“Yes, and we heard them.”
“No, no,” sighed the other; “those were patches of snow falling that we heard.”
There was silence then, save that twice over a soft whisper was heard, and then a low, deep sigh.
“I say.”
“Yes?”
“I feel sure that air must come to us. I can breathe quite easily still.”
“Yes.”
“Then we must try and bear it for a time. I’m going to believe that we may be dug out. Shall we try to sleep, and forget our horrible position?”
“Impossible, my lad. For me, that is. You try.”
“No; you are right. I couldn’t sleep. But, yes, I can breathe better still. There must be air coming in from up above. Well, why don’t you speak? Say something, man.”