The remainder of the crackers and cheese brought out by Pickles was quickly eaten, and they set off.
It was growing cooler again, and the wind blew the snow in blinding masses into their faces. Onward they skated, until the drifts became almost impassable.
“I can’t skate through this!” cried Andy, at last.
“Let us take our skates off and walk,” suggested Boxy.
But Harry and Jack quickly vetoed this. It was just as easy to plow through the snow on skates, and it was easier to skate over the clear patches of ice than walk.
So they kept on their skates, and thereafter Jack helped his younger brother whenever Andy seemed in danger of pegging out.
“My ears are all but frozen,” said Boxy, at last. “My right one has no feeling in it any longer.”
“Rub snow on it,” suggested Harry. “And rub it on hard, too,” and he showed his companion how to do it.
“Dis am de werry worst trip I eber tuk,” declared Pickles, solemnly. “An’ I won’t take anudder in a long, long while.”
“If we could only see away ahead,” said Jack; “but the snow hides everything fifty feet off.”