“Guess we go far ’nough to-night,” said the old Maliseet.
They cleared themselves a space in the heart of a clump of cedars and rigged the tarpaulin for a roof. As the snow was still falling thickly they permitted themselves a good fire. They took to their blankets and fell asleep before the bowls of their after-dinner pipes were cold.
When the fugitives awoke just before the first pale shimmer of dawn the snow had ceased to fall—but it lay all around them almost hip-deep and clung to the bowed tops and branches of the forest in great masses. They fried bacon and boiled the kettle at a mere pinch of fire. They constructed a new and stronger drag for their baggage, changed their boots for moccasins, donned their snowshoes and pulled out. The east showed silver, then red, then gold through the snow-burdened towers of the forest. Presently the sun lifted above the world’s edge, and with it arose a vigorous wind. Before that wind the light snow went up in clouds, even in the sheltered woods; and it fell from the shaken trees in showers and masses.
“Good,” said Mick Otter. “Snow hide our track yesterday, wind hide him to-day.”
“We seem to be playing in luck,” replied Tom; and then, “Are you heading for anywhere in particular?” he asked.
“Git to one dam good camp by sundown, maybe,” answered Mick. “Have buckwheat flapjacks an’ molas’ for supper, maybe.”
“A camp!” exclaimed Tom. “Do you mean a lumber-camp? That would be a crazy thing to do!”
“Nope, don’t mean lumber-camp. Camp I make long time back. Live in him three-four week las’ winter.”
An hour later, while crossing a corner of open barren, they were almost smothered by the drifting snow. And the cold was piercing. Also, the lightness of the snow made the “going” exceedingly difficult—but this condition improved as the wind drove it into white headlands and packed it tight.
Before noon, the backs of Tom’s legs were attacked by snowshoer’s cramp. It was exactly noon when he relinquished the painful struggle and sat down with a yelp of pain. Mick Otter saw what the trouble was at a glance. He made a fire and dragged Tom close to it. Then he produced a pot of bear’s grease from the luggage, melted a quantity of it and rubbed it vigorously into the cramped muscles of Tom’s legs. Tom held his nose.