"We might as well be a thousand miles from nowhere," called Dick.
"That's right," answered his companion. "I wonder if we're going straight?"
"Isn't much choice. We'll be on level ground in a little while, anyhow. Then the going will be better."
They emerged from the thickly wooded side of the big hill, and came upon a plain, which did not look familiar. It was open country, however, and this was better than being in the woods, though the cold wind had more of a sweep over it.
"Now, which way?" asked Paul. "I've lost all sense of direction."
"And I'm not much better. Suppose we let the horses go as they please? Maybe they'll have sense enough to head toward their stables."
"Good idea, we'll do it."
They let the reins hang loose on the necks of the animals. The steeds hesitated for a moment, sniffed the air, and then started off to the left.
"I hope that's right, but it doesn't seem so," said Dick ruefully. "However, anything's better than standing still in this storm."
There was no let-up to the blizzard, which fairly enveloped the lads in its icy grasp.