“I just got up, Harry. I guess it’s rather late.” Jack looked at his watch. “Great guns! quarter to nine! Rouse up, boys, day has broke, and more!” he cried.
Soon every one in the hut was awake, and one after another they arose. Several had a light sprinkling of snow on their blankets, but the little that had sifted in had done no harm.
“We’ll fix that to-day so not a spoonful shall come in hereafter,” said Jack.
Pickles was the first to attempt to step outside. He uttered an exclamation of comical dismay.
“By golly! de snow’s dun covered up de fiah most!” he cried.
The colored youth was right. All about the fire, and also the hut, the soft covering of white lay to the depth of a foot and a half, and the cleared spot where the flickering embers lay had been narrowed down to a tiny circle.
“We’ll clear the snow away between the hut and the fire first,” said Harry. “Pickles, you can start to get breakfast.”
“Dat’s so, but what is we gwine to hab dis mornin’?” questioned the colored youth, soberly.
“We must hunt up our breakfast,” said Boxy.
“Let’s try to get a squirrel or two,” suggested Andy. “I saw a hole on one of the trees yesterday, close to where we built the first fire.”