“It will to-morrow, Miss Emma, I dare say; but the snow must come down first.”
Martin and Alfred had only time to clear a path to the store-house. Mr Campbell and Henry returned with more shovels, and as soon as breakfast was over, they commenced work. As for Mary and Emma going to milk the cows, that was impossible. Martin undertook that task until they had cleared a pathway to the hunter’s lodge, in which the animals were shut up every night.
By the advice of Martin, the snow next the palisades was piled up against the palings like a wall, as high as they could reach or throw it, by which means they got rid of the snow about the house, and at the same time formed a barrier against the freezing winds which they had to expect. All worked hard; Percival and John were of great use, and even Mrs Campbell and the girls assisted collecting the remainder of the snow, and clearing it off the window-sills and other parts. By noon the snow left off falling, the sky cleared up, and the sun shone bright, although it gave out but little warmth.
After dinner they renewed their labours, and commenced clearing away a path to the lodge, where the cows were locked in, and before nightfall they had accomplished their task as far as the bridge over the stream, which was about half-way.
It had been a day of great fatigue, and they were glad to retire to rest. Mrs Campbell and the girls had put an additional supply of blankets and skins upon the beds, for the cold was now intense, and the thermometer stood far below the freezing point.
The following morning they resumed their task; the sky was still unclouded, and the sun shone out clear and bright. By dinnertime the path to the cow-house had been completed; and the men then employed themselves in carrying as much firewood as they could, before it was dark, within the palisades.
“Well,” observed Alfred, “now things may go on as usual within doors; and what have we to do out, Martin?”
“You must first get on your snow-shoes, and learn to walk in them,” observed Martin; “or, otherwise, you’ll be a prisoner as well as the ladies. You see, John, you’re not at Malachi’s lodge.”
“Go to-morrow,” replied John.
“No; not to-morrow, for I must go with you,” said Martin; “I cannot trust you for finding your way; and I cannot go to-morrow nor the next day either. We must kill our beef to-morrow; there’s no fear but it will keep all the winter now, and we shall save our hay.”