“And the storm is growing wilder every second,” added Andy.
“This will knock out hunting for a day or two, even if we strike a camp,” declared Boxy, breathing heavily, to keep up with the others.
“Oh, it will be all right if it stops snowing and the sun comes out,” returned Jack, as cheerfully as he could.
“By golly! it looks like it would snow fo’ a week!” cried Pickles. “Jess look how thick it am comin’ down now! Jess like somebody was a-shakin’ out a fedder-bed ober our heads!”
Pickles was right. The snow was now coming down so thickly that it seemed to fill every inch of the air. Their vision in every direction was cut off to but a few feet in front of them.
“Stick close together,” urged Harry. “If we become separated we’ll never find each other again.”
His timely advice was heeded and they bunched up so closely that they frequently took hold of each other’s arms.
It was hard work to drag the sled now, and two had to take hold instead of only one.
Finally they came to a long, solid drift of snow, all of six feet high, and two or three yards wide. Jack and Harry mounted to the top, and, despite the swirling snow and cutting wind, essayed to pierce the gathering darkness around them.
It was useless. Nothing but snow and ice was to be seen. Night was coming on, and they were lost in the pelting storm!