On one side of the creek the snow was swept away for the greater part, and along this cleared track they made their way, keeping a sharp lookout ahead for possible game.
“We ought to strike a few rabbits or squirrels, if nothing else,” said Jack.
“Unless the heavy storm keeps them from venturing out. It’s hard to find much in weather like this.”
“But rabbits must come out for food, even if the squirrels stay in.”
“They have their runs, and it’s hard to find them in the open. But come on, we’ll do our best toward gaining something for the larder.”
On and on they went, now over a cleared spot, and then again through a drift several feet high. It was tough walking, and before a mile had been covered both were puffing and blowing like a couple of porpoises.
“Let’s rest for a few minutes!” gasped Harry. “This takes the wind out of a fellow!”
“So it does. Come on behind the brush, where it is sheltered.”
They found a cleared spot where some thick bushes would protect them from the keen wind and here sat down on a pile of rocks to rest. They had been out just an hour without catching sight of the first thing to shoot.
“How I would love to stumble into a lot of partridges or wild turkeys!” exclaimed Jack. “Wouldn’t we just blaze into them, though?”