“We are in for a corker!” cried the guide.  “The sooner we git back to our supplies the better it will be for us!”

CHAPTER XXV.

Snowed in.

With the coming of night the downfall of snow increased until it was impossible to see a dozen feet in any direction.  The wind also increased in fury until it blew a regular gale.  At first this was in their favor, being directly on their backs and sending them over the ice at a furious pace, but soon it shifted, first to the left and then to in front of them, and now further progress appeared out of the question.

“I’m afraid we can’t make it!” gasped Dick, turning to catch his breath.  “I’m almost winded now.”

“I’ve got to stop,” came from Sam.  “I’m ready to drop.”

“I can’t see a thing,” said Tom.  “And I’m in mortal terror of skating into some big air-hole.”

“You are right, lads, we’ll have to give up the idea of reaching camp to-night,” came from John Barrow seriously.  “But where to take you to out of this awful storm I scarcely know.”

“Any kind of shelter will do,” said Sam.  “We can rig up a hut under some big cedar tree.”

“In that case, let us stick as closely to the river as possible.”

“Why?”

“We can get fish then, if we need ’em.”

No more was said, and the guide at once led the way to a thick clump of cedars growing but a rod away from the edge of the river.  The cedars formed something of a circle, about fifteen feet in diameter, and by clearing out some brushwood in the center they made quite a cozy resting place.  On the outside the cedars were laced together, and the snow was banked up on all sides, leaving but one opening, two feet wide and several feet high, for the purpose of supplying them with fresh air.

By the time the shelter was ready for use all the boys were so fagged out they could scarcely stand.  Dick and the guide had brought blankets with them, and one of these was placed over the opening temporarily, to keep out a large part of the wind.  Then a candle was lit and John Barrow burnt up a little brushwood, “jest to take the chill outer the place,” as he explained.  They did not dare to let the flames grow too high for fear of setting fire to the cedars themselves.

As the boys lay on the brushwood resting, they heard the wind outside increasing in violence, and saw the cedars bend to and fro, and listened to them creak dismally.

“Mr. Barrow, how long do you reckon this storm will last?” questioned Tom.

“There is no tellin’, lad.  Perhaps through the night, an’ perhaps for a couple o’ days.”

“If it lasts two days, we’ll be snowed in for keeps!” came from Sam.

The guide shrugged his shoulders.  “True, Sam, but we’ve got to take what comes.”

“Let us take account of our provisions,” said Dick.  “If there is any prospect of our being snowed in we’ll have to eat sparingly, or run the risk of being starved to death.”