"Maybe he wasn't alone," suggested Sam. "I'd hate to have a pack of foxes come down on me."
"I don't think you'll find any pack around here," answered Jack Wumble. "They ain't so plentiful. But I'll tell ye what we might run across, an Alaskan moose—an' they ain't no nice beast to meet at close quarters."
Some extra brushwood had been gathered before retiring and now a portion of it was heaped on the fire, so that they might have more light. The barking and yelping had died away in the distance, and all around the camp it was as silent as a tomb.
"It's snowing yet," remarked Sam, as he went out to look at the sky. "But it doesn't seem to be very heavy."
"If only we're not snowed in until after we find Tom!" murmured his brother.
Gradually the excitement died away and then they laid down to rest once more. But Dick was nervous and only got into a doze, and he was glad when morning came.
The sky was now dull and heavy, "jest filled with snow," as Jack Wumble expressed it. The soft flakes were still coming down, but no thicker than they had fallen during the night. The ground was covered with white to a depth of two inches. There was a gentle wind from the northwest.
"Let us not lose any more time than we can help," said Sam. "In such weather as this, every minute may count."
"Right ye are," responded the old miner. "We'll have breakfast quick as we kin an' be off."
Traveling that morning was comparatively easy and they covered quite a number of miles. But then they commenced to climb the mountain leading to Lion Head and Twin Rocks and progress became more difficult.