It was very dark, but they had flashlights with them and by their aid they quickly located the shovels in one corner of the dugout and the two boys fell to work while the Indian busied himself getting the strip of canvas straightened out.
It took the better part of an hour to get their home cleaned out and the roof on again, but it was finally accomplished and they were once more, as Jack put it, stowed away again. None of them were inclined to sleep so they fell to discussing the situation.
"Will it pay to start out while it's storming?" Bob asked.
"Non. Eet too hard on dog," the Indian told them.
"To say nothing of the effect on us," Jack chuckled.
"But we can't stay here forever," Bob objected.
"Wind, heem changing. Snow stop leetle while."
"Hope you're right," Jack said.
"Which he usually is," Bob put in.
And this time was no exception to the rule for, shortly before seven o'clock, the Indian, after sticking his head out, declared that it was only snowing a "leetle" and that the wind was dying down.