Across the Delaware the road took them through dense forests, and over trackless vacancies of snow-clad spaces into which the highway disappeared. There were a few scattering villages, and near these they encountered travelers, but on the highroad they met no one. In spite of themselves this fact wore upon them. The cold was not severe, but there was a stillness that held a penetrating chillness of its own. The country was undulating, swelling into an elevation called the Atlantic Highlands near the coast, and into the range of mountains in the north known as the Kittatinny Hills. All were well covered with forests of pine.
By noon of the third day they emerged from the woods, and found a long stretch of white-clad country before them. A few farms could be seen in the far distance, but otherwise there was no sign of life on the wide expanse. It seemed to Peggy and Sally that the highway lay over vast snow fields, and the glare of the sunlight on the snow began to blur and blind them.
“I should welcome the sight of bird or beast,” observed Nurse Johnson. “The stillness hath been oppressive to-day. ’Tis the hard part of winter travel. In summer there is always the hum of insect, or the song of bird to while away the monotony of a journey, but in the winter there is naught to break the quiet. ’Tis as though all Nature slept under the blanket of snow. Still, the riding hath not been hard. A sleigh is so much easier than a wagon. You girls are tired, though, I can see. What are you looking at, Sally?”
“There seems to be something moving over there,” answered Sally indicating some small elevations about three miles to the north of the road. “Thee will get thy wish, Friend Nurse, for something is surely moving about. We have seen naught for so long that any living thing is curious. What are those specks, Friend Fairfax? They are too large for ducks.”
The youth turned and gazed steadily at the sand-hills to which she pointed. They were covered with snow which made them appear like ice hummocks in the sunshine, and which rendered the small black objects moving among them very distinct.
“They look to me like men,” remarked Peggy who sat on the front seat beside Fairfax.
“They are men,” he responded. “Men and horses.”
“I wonder what they are doing there,” cried Sally.
The youth did not reply, and Peggy caught the look that passed between him and his mother. She bent toward him quickly.