The girls could not see anyone ahead—only a slanting, blinding wall of driven snow. Even the road was blotted from view though they knew where it was situated.
“Come on!” gasped Connie. “We’ll catch up if we hurry.”
Haste however, was impossible. The wind snatched their breath and tore at their clothing. Once Connie plunged through a large drift up to her shoulders. Snow went down her neck, making her colder and more uncomfortable than ever.
“Where is the road?” she demanded. “Oughtn’t we to have come to it before this?”
“I think I see it over there,” said Veve, pointing to the left.
“But our road was to the right. Or am I mixed up? Oh, dear!”
“It’s a road,” insisted Veve.
The girls struggled on, and soon reached the narrow thoroughfare, lined on either side by an arching wall of frozen bushes.
“I can’t see the Brownies,” said Connie anxiously.
“That’s because the snow is coming down so fast, Connie. They can’t be very far ahead. Let’s run and maybe we’ll catch up.”