straight dashes and then in mad circles that blinded and bewildered them. More than once they had to turn around to catch their breath and clear their eyes.
"I wish we we-were to th-the timber!" gasped Giant. "I feel as if the wind was going to pick me up and carry me away!"
"Let us keep close together," said Whopper. "There is no telling what will happen with such a wind tearing down upon us."
They were all scared and with good reason, for to be caught in a blizzard on that wide stretch of marshland was a serious matter. Sticking as closely together as possible they hurried on, as fast as the gale and the flying snow would permit. The air was growing darker and heavier every moment.
"Are you sure you are heading for the timber?" questioned Whopper, presently. "I must confess I am completely turned around."
"So am I," added Shep.
"I—I think the timber is in that direction, but I am not certain," answered the leader of the club, pointing with his hand.