Setting off at once, they wearily struggled up the hill; and it had been dark some time when they made camp in a hollow at the foot of a great rock. The rock kept off the wind, and the spruces which grew close about it further sheltered them, but Blake told his companions to throw up a snow bank while he cut wood.
"I'm afraid we're going to have an unusually bad night, and we may as well take precautions," he said.
His forecast proved correct, for soon after they had finished supper a cloud of snow swept past the hollow, and the spruces roared among the rocks above. Then there was a crash and the top of a shattered tree plunged down between the men and fell on the edge of the fire, scattering a shower of sparks.
"Another foot would have made a difference to two of us," Harding said coolly. "However, it's fallen where it was wanted; help me heave the thing on."
It crackled fiercely as the flame licked about it. Sitting between the snowbank and the fire, the men kept fairly warm, but a white haze drove past their shelter and, eddying in now and then, covered them with snow. In an hour the drifts were level with the top of the bank, but this was a protection, and they were thankful that they had found such a camping place, for death would have been the consequence of being caught in the open. The blizzard gathered strength, but though they heard the crash of broken trees through the roar of the wind no more logs fell, and after a while they went to sleep, secure in the shelter of the rock.
When day broke it was long past the usual hour, and the cloud of driving flakes obscured even the spruces a few yards away. The hollow at the foot of the crag was shadowy, and the snow had piled up several feet above the bank, and lapped over at one end. Still, with wood enough, they could keep warm; and had their supplies been larger they would have been content to rest. As things were, however, they were confronted with perhaps the gravest peril that threatens the traveler in the North—the possibility of being detained by bad weather until their food ran out. None of them spoke of this, but by tacit agreement they made a very sparing breakfast, and ate nothing at noon. When night came, and the storm still raged, their hearts were very heavy.
It lasted three days, and on the fourth morning it seemed scarcely possible to face the somewhat lighter wind and break a trail through the fresh snow. However, they dare risk no further delay. Strapping on their packs, they struggled up the range. At nightfall they were high among the rocks, and it was piercingly cold, but they got a few hours' sleep in a clump of junipers, and struck the valley late the next day. Finding shelter, they made camp, and after dividing a small bannock between them they sat talking gloomily. Their fire had been lighted to lee of a cluster of willows, and it burned sulkily because the wood was green. Pungent smoke curled about them, and they shivered in the draughts.
"How far do you make it to the logging camp?" Benson asked. "I'm taking it for granted that the lumber gang's still there."
"A hundred and sixty miles," said Blake. "And we have food enough for two days; say forty miles."
"About that; it depends on the snow."