Slowly that afternoon dragged on, and then came night, which Felix knew was apt to be the longest and most disagreeable of all his life, thus far.
Little sleep came to the lost lad.
In fact, he hardly dared lose himself, for fear lest he actually freeze to death; for although the temperature did not actually fall very low at any time, to his excited imagination this humble little storm was in the nature of such a blizzard as those which Tom had told him visited the Far Northwest every Winter, carrying death to many cattle that were caught without shelter.
Every hour at least, Felix would crawl out of his shelter, to ascertain what the signs of promise might be with regard to the weather; and on such occasions he thought it the part of wisdom to exercise his limbs energetically; so as to keep his blood in circulation; and hence, upon creeping into his hole again, very like a fox, as he would grimly remark to himself, he was hardly in a condition to settle down.
He could not tell what time it was for several reasons; in the first place he had no watch, for the ruffians had carried off his little dollar nickel contraption in conjunction with all his other effects; and even had this not been the case, without a match, how could he have seen the face in order to note the position of the hands?
A woodsman would have known of several ways by means of which to tell about the time of night; but Felix was hardly up to such tricks, especially on a stormy night like this, when neither moon nor stars were visible.
But one thing cheered him after a while; and this was the fact that the snow had ceased to fall when about three inches lay on the ground. Then, after all, things might not be quite so bad as he had begun to picture them, and he would not be snowed-in, destitute of food, and all means for securing warmth; why, there might even be a chance for finding the camp on the following day, if only he could keep his wits about him, and figure correctly as to his present position, so as to locate the direction where the cabin lay.
When Felix had crawled out of his poor shelter for the seventh time, as he figured it, he began to look hopefully toward the quarter where according to his calculations the east must surely lie. Nor was he deceived, for he discovered to his great joy a very faint but positive sign that the sky was brightening, and this told that dawn must be near.
As soon as it was fairly light, he left his shelter, which after his boyish fashion he had named Camp Shiver, and struck out in what he believed to be the proper direction.
It was not very encouraging, however, starting on a long tramp hungry and cold; but Felix still had plenty of grit, and shutting his teeth hard, resolved to let nothing dismay him.