"Well, we are snowed in surely!" he cried, as he gazed around.
On all sides was a spread of dazzling white, and the snow was still coming down steadily. The pass behind them was totally blotted out, and they could see next to nothing ahead.
"The wust yet!" groaned Josiah Socket. "I calkerlated to be well sheltered by the time the snow was a-flyin'. What are we going to do?"
"I know what I am in favor of," said Mark, decidedly.
"What?"
"I'm in favor of getting down from this mountain somehow, to where we can strike better shelter and plenty of firewood, and water. We can't stay here all winter."
Mark's opinion was the opinion of all. They would wait for the snow to stop and then go on.
It was not until two o'clock in the afternoon that the fall ceased. But then the sun came out as if by magic, and on they went as rapidly as the animals with their burdens could travel. Two old miners had come up and they assisted in keeping to the proper trail. All kept on until darkness made it unwise to go further.
"We are getting down," said Bob. "It is not as cold as it was." And what he said was true, the temperature was at least fifteen degrees above what they had experienced on the mountains the night before.
The next morning the sun came out again and as it rose they started onward once more, resolved to make as much progress as possible. They were aiming for the valley of the Yuba River, a tributary of the Feather River, where gold had but recently been located.