This was indeed true. At the beginning of the squall, which was working up to a blizzard, the wind had swept up the canyon-like defile between the hills of earth and snow. But now the direction of the gale had shifted and was sweeping across the top of the depression. Thus those at the bottom were, in a measure, protected from the blast.
"By hickory!" exclaimed Mr. Macksey, "that's right. The wind has changed. Folks, you'll be all right for a while down here, until I can get help."
"Must you go?" asked Ruth, for now they could talk with more ease. Indeed, so fiercely was the snow sweeping across the top of the gulch that little of it fell into the depression.
"Oh, sure, I've got to get help," the hunter said. "You folks can't stay here all night, even if the wind continues to blow across the top, which makes it much better."
"Indeed and I will not stay here all night!" protested Mr. Bunn. "I most strenuously object to it."
"And so do I!" growled Mr. Sneed. "There is no need of it. I might have known something unpleasant would happen. I had a feeling in my bones that it would."
"Well, you'll have a freezing feeling in your bones if I don't get help," observed Mr. Macksey, grimly.
"And I am hungry, too," went on Mr. Sneed. "Why was not food brought with us in anticipation of this emergency?"
"Haf a pretzel!" offered Mr. Switzer, holding one out.
"Away with the vile thing!" snapped Mr. Sneed.