“Well, we’ll make a beeline for the opposite shore,” returned Harry. “If we keep on pushing like this, we ought to make it by a little after noon, and that will give us plenty of time to select a spot for a permanent camp before night comes.”
“That’s true.”
“There is one thing we must guard against, and that is airholes. This drifting snow is apt to cover them so a fellow can’t see them until it is too late.”
“We’ll keep our eyes peeled,” returned Jack, and he called out instructions for those behind to do the same.
On and on they went, keeping the straightest line they could without anything to aid their eyesight. It was still colder as they got farther from the shore, and occasionally a blast of wind would nearly take them from their feet.
“There is one thing we forgot to bring along, and that’s a compass,” said Harry. “It’s a pity, too! If we had it the way need not bother us in the least.”
“I thought of it yesterday, after we had left Rudd’s Landing. But I hated to go back after one.”
Once or twice a flock of wild birds would circle over their heads in the snow, and they would take a shot at them. In this manner they brought down ten of the creatures, which, though small, would make dainty eating. Jack and Harry placed them in their bags, and continued to keep their eyes open for more.
About ten o’clock the wind began to blow stronger than ever. It was little short of a hurricane, and took the boys fairly off their feet.
“By golly! dis ain’t no picnic, am it?” cried Pickles, as he went sailing up the lake, unable to stop himself.