“Wish we could find one of them,” grumbled Hiram, good naturedly.
“No chance of supper if we don’t,” observed Elmer.
“See here, fellows, we’ll push the machine along, anyway, and see what we come to,” remarked Dave. “Any shelter is better than this all out of doors position. Even a stretch of timber or the side of a hill would seem homelike just now.”
“It’s better to keep moving, anyhow,” declared Hiram, stamping his feet vigorously. “This will be a big thing to tell about if we ever get home again, fellows.”
“Steady,” ordered Dave, and he slowed up the biplane, the wheels of which ran along pretty lightly, deep as the snow was. “The ground is changing. Stop the machine. I’ll prospect a bit ahead.”
In addition to the enveloping gloom of the storm, it had begun to get dusk. Dave proceeded alone. He discovered that the ground was rough and rising. Then he ran against a tree, and clearing his sight of the obstructing snowflakes he made out that they had come upon a little stretch of timber.
“Come on, but cautiously,” he called back to his comrades.
The Comet was pushed along and halted between two heavily needled trees, affording it considerable shelter. Hiram gave a shout of delight as he discovered a spot where the ground was almost bare. A double row of immense fir trees formed a protecting canopy for several yards.
“Come in out of the wet, Dave!” shouted Elmer, in a jolly tone, joining Hiram, and all hands shook the snow from their garments.
“Shelter, plenty of fuel and a chance for a warm meal,” observed Hiram with satisfaction. “Here’s some good bits of wood,” and he began gathering up pieces of dead branches with which the spot was littered.