"Uncle Barney, are you sure you know the way?" questioned Randy, as all came to a halt for a moment to turn their backs to the wind and catch their breath.
"Oh, yes, my lad! I know the way well enough," was the old lumberman's reply. "But, believe me, I didn't expect any such snowstorm as this when I went after you. I thought it would be just an ordinary fall."
"It seems to be getting heavier every minute," declared Jack, as he sheltered his eyes with his hand and tried to peer forth into the darkness. "Why, the snow is coming down in regular chunks!"
The flakes were indeed both heavy and thick, and the wind sent the snow sweeping across the ice, forming new ridges in every direction.
"The first thing you know, we'll be blocked completely," declared Randy, after they had progressed another quarter of a mile. "Just look at that wall of snow, will you?" and he pointed ahead, where a snowdrift was all of five feet high and rapidly growing higher.
The Rovers could see by his manner that the old lumberman was growing much disturbed. He led the way first in one direction and then in another. Then presently he called a halt.
"It ain't no use," he declared flatly. "I thought I could work my way around these snowdrifts, the same as I did when I came over to town after you. But the darkness and this heavy fall of snow is bothering me tremendously."
"What do you think we ought to do?" questioned Fred anxiously. The situation was making the youngest Rover boy a little fearful.
"I guess about the best thing we can do is to strike a bee-line for the island," answered Uncle Barney. "It won't be much harder to break through these snowdrifts than it is to try to find our way around them in this wind and darkness."
"Are you sure you know the way to the island?" questioned Jack, who knew only too well that it was the easiest thing in the world to get turned around in such a situation as this.